"This one?"

I stared from my upside-down position on the mattress at the long, black evening dress Mum wore, her blonde hair falling in elegant curls around her face, the subtle sparkle of the fabric shimmering under the yellow lights of her dresser. I took another bite of my peanut protein bar, chewing slowly. I had decided to skip dinner altogether after Nero & Oro, but had to somehow meet my calorie requirements, so I didn't waste muscle. 

"Too much," I stated. "I thought it was a low-key dinner."

"Ugh." She groaned, removing her dangly diamond earrings for the fourth time that evening. "I don't understand why I'm so nervous."

"Wear the sapphire ones I got you." I got up from where I'd been lying on my back on her bed for the past hour, trying to select a perfect outfit for her. "Where are they?"

"I should just call Eleonora—" she said, for the fifth time that night.

"Try the sapphires." I clicked my tongue and repeated, "Where are they?"

She pointed one finger toward the small bedside cupboard, then leaned in to check her reflection, saying something to the mirror I couldn't read. I sat up straight, finished the rest of my peanut bar and discarded it.

I reached for the bottommost drawer, pulling out the large jewellery box and unbuckling it. As I did, my eye fell on a small velvet box tucked into the very corner of the drawer. I did not remember her buying such a thing, and curiosity got the better of me. I opened it.

Inside was a large, glittering princess-cut diamond set on an ornate platinum band.

"Mum, what is this?" I asked. "Whose is this?"

She walked over to me. I glanced up at her, holding the open box in my palm. She looked at it once, then at me, then at it again, before answering slowly. "Mine."

"That looks like an engagement ring," I observed.

"Yes," she said, plucking it out of my hand gently and holding it close to her chest. "Jonathan asked me to marry him a couple of months ago."

I blinked. "You are engaged."

She did not answer for a while. I looked at her, then at the engagement ring, then back at her.

"Yes," she said finally.

"Oh." My stomach hollowed out at the words. I placed one hand on the drawer knob, slowly pushing it back into its slot. The lamp on the table was slightly crooked. I grabbed it with two fingers, turning it so it was at the most optimal angle.

My mum said something, her hand resting against my face. I turned to look at her and saw her mouthing, 'Can you sit down, love?'

I did.

She said something, but I couldn't get myself to read her lips. My brain was suddenly too hazy.

"Mum," I said. "I cannot understand you."

She reached for her phone, her fingers flying across the screen as she typed and placed it in my hand.

You know how the media is. The papers. Every time Jonathan so much as opens a car door for me, it's four pages by morning. I wanted to keep one thing that was only ours. Just for a little while. Before it belonged to everyone.

I had not congratulated her yet. And it had been sixty-one days since she had got engaged.

Congratulations.

I handed the phone back to her. She let out a ragged breath, her eyes glistening. Perhaps from the joy of her engagement. She typed again.

You are not everyone else. But you would have told someone. Not on purpose. You'd have been asked a direct question and you'd have answered it, the way you always do. And I did not want to put that on you. It wasn't fair to make you carry a thing you can't hold.

I nodded, putting the phone carefully on the bedside table. I watched it buzz, and it moved a few millimetres. So I fixed it again. My mum placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. I turned to look at her.

"Love—"

"I understand," I said honestly. "You are right. I am not trust-word-thee."

She cupped a hand on my face, turning me so I was looking at her. Her eyebrows were furrowed, her grey eyes shadowed. "Love, of course I trust you," she mouthed slowly. "This is not about trust."

"That is... not logical," I said, placing one hand against hers and lowering it from my face. If she did trust me, she would have told me such a huge news. Similar to Luca, if he had trusted me, if I had been in the same position in his life as Chiara, he would have told me about his father. I had asked him, clearly. He had kept me outside that circle of his life. 

I was outside mum's, and she was managing things so I could stay outside. Because I could not handle being on the inside.

My mum said something else, but I rose to my feet.

"I must go," I informed her before walking out of the room.

I stood listlessly in the garage for thirteen minutes before taking my car and driving through the longer route. By the time I stood in front of the door to Luca's penthouse, I had been out for seventy-three minutes.

I reached for the doorbell, placing a finger on it and a palm flat against the door to make sure it was functioning. I could feel the soft vibrations. The little digital panel beside the door lit up for a few seconds, and I took a step back so I was visible on the screen.

A few minutes later, the door opened all the way, and Luca stood in front of me in a pair of black sweats.

"Hello," I said, my stomach somersaulting, perhaps from the erratic food schedule.

He furrowed his eyebrows, rubbing his face before he nodded and took a step back to let me in. I followed him into the dark living room, illuminated by the sole warm light in the corridor behind him—the one that led to his bedroom.

He crossed his arms in front of his chest, leaning against the wall as he addressed me. He said something, but I couldn't see his lips well enough in the dark. So I took off my coat and hung it meticulously on the wall hook before speaking, "Mum's engaged."

I walked towards the lit corridor and entered his bedroom without waiting for an invitation. His bed was made, the large television on the opposite wall open on some news article. He entered the bedroom behind me, and I finally looked at him as he flicked on the lights.

"Mum got engaged to Jonathan two months prior," I said.

"Oh." He shook his head once. "Congrat—"

"She did not tell me till today," I finished, looking at my own socked feet. "She was right not to tell me," I admitted. "She does not want the media to know yet, and I kept her secret for seventy-four minutes—" I verified with my wristwatch, "—before divulging it."

"I... I won't tell anyone," he said, taking a step closer to me. "Don't worry about that."

"Okay. Am I interrupting?" I asked, looking at his television screen.

He shook his head once, gazing at me in a way that made my breath catch. "Was just about to go to bed."

"I am sorry for interrupting your sleeping schedule." I got to my feet. "I should also apologise for the restaurant today—"

"Elliot," he said. "I can hear you. You can speak a little lower."

I gulped and nodded. "Thank you." I made sure I was ready before I spoke again. "As I was—"

"It's okay," he said, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. "The guys know you didn't mean anything wrong by that."

I gazed at his lips, not because I was trying to read them, but because of the way they moved, and the way it reminded me of the last time we had kissed. I looked up at his eyes again and took a step closer. He was close with Chiara; he told her things, he trusted her. He had also slept with her in the past. Sex should naturally mean you get closer to that person.

I rose on my tiptoes and kissed him then, placing my hands on his shoulders and pulling him closer. His mouth froze for a second before a low groan escaped and he responded, kissing me back. His tongue traced my bottom lip in a way that made my stomach weightless, my head dizzy from his taste. His hands gripped my waist hard, pulling me flush against him as he tilted my head, his lips trailing across my jaw.

I stepped back, my vision hazy, my heart thundering in my throat. "Luca—" I said in a trembling voice, "I would like to have sex with you."

He gulped, his eyes dark, his breath hitching.

I took a couple of steps back, keeping my eyes on him as I reached for my shirt and pulled it off me, waiting for him to take the lead, waiting for him to tell me, guide me on what to do.

"Elliot—" he said simply, taking a step closer to me. "What... suddenly—?"

I shook my head. "I want to be close to you," I informed him, placing a palm flat against his chest. I was surprised to find his own pulse erratic under my hand. "The way... the way—"

I did not finish, my words ending in a ragged whisper. It was easier this way. He wouldn't be annoyed if I kissed him. That was something I understood.

"Elliot—"

I placed one hand on his chest, pushing closer into him so his face was inches from mine. This would work. It had to work. I could be closer to him, and maybe he would trust me. Even if my own mum didn't, he would. He would tell me things. Things that only we could share. And we could be sitting in between the whole team, and share secrets without anyone knowing, just by glances. The way I had seen his friends do as they sniggered behind my back. And I wouldn't have to sip my orange juice loudly just to drown those laughs out.

"Luca... please—" I tilted my face up to him, parting my lips breathlessly. I needed to be more crass if I wanted this to work. "Fuck me. I want you inside me."

His eyes darkened, his breath coming out in sharp, ragged whispers before his mouth crashed into mine, our tongues entangling hotly as I tried to wrest from his—anything, or everything he would give me.

GUYS IF THERE ARE SOME STUPID GRAMMAR AND SPELLING MISTAKES FORGIVE ME! I am literally falling asleep at my laptop ;-; empowered by sleep deprivation and gushing over my own characters (<----- me)
But what do you guys think will happen now?   0.0
As always, hope you all are enjoying the story so far! And I might have a teeny tiny announcement soon xx 
Thank you for all the support; truly grateful for it <3
OH and have a great weekend!