CHAPTER 37
Marcello had been coming home late and heading straight to the kitchen.It had been four nights now. Four times he’d come home hoping to see her come down the stairs, maybe for some milk, or cookies, or just because she couldn’t sleep like she used to but she'd been avoiding him like a plague.
He'd hear her sometimes. A faint creak of the floor above. Her door clicking open. A step, maybe two. Then nothing.
Like she came to the edge of the stairs and changed her mind.everytime
He didn’t blame her.
That night had played in his head more times than he could count. The look on her face when she left confused, embarrassed, something in her eyes shattered like she didn’t understand what she did wrong, and he didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t her.
It was him.All him.
Marcello wasn't the type to wait around and sit with guilt or beg for a glance. Matter of fact he never felt guilty.
And yet—
He hadn’t slept in his own bed since the night she looked at him like that with hurt in her eyes.
.
He’d tried to stay away. Told himself this was enough waiting, being patient, not forcing anything.He’d told himself he wouldn’t go up there that if she didn’t come down, he’d leave it alone and respect the space.
But that promise was getting harder to keep and it was wearing thin.
Every night she didn’t come down, it cracked something deeper in him.
Marcello dragged a hand across his face while his palm rested against the side of his jaw for a long beat, he could feel the stubble rough and unshaven like everything else about him lately.
Marcello stood. Slowly, heading towards her door.Hell, he’d beg, if he had to because four days of silence was already driving him insane and if he had to sit through one more night without seeing her face, he’d lose whatever grip he had left.
His hand was clenched and yet he hadn’t realized.
Marcello stood in the hallway, shadowed and still, just outside her door.He raised his hand and knocked once.
Then again softer this time and he heard footsteps, not heavy or hurried just the soft, familiar patter of her feet on hardwood.
His pulse kicked. He lowered his hand.The doorknob didn’t turn right away. For a second, he thought maybe she’d changed her mind.
But then—
Click.
The latch gave quietly. The door cracked open, slow and cautious, until he could finally see her standing there in the soft glow of her bedside lamp, one hand still curled around the edge of the doorframe. Her eyes wide and sleepy.
She didn’t say anything.
Neither did he.
His throat was tight. He hadn’t planned what he’d say if she even opened the door at all. And now that she had, he just stood there.
She looked up at him, her expression soft
Marcello swallowed hard.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he murmured.Mia still didn’t speak, she just looked up at him, her lids heavy and her lips parted
Marcello didn’t wait for permission, he stepped past the half-open door and she didn’t stop him, she only stepped back, just enough to let him in.
He shut the door behind him gently. Not all the way. Just like she always left it.
The room was warm and smelled like something faint and sweet just like her.
Marcello’s eyes swept the space quickly, but he already knew it by heart, She didn’t speak as he came closer.
She didn’t move either. He could see the flush rising on her neck, the way her lashes dipped lower, almost like she was waiting for him to say something else.
But he didn’t. He just reached out one hand brushing against her arm, his touch featherlight.
Mia’s breath caught but she didn’t flinch. The silence hanging thick between them. She hadn’t said anything still and it was starting to feel unbearable.
Marcello shifted his weight, jaw clenched, eyes on her, this tiny girl standing barefoot in an oversized hoodie, her hair a little messy from sleep, her hands curled loosely at her sides like she didn’t know what to do with them was driving him crazy
He breathed out slowly, fingers twitching like he wanted to reach for her face.
Then, finally—
“Baby…”
His voice cracked, low and hoarse.
He paused and swallowed.
“I—”
He shook his head and tried again. He couldn't remember the last time he apologized to anyone but for her he'd do it.
“I’m sorry.”
Her brows pulled in, confused like she hadn’t expected to hear that word from him.
“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said, firmer now, but still gentle. “You didn’t deserve that.”
Mia’s lips parted like she wanted to say something but she didn’t, her eyes fluttered. And then quietly—
“ .. I'm sorry .... I'm sorry if I did something wrong?” her voice trembled and Marcello’s heart twisted.
" No no no no no ... Don't you ever apologize for my mistake.. you didn't do anything wrong.."
And just like that, Marcello shattered. Fuck
Her eyes were glossy and blinking too fast while her lower lip trembled. She was trying not to cry trying so hard but she couldn’t stop the way her breath caught or the way her voice cracked.
He moved without thinking, stepping closer, cupping her face gently with both hands. His thumbs brushed the first tear before it could fall.
“Please, baby…” he whispered, voice raw. “Please don’t cry.”
Her lashes fluttered, but another tear slid down anyway.
“I hate seeing you like this,” he murmured, wiping it away, then the next, his touch unbearably soft. “I hate knowing that I’m the reason for it.”
Mia didn’t answer. Her breathing hitched again, and he watched her fold in on herself, overwhelmed and silent.
He guided her gently towards the bed and sat down, still holding her. For a second, she just stood between his legs, unsure and then, almost without realizing it, she climbed onto his lap and pressed herself to his chest
Marcello wrapped his arms around her instantly. His jaw tightened as he buried his face in her hair, her cheek was pressed against his collarbone, and her voice was so soft he barely caught it.
“…Do you promise not to yell at me again?”
He closed his eyes.
God.
He held her tighter.
“I promise,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I swear, baby. Never again.”
She didn’t say anything right away and just curled in closer, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt like she needed to feel that he was really there.
And Marcello who never apologized, never explained himself, never let anyone see behind the armour, held her like she was the only thing that mattered and closed his eyes.
Mia stayed curled into him, warm and trusting, her fingers gripping his shirt like she never wanted to let go.
And then like it was the most natural thing in the world she shifted, adjusting herself, her knees tucked on either side of his thighs, small hands pressed to his chest.
She wasn’t thinking about it. But he was.
Marcello’s breath caught, she was sitting on his lap, completely unaware of the effect she had on him.
Her scent soft and familiar clung to the hoodie she wore. Her cheek was against his chest and all he could feel was her, her weight, her breath and the gentle rise and fall of her back as she tried to steady herself.
He swallowed hard his jaw tense.God help him, he was holding the one thing he couldn’t have.
The one thing he’d die to protect.
His hands stayed gentle, firm around her waist, but his fingers gripped tighter for a second — needing to anchor himself before he lost it.
“Marcello…” she whispered softly, pulling back just a little to look up at him.
And when their eyes met her lashes were still damp, her face flushed, and her lip slightly trembling. He nearly forgot how to breathe. So beautiful
He pressed his forehead gently to hers, voice low, gutted.
“You sitting on my lap like this… it’s ...making me go crazy, baby.”
Her eyes widened slightly, confused.
“I’m not mad,” he said quickly,. “Just… you have no idea what you do to me.”
Her lips parted, but she said nothing and just leaned back in resting against him again, innocent, sleepy, vulnerable.
And Marcello?
He wrapped his arms around her tighter, held her like a vow and told himself to behave because she wasn’t just some girl, she was his girl and he'd do right by her.
Mia shifted slightly in his lap, trying to find a more comfortable spot. The thick fabric of her hoodie bunched beneath her knees, and the angle made her legs ache a little. She wriggled again, unconsciously, adjusting-
And that's when she felt it, something firm pressed beneath her, nestled between her thighs.
Her breath caught, confused at first. She stilled.
Marcello let out a low, guttural sound barely audible and his hands flew to her hips, holding her in place.
"Stop moving," he said, voice hoarse, tight. Like every word was dragged from somewhere deep.
Mia froze.
Her wide eyes lifted to his, unsure. "Did I...?"
"You didn't do anything wrong," he muttered quickly his thumb stroking her waist like he didn't want her to panic. "Just... baby..."
His head dropped for a second like he was trying to ground himself, jaw clenched hard as he exhaled through his nose.
" You keep moving around like that you just don’t know what that does to me.”
Mia’s cheeks flushed visibly, deeply and she bit her lip, eyes blinking fast.
“I didn’t mean to ..” she whispered.
“I know,” he said quickly, gently, his hand sliding up to cradle her back. “I know you didn’t. That’s what’s driving me insane.”
She went still again, uncertain, her hands resting flat against his chest. His heartbeat thudded beneath her palms fast, strong, uneven.
“Should I… get off?” she asked, voice feather-light and his fingers flexed on her hips.
“No,” he said. “No, stay. Please.”
“But—”
“I’m okay,” he added, trying to steady his voice, trying not to make her feel bad. “Just don’t move for a minute, yeah?”
She nodded slowly, settling back into him carefully now, as still as possible.
And for a while, they just sat like that.
The silence was soft and tension lingered in the air, Marcello leaned back slightly against the headboard, holding her like like she might vanish if he wasn’t careful.
But still, he held her, because nothing...nothing.. in the world felt better than this.After a while, Marcello’s breathing slowed, though his arms never loosened around her. He kept one hand on her back, the other resting protectively on her hip, as if anchoring himself to the feel of her.
Mia was quiet now. Her cheek pressed against his chest, lashes fluttering lower when sleep tried to sneak in but she didn’t fully surrender to it.
Marcello tilted his head slightly, his mouth near the crown of her head.
“You should get some sleep,” he murmured, voice soft but edged with restraint. “It’s late.”
She didn’t move.
He glanced down, brushing a thumb lightly over the curve of her spine. “Come on, baby. Let me tuck you in.”
That made her stir.
She pulled back slightly her eyes lifting to his, . “You’re leaving?”
The question was barely a whisper, but it landed like a weight in his chest.
He hesitated.
“I wasn’t going to,” he admitted, voice rough. “But if I stay like this much longer…”
His words trailed off, and Mia’s brows drew together like she didn’t quite understand.
Marcello’s hand came up to brush a strand of hair from her cheek his thumb lingering while his voice dropped lower, tender and torn.
“I just want you to sleep, baby, without me making it hard.”
A faint pout formed on her lips and he felt himself go weak at the sight.
“Can you… stay till I fall asleep?” she asked.
His throat tightened.
He nodded once, unable to say no to her. “Yeah. Of course.”
He shifted her gently, lifting her with ease like she weighed nothing, and laid her down against the pillows and she let him.
Marcello reached for the blanket and pulled it over her legs, smoothing it up to her chest. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, one hand resting on the mattress beside her, the other lightly cradling her face.
“You want the lights off?”
She nodded.
He leaned over and flicked the switch by the bedside. Darkness wrapped around the room, save for the faint moonlight slipping through the window blinds.
Mia blinked up at him, still not letting go of his hoodie sleeve.
“Promise you won’t leave until I’m asleep?”
Marcello leaned closer, pressing a slow kiss to her forehead.
“I promise.”
And he meant it.
Even if it took all night.