39 | Cute? Really?
I'm standing in front of Franco who's sitting on a chair, carefully smoothing the face mask over his skin.
The sweet scent fills the air, and for a moment, I forget about everything else. The noise in my head quiets. It's just me and him, here in this space, sharing something simple.
We're both wearing the same face mask, something I thought we both deserved after the past month, since he's been my personal guard for exactly a month now.
As I finish applying the mask, I can't help but laugh. Franco looks... funny. His usual sharp, stoic demeanor is softened by the creamy mask, and his brows are furrowed, like he's genuinely trying to figure out what he's supposed to do now.
It's the little things that make me laugh.
"You look funny," I tell him, biting my lip to hold in more laughter.
He glances at me, his eyes still sharp despite the mask. A small grin tugs at the corners of his lips. "But you look cute."
I blink, caught off guard by his response. Cute? Really?
I let out a dramatic sigh and place a hand over my chest. "Cute? I thought I was the hottest bitch alive."
Franco's grin widens, and I see the mischievous glint in his eyes. "That too," he says, his voice full of humor.
We sit there, laughing and teasing each other, and being with him just feels right.
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A few hours later,Franco and I make our way down the stairs, the faint smell of the face mask still lingering in the air.
I'm feeling lighter than I have in a while. But as soon as I step into the living room, that feeling shatters.
Luciano's sitting on the couch, his dark hair slicked back as usual, wearing one of his dark suits. His eyes are glued to the TV, watching the news.
I completely forgot he was coming back today.
I glance at Franco, and he catches my eye. There's an understanding between us, and without a word, he starts heading in the other direction, toward his room.
"I'll be right there," I murmur to him, my voice steady.
I wait for Franco to disappear down the hallway before turning my attention to Luciano. My heart beats just a little faster, but I tell myself it's nothing.
"You're home so soon? You said that the business trip would take awhile?" I ask, trying to keep my voice casual as I walk closer. I can feel his presence in the room, like it's suffocating me.
Luciano doesn't even look at me, his focus still fixed on the TV. "Yes," he replies, his voice clipped. "I wanted to come home a bit earlier."
I try to ignore the coldness in his tone, but it's hard. Something's off.
I've been around him long enough to know when he's hiding something. But I don't care enough to ask.
I let it go, shrugging it off like I always do.
I turn to leave, planning to head to Franco's room, when Luciano's voice cuts through the air. "We're going to Italy to meet my mamma and my noona over the weekend."
I freeze, surprised by his sudden announcement. It's the last thing I expected.
"Okay," I reply, trying to mask the surprise in my voice. "I'll get my things ready."
It doesn't feel right, though. I don't know what it is, his tone? the way he's acting? But I shake the feeling away.
I don't need to care about what's going on with him.