The Ball I

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Bella:

Today was the day of the mafia ball, and the thought of seeing Massimo kept me up the whole night.

I sigh as I take a seat at my dressing table, laying out my makeup and hair products. Only a few hours left until I see him again. He's probably forgotten about me. Right? I shake my head at the thought that something could've happened between us. In the end he's the head of a mafia that I'm supposed to hate and well, I'm just a normal girl.

I start to straighten my wavy brown locks, allowing it to reach down to my waist. I then apply some makeup, before a knock on my door interrupts me.

"Hey." Daniele says as he comes in and stands next to me. I don't bother turning to face him, but Fernando's words replay in my mind.

"Hi."

"You look beautiful."

I turn to face him, a weak smile covering his tired looking face.

"I'm not even ready yet."

"You don't have to be ready. You already look perfect."

"Thank you."

An awkward silence fills the room, as he takes my hand and pulls me up slowly to stand in front of him.

"Look Bella I'm sorry. I don't want what happened last night to ruin what we have together."

A sigh escapes from my lips. Maybe he's right. Maybe I shouldn't be so stuck in the past. I nod my head slightly, causing his smile to widen. He pulls me into a hug, kissing the top of my head.

"I think I'm in love with you Isabella." He breaths out on top of my head. I push him away; did he really say what I think he said?

"Wh-what?"

"I love you." He repeats louder. "It has always been you Bella. It will never be anyone else. I just had to tell you- I couldn't keep it in anymore. I know that you don't feel the same way yet and I will wait for if or when you do." 

He loves me? No one has ever loved me before. But do I love him? I do get butterflies when I see him and yes, I trust him. But it can never compare to the fireworks that Massimo sets off in me, and the way his touch sends shivers down my spine. Or the way that he would look at me like I'm the only girl in the world. 

Those may have only been a figment of my imagination. Because, in the end, he didn't care about breaking my heart. He didn't even consider thinking about how we could possibly be something after he ruined a part of my life, and didn't tell me. Even after the moments we shared, he still didn't tell me.

"Bella? Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah. I was just thinking."

"About what?"

"About what you're going to wear tonight."

"Right." He says as he shakes his head slightly, digging his hands into his pockets.

I feel a pang of guilt for not reciprocating his feelings- but I can't.

Because I don't.

I love-

"I'll leave you to get ready. Be downstairs in a few hours."

I stop him, by giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before he turns and leaves.

***

"Bella, we need to leave it's already started by now!" 

"I'm coming!" I shout through the door as I grab my silver clutch and put on my white heels. I apply a few dabs of lip-gloss, before attempting to run down the stairs.

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