n o v a (incomplete)

t h i r t y - o n e

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t h i r t y - o n e 

An incoherent sound falls from her plump lips, features scrunching. Her long legs tuck into her ribs, arms outstretched in an awkward angle with her fingertips curling into the material of her satin sheets, soft and cool against her skin.

Nova squirms again when another noise pulls her from her sleep, begrudgingly giving in and sitting up, hands rubbing at her eyes.

It's the sound of a bell, echoing softly through the walls of her room. Her eyes squint further, trekking over to the petite alarm clock on the white dresser besides her. Her mouth curves; it hadn't even hit seven yet.

Her mind is swelled with the desire to fall back to slumber but can't help but wonder who would be at the door of her new home so early in the morning.

Nova's movements are clumsy as she walks with eyes half-closed, limbs not energised enough to function normally. Her hips hit into several corners of furniture, head at one point slamming into the edge of a wall. The female's features now reside in a permanent frown.

Her fingers pry the soft wood of the front door, mocha hues barely opening to be met with a blurred vision of a tall, dark-haired figure.

"Romaeus?" her tone is raspy and low with having just woken up.

The figure before her only chuckles, the sound warm and tinged with amusement. The tall female leans against the frame of her door, rubbing her face once more.

The cold air cascading in from the outside helps, causing goosebumps to rise from her bare legs and tee. It's only then she realises she had opened the door in her silk-night set, a pair of shorts and an a cami top. The bed of red on her cheeks isn't just from the cold anymore.

"Fortunately for you tesoro, it is the better looking Martelli," she squints at the figure more.

"Rocco?" the tone of her voice is of astonishment, unable to help it when her body is still sore about having been abruptly woken.

The male bursts out in laughter at the female's perturbation, slivers of it etching into her physique. His muscled arms cross over his lean frame, before the thick and baggy grey hoodie he wore, a silver chain melting into the dark skin of his neck. It's paired with some darker grey sweats and sturdy trainers, his features completely alert and set with a deep grin, eyes mischievous.

"You know what they say, an early bird always catches the worm. I'm the bird. The breakfast you promised me is the worm. Tick tock tesoro," he satirizes, a hand tapping at a wrist that holds no watch.

The female is caught completely off guard, messy chocolate waves falling to the curve of her chest. In her lucid state, she pouts, brows softly kissing each other.

"But I'm tired," her voice innocent, mouth parted in dislike and the pout falling to her cheeks.

"And I'm starving. Where do we go from here?" she doesn't say anything, lips pressed into a straight line, the murmur of rest lingering in her muscles.

"Come on tesoro. You'll thank me later. We have much to do," inviting himself in and pushing past her frame and straight into the living room.

She follows him quietly, watching this strange man carefully. His shoes are already left in the threshold, curling into one of the sofas, a cushion to his chest.