Chapter Twenty Five

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"Chiedi a lei già."

"Zitto, vai via."

"Se non si chiederà lei, lo faro."

"Ti spacco il culo-"

Matteo's laughter interrupts his sentence, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Certo, vorrete verificare che?" He turns to face me, a megawatt grin on his face the whole time.

"Emma-"

"Stiamo andando." Nathan's hand finds mine on the couch, pulling me to my feet, and guiding me down the hall, Matteo a laughing mess behind us.

I settle into the desk chair while he closes the door, leaning his forehead against it with a sigh.

Watching his shoulders tense at the sound of Matteo's laughter, I walk up from behind, hugging him around the waist.

He seems to relax back into me, his back losing all tension as his hands squeeze mine, turning in my arms to hug me back.

"Is everything okay?"

Matteo's pestering had been going on for at least ten minutes before Nathan finally replied, his expression pure annoyance as he regarded his brother. It was hard to focus on the movie we were watching while they argued, and I ended up just wishing I spoke Italian for most of it.

"Y-yeah. Matteo's j-j-ju-just be-being an-annoying."

I attempt to stifle my laugh against his shirt, although my shaking shoulders give me away, and I'm forced to meet Nathan's frown.

"N-not hel-helping."

"I know, I'm sorry." I kiss his chest- or at least the part of it I can reach on my tippy toes- through the fabric of his t-shirt, squeezing his waist gently.

He laughs lightly, "it's o-ok-okay."

I step back, settling myself back down on the chair.

"Are we just going to hideout in here until we think he's gone?"

He winces, his cheeks tinting pink. "I d-d-didn't th-think this f-far a-ah-ahead."

I can't stop my laugh this time, although he doesn't seem to mind, just drops on his bed, knees bent up to fit his height more comfortably as he grins at me.

"I don't know how we ever both fit on that bed together, it looks so small in comparison to you."

His smile falters, just barely, but enough for me to notice it, to see the expression that flits across his face, only lasting a mere blink.

"What is it?" I frown, standing up to drag the chair closer, like I did the night he was sick, until I can tuck my feet up on his bed.

"N-no-nothing, no-noth-nothing at al-all." His smile is too forced, his eyes not quite meeting mine when he speaks.

"Nathan, what did I say? Don't shut me out." He rolls over on his side to face me, his fingers drumming against the mattress.

Eyes downcast, he mumbles his rely, a blush rising as he does.

"I d-don't l-li-like h-how t-ta-tall I a-am."

"Why don't you like it?"

"B-because it m-ma-makes me look ou-out of pl-place. Pe-people look at m-me like I'm a-a mon-monster when I'm w-with you."

He sits up now, running his hand over his jeans, his eyes downcast in shame at his confession, growing glassy with tears.

"I love how tall you are Nathan." I reach out for his hand and he pulls it back, seeming hesitant. I feel like I was slapped across the face it hurts so bad- to have so much progress made and so much lost so soon.

Love, EmmaWhere stories live. Discover now