Ebony & Ivory. Darkness and light. Two ends of the spectrum and somehow Harry Styles finds himself right in the midst of them both. How will he decide?
Ebony Saville once considered as being strong willed and independent, though somewhere along t...
"I don't wanna be your friend, I wanna kiss your neck..."
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Coming home from any trip - however short it may be, is a pleasant feeling. I absolutely cannot wait to see Celia after the two days I've been without her. I suppose she's grown on me more than I had initially thought. Being so far away from your family can really take its toll on you as a person, but Celia has dulled those feelings, and has become somewhat of an unofficial sister to me.
Unlocking the door to our house, I spot a pair of men's mustard coloured boots by our welcome mat. Hmm. We must have a male visitor.
"Hello?" I call out, stumbling into the entranceway with my bags.
No answer.
Taking off my coat, I walk through to the kitchen area and am completely caught off guard when I see a man with his back to me, making what appears to be a sandwich. He doesn't appear to have heard me, or maybe he just doesn't care.
"Uh, who are you?" I ask quite bravely, slowly checking my bag for my phone, just in case.
He turns around annoyingly slow, unperturbed by my presence.
"I'm Felix," he introduces. "You must be Ivory," he exclaims with polite disinterest, continuing to cut his sandwich into two large triangles. He's totally unfazed by my arrival, almost as if I were a piece of furniture in the room.
Felix? Oh - Celia's Felix. Her on again, off again 'thing'.
He certainly looks exactly as she's described him. He's a little older than I'd originally pictured, though I don't know why I expected anyone younger, as he was in his thirties when he started seeing teenage Celia. Good looking, and quite put-together, I can see the pull that she would feel towards him.
"I go by Ivy," I correct, putting my bags down. "Where's Celia?"
"How did you find Milan? I find it rather industrial for Italy, but it is undeniably beautiful wouldn't you agree?"
"Uh," is all I can seem to muster. Who is this strange man who's left unattended in our home, intentionally ignoring my direct question of Celia's whereabouts? I've been told he has this annoying quality of dominating conversations, and controlling everything around him, and he's certainly living up to his name. "Where's Celia?"
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