MIA
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I feel like crying, but I need to keep my shit together. I need to stay strong, to stay unfazed, to act like I'm fine with talking about all of this to them, when the love of my fucking life is right here, with my sister, who even has her hand on his over the table in one of the most disgusting sight of my life, that only lose to the times he pressed his lips on hers.
Fuck. He should be pressing them on mine.
My lips are pristine, damn it. Hers are Rosalia's, santo Dio, can't he open his pretty blue eyes and see that in the end, the love of her life and Rosalia Ricci and not him? That the love of his life is me? That I'm right here?
To make it worse, he believes my precious letters were hers.
Dio santo, my handwriting is the prettiest in the world, I learned it from papa himself, whose handwriting was beyond beautiful. Emma's handwriting is horrifying until this day, she was born to be a doctor on that fucking matter. Back when I was sending him the letters, her handwriting was disgusting to look at.
She didn't even touch the roses, ever, where did he get the idea that she would get the petals and dry them? She was the most unskilled out of the seven of us, even Julia would be more believable, for fuck's sake.
And my precious drawings? How could he think she did them, when until now she draws people with five lines and a circle as the head? It's fucking offensive to say the least. I'm offended. More than offended, I'm hurt. I want to cry again, just thinking about it.
I even got the cinnamon perfume for him, because he had a cinnamon scent, damn it. Sure, that's the only thing that matches with Emma, because she has a cinnamon and mint scent, but that's where it ends. Her perfume is of lavender since ever, not even cinnamon. And maybe he told her that he liked the chocolate too, while zia Sasha was the one who told me.
What breaks my heart more than anything is that he doesn't see me like I wanted him to. He probably cut me out of his list of possible pen pals from the very beginning, just because he despised me and didn't think I would be able to bleed my heart on paper selflessly. When that's all I've been doing since I fucking met him, bleeding my heart out for him, selflessly.
I never expected to gain anything back for writing him the letters, as I wanted was to comfort him when he most needed it, but to think that he fell in love with the girl of the letters and then with fucking Emma just because he thinks it's her? That fucking shatters me.
If Misha fell in love with the girl of the letters, he fell in love with me, not with her. I wrote it, it was my heart bleeding for him, not hers. I'm the one who's obsessively in love with him. Still, he doesn't see me, he hates me, and he projected his hatred on me so hard that he thinks I hate him.
Fuck. I would tear my heart out of my chest right now if he needed another one, without a fucking thought, without blinking, I would do it myself, as long as he needed it to live. He's everything I've ever wanted, the love of my life, he's mine, so how can't he realize that? It's not my fault if every time he looks at me, he comes closer to me, or he even breathes near me, my entire soul malfunctions.
When I malfunction, I say nasty shit automatically.
I don't hate him.
How could I ever hate him?
Did Emma deliberately lie to him?
Did she told him she wrote the damn letters?
Did she fucking do that?
Is she really lying like that?
To him, to the rest?
"…? Mia?"
I blinked, snapping out of it, finding the others out of the table and all together, happy and playing with the damn karaoke. Half ass adults. "Uh?"
Nonno Matteo frowned, "Are you alright?"
Stupid ass question.
Of course, I'm not fucking alright, damn it.
Do I look fucking alright?
I mean, sure, I probably look hot, but not okay. I'm not fucking okay. How can they ask me that and want a reasonable answer?
I clenched my jaw, holding my real retort, "Of course," I lied, since it's what they want to hear me saying either way. "Just lost in my mind. ADHD stuff. What were you saying?" I asked, eyes on my bowel with tiramisu, which I hadn't even noticed they had gotten me, starting to eat it.
What am I supposed to do now? How am I supposed to react? How can I live with the love of my life, in the same fucking villa, and swallowed my anger, my pain, how he's breaking my heart by being with my sister. How he makes me want to die when he says he loves her?
Swallowing hard, I put down the spoon I had held without even noticing, feeling my vision blurry. "I'm sorry," I apologized, since only the real adults and elders were on the table. "I'm sorry, I need to breath. Leave me alone for a bit."
"Mia belle," nonna tried.
Pushing my chair back, I stopped her as I stood up. "No, please. Nonna, I'm doing my best in here. You told me to try, I tried. I spoke more tonight than I probably did my entire life with the famiglia. Don't get used to it, I don't know what came over me. I feel sick, suffocated, and I need to breath," I clenched my hands that were starting to shake. "I'm not going away yet. I'll be back. Just… please, let me breath."
Then, I ignored everything and ran away from there and inside the other side of the villa that took to the stairs. There, I ran up the steps quickly, up to the rooftop, four floors above the ground floor we were in. Heeled slippers in, so my pretty feet won't get dirty in the ancient floor. After a minute I arrived at the rooftop where mama had gotten herself a glasshouse full of red roses.
There was a huge infinity pool at the other extremity, with waterproof fancy off white chairs around it, all in with a movable big fancy umbrella for it's personal protection. In center of the rooftop, meters away from both the pool and the glasshouse, the center of the rooftop was made of bulletproof crystal, that gave sight to the stairs from up here, even though we can't see this from down there, as it's a one-way see through crystal, being about 40 centimeters thick, which is good enough for me to walk through it fearlessly.
Walking through it, I went sat in one of the hot pink waterproof chairs between the crystal platform and the glasshouse, taking my shoes off, I hugged my arms and just cried. Taking advantage of how all of my make up is as waterproof as these chairs. But just to let it out a bit. I allowed myself to cry for just about 10 minutes.
As I was done letting my misery take the best out of me, I went inside the glasshouse and looked at myself in the mirror, making sure my waterproof make up hid the fact that I just cried, and aside from my reddened face and eyes, it was all fine, no puffy eyes.
It was when I was looking at myself in the mirror that Leo arrived in the rooftop running, huffing, bending down out of breath, hands on his knees. "Found you. Those stairs will murder me."
"That's what you get from running away from training when I offered it to you, Leo," I mocked and went to him in a second. "Come, seat here," I took him to the hot pink chair at the side of the one I was siting before. "Breathe!"