Chapter 2: Getting to know you better.

Chapter 2: Getting to know you better.

"Uhm...you're... you're sound—" I could barely make sense of anything I was saying. This demigod of a person continued staring at me with the same bored expression and it made me even more uncomfortable.

Someone suddenly yelled behind him, pulling his attention away from me for a while. A boy with a somewhat plump body slowly walked to where we were at the front door with a bowl of cereals in his hands. He looked at the guy first then at me with an arched brow.

"What's going on here?" He asked gently. Compared to the man who had opened the door for me, this one was the complete opposite. He had long black hair that curled at his nape and striking green eyes that were impossible to notice. He had a softer more delicate scholarly look compared to the other guy who looked more like a killer than your average Joe.

The boy looked older than me too and he also had a towel on.

"You... your—your song is...is...is bothering me—me." I finally managed to say. 

"Ohh...we apologize for the disturbance. Beethoven is just too exquisite to be listened through earbuds don't you think?"

 The boy smiled at me, taking a spoonful of the strawberry and banana cereal.

"We'll turn it down so you can rest." the bigger guy said and with that, they shut the door in my face.

I return back to my house on the other side of the street dazed, completely at a loss for words yet disappointed. How can someone that hot and someone that cute be gay?

I mean...that's the only reasonable explanation for why the hell two insanely good looking would be living together right?

The thought broke me. Back at Daeson high in Spain, there were countless hot guys streaming in and out of the school doors on a daily basis but none ever noticed me. I have heterochromia which in Spain is equivalent to being Satan's spawn herself.

Now on my bed, the blaring sound had died down and I am left alone with the loud silence of my house infiltrating my thoughts.

Tomorrow is Friday but the school I applied for said I can resume fully by Monday so why not?

The next morning, I woke up at exactly six o’clock out of pure habit. Back in Spain, years of early classes and endless routines had trained my body to rise before the sun fully settled into the sky.

No matter how exhausted I felt the night before, my eyes always snapped open at the same hour.

I pushed the covers away and climbed out of bed, stretching lazily in my baby pink top and matching Hello Kitty shorts before padding barefoot across the room. 

The house was unusually quiet so I checked the guest room first, then the living room upstairs, but there was no sign of Uncle Matthew anywhere.

The faint smell of coffee eventually drifted toward me and led me downstairs.

I found him in the kitchen standing by the stove in his work clothes, moving around with surprising energy for someone awake this early. Bacon sizzled softly in the pan while slices of bread toasted were beside it. 

On the counter were two egg sandwiches neatly stacked on a plate with sausages by the side and a steaming mug of black coffee. 

“You’re up already?” I asked, rubbing my sleepy eyes as I walked into the kitchen.

Uncle Matthew glanced over his shoulder and smiled. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“It’s six in the morning,” I groaned dramatically. “Normal people are still asleep.”

“Well, normal people don’t work at a plant thirty minutes away.” He chuckled, sliding the eggs onto the toast. “My shift starts by seven sharp. If I leave late, I’m doomed.”

I leaned against the counter watching him pack his lunch into a small cooler bag. “That sounds miserable.”

“It pays the bills,” he replied with a shrug and a smile that showed the creases on his cheeks before pointing at the food. “Eat before it gets cold.”

After breakfast, Uncle Matthew grabbed his keys and headed for the door. He reminded me twice to lock up properly before disappearing outside and minutes later I heard the low rumble of his car fading down the street.

Not wanting to sit around doing nothing, I cleaned the kitchen, washed the few dishes in the sink, and wandered through different parts of the house afterward. The place still felt unfamiliar despite having moved in. 

I was wiping down the kitchen counter when the doorbell rang.

My brows furrowed in confusion.

Who could possibly be here this early?

I hurried to the front door and pulled it open, only for my thoughts to blank out completely.

Standing outside was the curly-haired boy from yesterday.

Today, unlike yesterday’s towel incident, he was fully dressed in fitted black pants and a grey top layered beneath a blue denim jacket. 

He had on black sneakers while a dark sling bag hung across his shoulder casually. Even through the loose clothes, I could tell he had an athletic build, the kind that came naturally from constant workouts rather than showing off in gyms. 

His dark curls framed his face perfectly, and the green eyes I had seen yesterday were now replaced with soft brown contact lenses that somehow made him look gentler.

...and he smelled ridiculously good.

Something masculine and clean mixed with a faint trace of lavender wrapped around me the second I opened the door.

“Hi,” he greeted warmly. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

Up close, he was even prettier than I remembered. Tall and lanky with white tanned skin, sharp features, and the kind of smile capable of making people lower their guard instantly.

“I uh… no,” I managed quickly. “You’re alright.”

“I came to apologize properly for the noise last night.” He lifted a basket filled with fruits slightly toward me. “Peace offering.”

My eyes widened a little. “Seriously?”

“Well, Beethoven apparently attacked your sleep schedule.” He laughed softly.

I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I accepted the basket from him. “Thank you.”

“I’m Luca by the way,” he added. “I live across the street.”

“Oh.” I nodded slowly before the memory of yesterday resurfaced in my head. A teasing grin tugged at my lips before I could stop it. “You and your boyfriend look really good together by the way. I'm sorry if I had interrupted...anything too.”

For a second, Luca stared blankly at me.

Then he burst into laughter.

An actual laugh and boy did he look dreamy. 'No wonder that other guy fell for him.' I thought silently.

He bent slightly, shaking his head while waving his hand in amusement. “Boyfriend?” he repeated between chuckles. “That was my twin brother girl.”

My face burned instantly.

“Oh my God.”

“We’re Irish twins technically,” he explained with an amused smile. “Born really close together.”

I looked down in embarrassment. “That somehow makes this worse.”

A soft chuckle escaped him before he suddenly stepped closer. My breath caught slightly as he lifted my chin gently with one finger, forcing me to look back up at him.

His gentle eyes lingered on mine softly in a way that made my stomach flutter with butterflies. That he smelled ridiculously good didn't make it any better.

“Your eyes are beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he was speaking without thinking. “You shouldn’t hide them behind your bangs.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks so quickly I thought I might combust.

No one had ever complimented my eyes before.

They all called me all sorts of names because of them.

Back in Spain, my heterochromia had made me stand out in all the wrong ways. People stared too long, whispered cruel things, and acted like my different colored eyes were something unnatural. Eventually I learned to hide behind long bangs and avoid attention altogether.

Yet Luca looked at me like they were something worth admiring. Like I was a new scientific phenomenon he had just discovered.

I didn’t know what to do with that.

“So…” he suddenly said, stepping back casually like he hadn’t just destroyed my entire nervous system. “Need help with anything?”

“Like what?”

“The dishes, cleaning..., human interaction or maybe...a friend?"

I laughed despite myself and moved aside so he could enter.

 "A friend doesn't sound too bad and I could use some help with the dishes, boxes, etcetera."

The next hour passed by strangely fast.

While drying dishes together, we talked about almost everything imaginable. I told him about moving from Spain recently and his face lit up immediately when he admitted he was from Spain too.

 Somehow that alone made conversation easier. We spoke about school, favorite subjects, horrible teachers, music, random memories, and stupid childhood stories until it barely felt like we had just met.

Luca was easy to talk to. He was one of those people who could instantly form a bond with any kind of person.

By the time we finished cleaning the kitchen, he had somehow convinced me to play a game with him in the upstairs living room.

We were just about to head toward the living room when the doorbell rang again.

“I’ll get it,” I said quickly.

I opened the door and almost stumbled back. Standing outside was that Goliath I had met the other night! And apparently his name is Leonardo...?

Unlike Luca’s softer appearance, Leonardo looked sharp enough to cut through glass. He wore a white shirt that stretched perfectly over his broad frame with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. A pair of black pants sat low against his narrow waist while a dark jacket hugged his athletic physique perfectly.

 Everything about him screamed intimidating without him even trying.

His dark eyes flicked toward me briefly before returning elsewhere like I barely existed.

“Is Luca here?” he asked flatly.

Before I could answer, Luca squeezed himself through the doorway with an exaggerated frown.

“You’re seriously no fun,” he complained dramatically. “Do you know she thought we were dating?”

Leonardo finally looked at me properly.

It lasted barely two seconds, yet my heart stumbled so hard against my ribs it actually hurt. Like really hurt.

Then he looked away again.

“We’re leaving,” he said simply, ignoring Luca's comment.

Outside, a black Mercedes Benz waited beside the lawn. Leonardo walked toward it without another word and slid into the driver’s seat while Luca lingered by the doorway.

A loud honk sounded moments later.

Luca rolled his eyes. “Bossy as usual.”

He reached into his sling bag, pulled out a pen, then grabbed my hand before I could react. His long bony fingers curled warmly around mine as he scribbled something against my skin carefully.

It was his number.

“Call me sometime,” he said with a grin.

Before leaving, he flicked my forehead gently, making me gasp in annoyance before laughing under his breath. Then he turned around and jogged down the stairs toward the waiting car.

I stood there quietly as the Mercedes pulled away from the curb, disappearing slowly down the street while sunlight reflected against the dark windows.

“Leonardo…” I muttered softly, placing a hand against my chest.

I couldn't get him off my mind.