Three days passed, and I hadn't seen Antonio since the heated kiss we'd shared. Frankly, I felt too nervous to face him and acknowledge our intimate moment. It was strange, how I was able to talk to him endlessly, how I could tell him secrets I'd never dare tell anyone else, yet I was afraid to tell him how I felt.

"Allow me to get this straight," Romano raised his eyebrows. "You told Antonio to kiss you, he did, then you ran away from him, and now you've been avoiding him for the past three days?"

"Correct."

Blue eyes alight, Lily began to squeal. "I knew it!"

She obnoxiously stuffed her face with the bowl of chips that was neatly placed in the center of the bed for the three of us to share.

"Careful," Romano screeched, "I just made my bed."

"Whatever, clean freak," Lily rolled her eyes. "Anyways, it was only a matter of time before something happened between the pair of you. Admit it—you like him!"

"I think we've established that already," I rolled my eyes and dramatically collapsed onto the pillow propped against the headboard. "I'm just not sure that's a good thing."

"Of course it is!" Lily exclaimed, flailing her hands so widely that she narrowly missed Romano's face. "Stop making it complicated. You're just scared to give in to your feelings because you've experienced so much loss in your life. Your father dying before you were even born, your mother dying right in front of you, the constant moving from town to town... you've never had anything permanent. You're afraid to like him because you're scared it's just temporary. You're afraid he'll leave."

Romano and I gaped at her in shock.

"Or at least, that's what I'd say if I were your therapist," she added, carelessly reaching for another handful of chips.

"Alright, that's enough." Romano blinked after a moment. "You. Out."

"Me?" I quirked a brow. "What have I done? She's the one getting crumbs all over your bed."

"Hey!" Lily indignantly yelped.

Nonetheless, Romano ushered me off of his bed.

"Go find Antonio." He swiftly ordered. "Lily's right, for once. You need to stop avoiding him. You clearly have feelings for the guy, now go get him!"

I gaped as Romano forcefully pushed me out of his bedroom. "Wh—you're being ridiculous. I don't even know where he is!"

"Check anywhere but here. He's hardly ever home."

My heart stopped as I inferred his words. Of course, Romano had no idea why Antonio was hardly ever home. He was staying away from his abusive father. Before I could say anything further, Romano slammed the door in my face.

"Goodnight to you too," I frowned before pivoting.

As I bounced down the stairs and out of the grand house, I mulled over Lily's words. You're afraid to like him because you're scared it's just temporary. You're afraid he'll leave. She wasn't wrong. Not one bit.

As I sighed and treaded off the front porch, I slowed to a stop once I realized a car was pulling up on the stone driveway–a very clean and expensive car. My breath hitched when I saw who emerged from the driver's seat. Clad in a professional business suit was Antonio's father.

He looked like an older version of Antonio, which was rather unsettling considering how different the two were. His graying hair was stiffly gelled backwards, much unlike Antonio's usual mess of a head. Hair and wrinkles aside, the most obvious difference was the eyes. It wasn't about the color, because they both had dark brown eyes. Perhaps that was why I had never noticed it before. But when I looked close enough, past the false civility, I could see the pure evil harboring behind Mr. Brown's eyes.

I almost thought the scowl on his face was directed at me, but I calmed down once I realized he was speaking to someone through the earpiece he was wearing. It was likely a business partner, or something of the sort. Didn't Antonio say he was the CEO of an oil company? It certainly explained his luxurious lifestyle and heavy work hours. So caught up in his phone call, Mr. Brown brushed past me without a second thought.

I wondered if he remembered me. The first and only time we'd met, he'd not only called me a prostitute, but he'd compared me to a monkey as well. It was clear Mr. Brown was sexist, racist, and every other ist there was. The thought of our last conversation put a frown on my face, and I heavily considered leaving.

Though, how could I let him walk past me like nothing? When I knew this was the man who abused his own son? The man who beat Antonio black and blue when he made a mistake. The man who made Antonio feel unsafe in his own home.

He began to walk into the house, rapidly chattering into his earpiece. What language was that? Italian? Never mind—there were more important matters at hand.

"Wait!" I stopped him.

He abruptly halted his conversation and turned around. My heart rate quickened as I silently debated on what to do.

The blank look on his face informed me that he didn't recognize me. Though, he quickly became irritated at my silence. He wanted to know who this petulant girl was that dared to interrupt his important conversation.

"You dropped your wallet," I meekly stated, pointing at the ground.

The man's eyes lit up in realization. He leaned down to pick up his wallet, which had indeed slipped out of his pocket. When we were eye level once more, he offered me a suspicious look before heading in. As if I'd somehow reached into his pocket and thrown his wallet onto the floor.

I scoffed at the poor excuse of a man before grabbing my earphones from the pocket of my jeans, and blaring music. The noise temporarily distracted me from all thoughts of Mr. Brown. With that, I began the trek home.

I never told anyone about that encounter, ever.

• • •

Although the sky was darkening and the streets were emptying, I couldn't find it in me to head back home. My thoughts were rampant, and seeing Antonio's father only made me all the more anxious. I increased the volume of my earphones, successfully tuning out any noise. The wind blew my curls and slapped my skin. The streets were vacant, so despite walking in the middle of the street, I wasn't all too worried about getting ran over. That in mind, I closed my eyes and began to hum along to the song blaring through my ears. However, this quickly proved to be a mistake when–

"Watch out!"

A loud gasp escaped my plump lips. I tried moving out of the way, but before I knew it, I went flying. I landed on top of a firm body and groaned before reluctantly opening my hazel eyes. I was met with a pair of dark orbs that were alarmingly close to mine.

"Well, hello."

"Antonio?" A major sense of déjà vu enveloped me. For, this was similar to how the two of us had met.

At my clear shock, Antonio merely smirked. As I slowly removed my earphones, a blush swarmed my cheeks. This was our first time speaking since our memorable kiss.

"Is it just me, or does this feel really familiar?" I couldn't help but question, staring at him underneath my body.

"Yeah. This is the second time that you... fell for me," he grinned, clearly proud of the wordplay.

I refrained from giggling at the corny joke. "You bumped into me."

"Well, why are you walking in the middle of the street anyway?"

"Because I can," I childishly stuck out my tongue.

"Whatever. You still fell for me—again," he smirked.

"Mhm, only difference is that your shirt isn't covered in blood this time."

He grinned in recollection. "Touché."

"Y'know, you never actually explained to me why your shirt had blood on it."

"You've never asked."

"Well, I'm asking now," I raised my eyebrows at his stubbornness.

He gave me a reluctant look. "My father."

Those two words were enough to make my stomach drop.

"I'm sorry." He looked away.

"Sorry for what? I'm the one who asked."

I scrambled off of him, despite suddenly having the urge to hug him. He'd been so conditioned by his father, that he felt anything and everything was his fault.

"Why are you out this late?" I changed the topic, because the look on his face told me enough.

"Me? What about you?"

"I asked first."

"I asked second."

I shrugged and resumed a leisurely pace down the street. "Fine, don't answer."

I could hear the clang of Antonio's skateboard hitting the ground before he began to ride after me on the street. I was glad he was behind me. Otherwise, he'd see the smile on my face.

"Where are you going?" Antonio nosily asked.

"Nowhere," I replied, walking faster.

"Hey, wait up."

"Maybe you should skateboard faster," I teased, sparing a glance back at him.

"I'd like to see you try," he sneered.

"Oh, please," I scoffed and pushed him aside. "Let me show you how it's done, grandma."

He watched me climb aboard his skateboard in amusement. I nearly fell at first, though Antonio was quick to rush to my side and grab my hand.

"Careful, Flower! Do you even know what you're doing?" he demanded. "Relax a bit. Go like this."

I nodded and slowly followed his lead. His grip on my hand loosened, until I snapped my head up. "Don't let go!"

He stilled, as if my words had some deeper meaning. Alas, he nodded and tightened his hold on me. "I won't."

Secure with his guidance, I carried on skateboarding up and down the street.

"I think I've got it!" I laughed in excitement. Antonio cautiously let go of me, and I was quick to speed up.

"Alright," Antonio chuckled, "you can stop now."

"I would, but I don't know how," I nervously chuckled. My eyes bulged when I realized I was nearing a grassy park. "Antonio, help!"

It was to no avail. The skateboard stopped once it reached the grass and I practically went flying. Just seconds later, a panting Antonio collapsed down on the grass next to me.

"All you had to do was put your foot down," he stared at me in disbelief, running a hand through his unruly hair.

"You could've told me that," I winced, rubbing my bruised elbows.

We shared a look before erupting into a fit of giggles. When the laughter died down, we lay flat on our backs. My stomach slowly rose up and down as I breathed, before I eventually turned to face him. He had already been looking at me.

"Does it have to be so complicated?" I quietly broke the silence.

The grin slowly slipped off his face. While we both knew what I was talking about, he still asked, "does what?"

"Us," I simply answered. "Why are we avoiding each other?"

Antonio's eyes trailed over to the dark night sky, and his thick eyebrows knitted together. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"How many times do I have to say it? I'm not good for you, Flower." He desperately shook his head as he sat up.

"How would you know what's good for me?" I breathed, sitting up to match his position. "Before my mother died, she told me to be somebody who makes everybody feel like a somebody. So my whole life, I've been a people-pleaser, doing whatever I can to make others feel good. No one's ever done the same for me. No one but you. Antonio, you make me feel like a somebody."

He could hear me, see me, and understand me in ways no one else could. It was only about time he realized it.

"Won't you say something?" My hazel eyes passionately bore into his dark ones. "I like you, Antonio, and I know you like me too!"

He didn't say a word. With every second that trudged by, I could feel the crack in my heart deepening.

"Look up."

"W-What?" I croaked.

"Look up," he simply repeated.

I obliged.

"All I see is the sky."

"What do you feel when you see it? The night sky glow with the moon, the blanket of stars that stretch to infinity..."

I gently inhaled the crisp air as I peered up at the sky. My eyes contently studied the intricate pattern of the stars, and a peaceful feeling enveloped me.

"Sometimes, after my father hurts me, I go to the spot just so I can look at the sky. The world becomes quiet, and even if it's not true, I get the feeling that things will be okay."

My breath hitched as he tenderly placed his large hand over my small one.

"When I look at you, Flower, I get the same feeling I get when I look at the sky. That pure happiness, that hope. I don't just like you, Flower. I love you," Antonio admitted, "and I have for a while now."

A gasp escaped my lips. The intricate emotion that was always behind his eyes when he looked at me... I now knew what it was.

While I wasn't quite sure what it was just yet, I knew that my feelings for him were too powerful to put into words. I could feel myself subconsciously leaning in for a kiss. When our lips were a mere inch apart, a slow applause made us break eye contact and swiftly turn around.

"How adorable," the culprit sneered. Buzz.

• • •