Love, Emma

Chapter Thirteen:

"Emma, sweetie time to wake up." Soft knocks on the door accompany the soothing voice, almost melodic in the early morning.

Rolling over beneath the thick covers, I sit up, running my hand through my messy hair and pushing it back off my eyes.

It feels so different to wake up in a room that's not your own, so foreign, almost like you're an outsider. The walls are shadowed from the sunlight leaking in through the window, coloring the white walls in a soft, hazy orange, much like that of a sky at sunset.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I drop down to the floor, the wood cool against my bare feet, yet refreshing at the same time. With careful steps I carry myself to the door, still unfamiliar with the rooms set up, one so different from my own. I throw open the door, greeted by the luminescent hallway lights, guiding me down the pass to the kitchen, where I can hear the boys talking away despite the early morning hour.

After having known them for so long in their work clothes, with aprons covering majority of that too, it's a different version of themselves to see them in their pajamas, almost a version of themselves more relaxed, more at ease.

It was a sea of long legs cloaked in flannel pants and form fitting undershirts. Helen was wrapped in a robe, her back to us as she slaved over the stove, passing off what smelt like omelets to the boys' waiting plates.

Joining the end of their line, behind Enzo, I reached for the top plate resting on the waiting stack, poking his back with it playfully.

"Buongiorno bella." He calls over his shoulder, turning just slightly to send me a wink, noting my obvious frown at his use of Italian around me.

"No fair, I can't speak a foreign language to annoy you guys." My voice is lost in their laughter, earning an eye roll from me as I collect my omelet from Helen, a quiet thank you leaving my lips as I examine the cheeky smile on her face.

"Don't worry bella, you'll catch on fast after living with us." Matteo ruffles my hair as I walk by his seat, earning a glare from me as I sit down across from him, next to Nathan.

"Morning," I send him a soft smile, earning a slight smile back in turn. Rather than replying he just nods and looks away fast, his eyes downcast to his plate, as if analyzing the omelet settled there.

Deciding to let him be, I dig into the eggs, nearly moaning at the taste. I couldn't name any of the spices in the eggs if asked, but it tasted so good, so flavoured and rich.

After scarfing down my eggs and a glass of juice, making small talk in between, and thanking Helen profusely for the amazing breakfast, I head back to my room determined to tame my hair and make myself presentable for the day ahead.

.   .   .   .   .

I can feel their stares burning holes in my back, their eyes following us as we maneuver through the crowds, exiting the packed parking lot and reaching the bland, stone front steps. Nathan starts taking them two at a time, his long legs easily covering the space between, where as I run to catch up with him, noting the shaking hands he stuffs in his pockets and the quivering of his lips as he anxiously glances around.

Yanking the door open, he holds it for me, gesturing me in quickly, trying to escape the prying eyes of our classmates. Grabbing his hand, I pull him in after me, but I don't let go. His hand remains in mine, large and warm, heating my numb fingers, once we're inside, squeezing so hard I think I'll lose circulation. I don't complain though, I just squeeze back and keeping walking, gliding my way through the crowd of onlookers with a six foot ten giant in tow.