I’ll try. If not tomorrow, definitely soon.
Me
Okay. I’ll miss you.
<3
I know. Me too. My absence doesn’t mean I love you any less. You know that, right?
My lungs stop. The words clear across my screen aren’t there, right? Only imagined? But no, they’re there, forever immortalized.
He’s never said that before.
Hell, pretty sureIdon’t feel that way. Everything seems too new between us. Our relationship has been limited to the occasional date and texts, since our lives are so different, and if Madre knew the ‘friend’ I hung out with was a boyfriend, she’d lose her mind.
It’swaytoo soon for the I-Love-Yous. But he said it and is waiting for a response. Do I lie and say I do too? Ignore it entirely and pretend it doesn’t exist?
Thankfully, another message pops up, saving me from responding:
<3
I have to go. Sleep well.
Me
Night.
A deep, appreciative breath helps me shut that text thread and open the one with Amara.
Me
Hope everything’s okay.
After five minutes, there’s still no response, so I plug my cell in for the night, flick off the bedside lamp, and settle in to sleep, waking only for the morning—for my future.
He is takingsofucking long.
It’s like he’s doing it on purpose, the dick. Since when has a man taken this long to get ready?
When Levfinallyemerges from his room, he’s in his standard cargo pants and black shirt, only this time with the addition of sunglasses resting on his head. One hand grips his phone, the other a black backpack, which he slips his laptop into before tossing over his shoulder.
“I’m shocked you didn’t take off without me.”
“Almost did,” I grumble. “Also, you don’t look like a student.”
“No?” Perfect brows arch up, and he scans himself. “Tell me what to fix.”
Nothing on him needs to befixed, per se. If anything, he’ll become the prototype for how every other male should dress.
“Trust me. There’s no fixing this.”
He scowls, clearly taking my comment the wrong way. “Considering I’m older than you and everyone else here, there’s only so much I can do. Deal with it.”
Outside, he falls into his normal pattern of allowing me to lead. I head for the building my first class, Introduction to Biology, is listed as being in. It’s a mandatory course, which means it’ll likely be boring.
Wishing we toured the buildings yesterday to scope them out, I finally find the correct room. Beside it, crisp caffeine wafts from a student-run coffee shop, which taunts me with the fact I skipped breakfast, and thus, coffee.
Zeno keeps my accounts topped with more money than I know how to spend. Most of the euros the Cosa Nostra brings in are tainted with crime, but that hasn’t stopped me from spending when necessary. Necessary, because it’s also not something I enjoy tapping into. Zeno’s the only reason I’m able to afford school, but I’m aiming to limit my spending until getting a job and trying to live how normal students do—without that extra leg up.
