'Love' at First Sight [2p!Romano x Reader][Part 4]

    You gave your daughter a tight hug as tears ran down your face. She stood at the bottom on the grand staircase and hugged you back, however she did not cry. "You're so beautiful, ___(daughter's name)___," you said, holding on to your daughter's hands. She smiled, and put her hands on your face, leaning down to eye level with you. "And so are you, thank you mamma[1]," she said. Your daughter was slightly taller than you naturally, especially since she's in heels. She was wearing a light pink ball gown with golden heels that matched a pair of earrings and a locket that she hadn't taken off since she was 13. Her hair was long and had the beauty of Flavio's, but now it was pulled into an updo and held together with a pink ribbon. She wore makeup, something she almost never wears due to her blinding beauty, but since that night was a special night she decided that she'd do something different.

    "___(name)___, it's not her wedding day, only i cento giorni[2]," Flavio said impatiently, holding a camera in his hand. "Yeah!, what papà said!" your ten year old son said, crossing his arms. Flavio chuckled, holding his camera up. "I'm taking the picture now, Sorridi[3]!" Flavio said, pointing the camera and you and your daughter. "Sorridi!" the two of you said, posing for the camera with your arms wrapped around your daughter as she did the same. Flavio smiled when it was over. "Beautiful picture," Flavio said, showing your son the image from the camera screen. "E 'una bella foto[4]," he said, smiling. "Grazie," both you and ___(daughter's name)___ said together. 

    About an hour later into the night, it was only you, Flavio, and your son left back at the large house. "Mamma, I want ice cream," ___(son's name)___ said, patting your arm. The three of you were laying on the bed that you had laid in when you had first came to Italy. You turned towards your son and smiled, scooting yourself onto the edge of the bed and helping him out of it. Since the all of you were fully clothed, you walked with your son, and with Flavio following close behind, to the front door. Flavio offered to drive, and the three of you were whisked off into the night. Flavio drove safely through Rome, holding your hand with his right hand as his left steered the car down the road.

    On the way back home, the two of you were again, hand in hand, and your son lay sleeping in the backseat. "Flavio," you said, somewhat hesitantly. He glanced at you quickly, knowing you for as long as he has, you saying his name like that usually never meant good news. "Yes, bella[5]?" he said slowly. "Well..." you began to say, beginning to rethink your decision to bring it up. "Well, I wanted to know why we haven't planned our marriage yet." You ended up spitting it out, not like you planned, and looked softly at Flavio. "Please, let us not have this conversation with ___(son's name)___ here," he said calmly. "I only asked," you whined at him, who looked at you and then back to the road. "Flavio, I just want to know," you continued. "I'm just not ready!" he said, raising his voice at you. You didn't say anything, but checked to see if your son was still asleep. After you noticed that he was, you turned back to Flavio. "How are you not ready?" you said, equally matching the volume of his voice. "We have two children, Flavio. It's been nearly twenty years! How can you not be ready to marry someone who you've known for twenty years, have two children with, and even wouldn't let me go home after all of this time?" By the end of your sentence, your volume had risen to the point of yelling, and a couple of tear drops were leaking out from the corners of your eyes. "Enough!" Flavio said, looking at you. "We'll continue this conversation later."

    Once home, you sat in the big bed that had never changed since you arrived in Italy. The bed that Flavio offered you when "moved in" with him. You hugged your knees to your chest, and just waited. Flavio was tucking your son into bed, and would be in there to speak to you when he was finished. However, you didn't want to even see him. You just wanted to know what could possibly be so wrong with getting married. The door to the room slowly opened, and the sound of footsteps followed the door. You kept your gaze locked on the window, looking out into the dark sky. Flavio came and sat next to you, sighing. "I don't get it," you said, not moving nor turning your head to face him. "What do you not understand?" he asked, looking at you whether you looked at him or not. You snapped your head towards him, yelling, "I don't understand what's so wrong with marrying me! First, you want me forever, and now, you don't want me at all! It's like I stayed here for nothing!" Flavio's face grew dark, anger rising. "You had no reason to keep me here except for the fact that you apparently loved me, which I can't even believe anymore because I'm not good enough to marry!" you continued. Your voice grew louder and shakier with every word, and tears quickly stung behind your eyes. 

    "You know that I love you, ___(name)___!" Flavio responded. He was angry, and it was obvious. "No you don't!" you screamed at him, tears finally reaching your eyes and falling down your face. "You don't love me! You only use me for your own pleasure!" Flavio lunged himself at you, as if he was going to hit you, but he didn't touch you. You flinched at this, and were actually shocked that he didn't threaten you, or attack you in some way. "I don't, and you'd see that if you're the one who really loved me," he growled, angrily huffing only a few spaces away. "Well, why won't you marry me then? Am I not who you want?" you said loudly. This time, Flavio got up from the bed and left the room, slamming the door shut and leaving you alone. You laid on the bed, and curled into a pillow that was under you. Your cries echoed through the room, and faintly, you could hear Flavio get into his car and leave. 

    The next morning, you woke up with tears caked on your face and a wet pool on the pillow beside you. You stood up, and went to the bathroom to clean your face and get ready for the day. When you came out, you wore a white maxi skirt and a light blue button down shirt that was tucked into the skirt. You were barefoot, for you weren't going anywhere today. You walked out of the room quietly, and down the hallway to your daughter's room. You carefully and quietly opened the door, and saw her sleeping with her hair tousled everywhere and her clothes thrown on the floor. You went in the room, sighing, and put her dress on a hanger and hung it in the armoire near the bed, and took her shoes and lined them up with the rest of them that were neatly placed against the wall. You admired the work that you had done, and looked over at your daughter. She looked so cute when she slept, almost like a baby. You smiled before quietly leaving the room, and heading down the hall once again to visit your son. The door was already opened when you reached the room, and your son wasn't inside, but his room was surprisingly clean. You chuckled at the thought of your son getting Flavio's neatness trait, and your daughter getting your messy one. Escorting yourself out of the room, you walked downstairs to find ___(son's name)___. The sound of music could be heard coming from what sounded like an ipod since it wasn't very loud. You followed the sound to the kitchen, to find your son making himself breakfast. You sat at the counter, and he smiled as he saw you, turning his music down. "Ti ho svegliato?[6]" he asked you, somewhat nervously. It took you a minute to think about what he had said, and you couldn't figure it out, but by his body language you guessed what he meant. "No, non l'hai fatto[7]," you responded, hoping you said the right thing. Your son smiled. He didn't know much English yet, so it was hard talking to him sometimes since you didn't know too much Italian yet. 

    After watching your son for a while, you heard footsteps come down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Buongiorno[8], Mamma," your daughter said, hugging you from behind. "Buongiorno, ___(daughter's name)___, how was your sleep?" you asked her. Your daughter understood and spoke more English than your son did, and she was almost on a level that was as good as Flavio's. She shrugged and sat next to you, leaning on the counter with her elbows like her father does. "It was okay, I got home late so, it felt nice to sleep in," she said, picking a berry off of her brother's plate when he wasn't looking and popping it into her mouth. You did the same and went further into the kitchen. "Do you two want anything to drink?" you asked, going to the fridge and pulling out fruit juices. "I want the pink one," your daughter said, pulling a few cups out of the cabinet above the counter. Your son pointed to the chocolate milk behind you in the open fridge. You grabbed it for him, setting both the milk and juice on the counter, then pulling out a carton of iced coffee from the fridge so that it can join the other drinks on the counter. Once everything was poured and set, you put everything back and joined your children at the counter. "You didn't want any breakfast, mamma?" your daughter asked, sipping her juice and taking her brother's berries from off of his plate. "No, I'm fine," you responded, smiling at them.

    After breakfast, you cleared the counter and put the glasses in the dishwasher. The children were back upstairs because it was a Saturday, and you went into the living room to relax yourself. After a while, boredom began to settle, so you called Elizaveta using the house phone. After hours of talking, Elizaveta agreed to come and pick you up from Flavio's house, as well as anyone who wanted to come along. After hanging up, you went upstairs and to your daughter's room. "Do you want to go to Aunt Eliza's house?" you asked her, standing in the doorway. "No thank you, I was going to Gianna's house to stay for the weekend," she responded, looking up at you from inside of her closet. Gianna was her best friend since she was a child, and you smiled at her, walking out of the room and to your son's. "___(son's name)___, do you want to visit Aunt Eliza?" you asked him, who quickly responded with a "Si" and got up from his bed. You giggled at his excitedness, and walked out of the room and to your own. You needed shoes, and after searching for a while, you found a pair of tan, braided sandals that matched well with the tan bag that you were going to bring.

    Hours later, Elizaveta finally arrived. You offered her a drink as she plopped herself onto the couch, somewhat tired from driving. When she was her normal self again, you went upstairs, telling your daughter to make sure she closes the door when she leaves, and letting your son know that it was time to leave. The car ride was fun for you and Elizaveta, the two of you talked and sang to some of both of your favorite songs as you son tried to drown out the singing and laughing with his ipod. Finally, the three of you made it to Elizaveta's house. Her twin sons, Konrad and Tobias, came from the kitchen and ran up to hug you. You couldn't understand what they said, but you smiled at them, telling them hello. Elizaveta escorted you to the parlor where you both sat when you first met her. Tea was made and the same man brought it to the two of you. "Not much has changed since we first met, hm?" you said, sipping tea and smiling. Elizaveta nodded, laughing at the thought. "That may be true but a lot has changed as well," she said to you before stirring in a bit of sugar into the tea. You agreed, smiling at her. "Where was Flavio?" she asked, sipping her tea. You shrugged, "I don't know, we fought last night and he went somewhere. I didn't bother to look." Eliza nodded, pondering his whereabouts. "What happened?" she questioned, taking her first sip from the steamy tea below her. You were hesitant to tell, for you don't know the exact reason. "He doesn't want to marry me," you finally said, quickly taking another taste of the drink. Elizaveta's eyes widened. "It's been such a long time, ___(name)___," she said. You nodded in agreement, as a silence grew between you two.

    The conversation began again, this time with another topic, and it continued for a long time. Before long, three boys rushed to where you were. "Mamma, can I stay here?" you son asked you. You believed that he meant 'Can I stay here overnight" and you looked up at Elizaveta, who was being questioned by her two sons. She said something to them happily, and they looked over at you, who shrugged and nodded. "It's up to you," you told Elizaveta as you fixed your son's hair. Again, some words that you didn't understand were exchanged between the mother and her sons, and afterwards, They cheerfully dragged ___(son's name)___ upstairs. You laughed as your son thanked you in Italian. Turning back to Elizaveta, the two of you looked at each other blankly for a moment, then began to laugh. "Thank you, Eliza," you said, wiping small tears from your eyes from laughter. "No worries, they haven't been together in a while," she told you. Two sets of footsteps approached from behind you, and a familiar voice sounded. You turned around and smiled at the black-haired man that was walking towards you two. "What's so funny," he asked, smiling. "Children," you responded, giving him a hug as he came closer. You looked behind him and saw another boy carrying a violin. "Hello, Levi," you said, waving at the shy boy standing behind his father. He smiled at you and waved back. He didn't speak because he doesn't speak much English, and he was embarrassed to show it off. Elizaveta told Roderich what happened, and he smiled.

    After hours had gone by, You told your son good night and Elizaveta drove you home. You went inside the house, and checked on your daughter. She wasn't there, but she had left a note saying that she loved you and that she was at Gianna's house. You smiled, and went into your old room again, changing into your old pajamas and laying back in your old bed. Your eyes closed, but you couldn't sleep. You kept thinking about Flavio and what happened the night before. Eventually, you heard the front door open and someone come in. You stayed silent and just turned towards the window. You knew it was Flavio by the amount of noise he made when he came into the house, but someone else was with him. You didn't get up, but instead, hugged onto the pillow next to you. It was quiet for a few minutes before you heard him speaking to someone, who giggled at whatever he said. You stayed silent, and tried to go to sleep; you sensed something that you didn't want to be awake to witness. You closed your eyes, trying to fall asleep, but thoughts racing through your mind and the uncomfortable feeling that you had made it almost impossible to sleep. Eventually, the feeling grew more and more intense before the fear finally became reality. You tried to persuade yourself that it wasn't happening, and you were actually dreaming, but it was hard to be convincing when the evidence was right there. You hugged onto your pillow tighter, being careful as to not make a sound.

    The next morning, you woke up and laid in the bed silently. You didn't get up, or even move. You did, however, begin to cry into the pillow that you never let go of, even when you finally fell asleep. After a couple of hours, you got up to get a drink. You looked out of the window, and you didn't see Flavio's car sitting in the circular driveway. You slowly walked downstairs, holding onto the railing as if you'd collapse if you didn't. Finally reaching the kitchen, you shakily poured yourself a glass of alcohol, sat at the counter, and drank it. You put your head atop of folded arms on the countertop and started crying again. The door opened like it did last night, and Flavio walked in as he did last night. He walked over to you, and sat next to you at the counter. "What's wrong, tesoro[9]?" he asked. "Get away from me," you growled, not looking at him or getting up from your folded arms. "Why are you so angry?" he asked you, putting his hand on your back. "Don't ask me that!" you yelled at him, lifting yourself up. "And don't touch me!" You got up from the barstool and put the glass in the dishwasher, then began walking towards the stairs.

    Flavio was following you, and quickly at that. "Stop following me and leave me alone!" you yelled at him again, starting to run upstairs. Flavio grabbed your wrist, keeping you so that you couldn't go any further. "Let me go!" you screamed at him, trying to pull away. "Not until you tell me what's wrong with you," he said angrily. "What the hell are you angry for?" you screamed, increasing the strength of trying to get away. "You aren't the one who isn't good enough to marry! You aren't the one who was cheated on!" Flavio pulled you hard, making you trip down off of the third step and barely stand on the floor. "You do not speak to me like that ___(name)___," he said to you coldly. "I don't care!" you responded, yelling. "Just leave me alone!" You began growing weaker and weaker as sadness began to take over you. Flavio turned your head so that your face was facing his, and he glared at you as tears poured down your face. You mustered up your last bit of strength to pull yourself away from him and run upstairs to your old room. He, however, had caught up to you, and pinned you against the wall with a knife pressed in between the both of you. Listen, ___(name)___," he said strongly and with anger spewing. You cried as all of this felt so familiar to you. It felt like the first time the two of you fought, when you were supposed to leave to go home. He spoke to you furiously, as anger rolled over every word and hit you right in the face. "Are you going to say anything?" he chided as he glared at you. "I hate you so much," you said through tears, putting your hands on his chest and trying to weakly push him away. You felt the cold blade of the knife press slightly harder onto your neck. Flavio hesitated, and pulled the knife away. When he did, you slipped into the room and locked yourself in, getting into the bed and staying there for the rest of the day.