Gio

Celia comes out of the room ten or fifteen minutes later. Wearing a black turtleneck.

That's right. She changed. She's matching with me.

With her cute little gray skirt, black leggings, and boots. Lips red and hair all wavy.

Chase smirks at me under his lashes, shaking his head when I ask what's so funny.

I'm at the head of the table. Ari and Liam across from me. On my right is Chase, Arthur and Oscar. On my left is an empty chair, then it's Marilyn and Chanel and another empty chair.

Obviously she'll sit next to me—

Chanel.

"Oh, fuck. I forgot about your disgusting perfume." She leaves gaping Chanel behind and comes to slump down beside me.

"What?" She rolls her eyes at me when I stare, unraveling the white napkin over her lap.

"I think your perfume is nice, Chanel." Arthur compliments.

"Just don't swim in it." Chase shrugs; I kick his shin under the table. "Please."

"Can you not talk to me? Your piercings just creep. Me. Out." She sips her white wine.

Chase flicks his pierced tongue like a crazy maniac, making Chanel choke on her drink.

"Gio has no complaints. He likes it." Chase bites his cornmeal roll and winks at me. "Right, baby?"

"Shut up."

"Gio, start the prayer." Marilyn whispers excitedly.

Celia snorts under her breath, I try not to smirk.

"Marilyn, did you know that the last time I prayed, I ended up meeting Celia?" I ask.

Celia turns pink. She keeps her head down. I love how embarrassed she gets. It's so rare, but cute.

"Aw, are you saying she's a blessing?" Chanel cooes.

"No. She's a curse." I nod seriously, then get kicked under the table. "Ow!"

"I'm the devil." Celia sighs, folding her hands under her chin. "Chase, let's drink."

"Soon. Let's have daddy Gio pray, then it's party time with uncle Chase." He nods reassuringly and puts his hands together, closing his eyes. "I have a lot to apologize for."

"Please. Keep everything to yourself." I am not even kidding. I turn to the rest of the table. "Alright, people. Let's start this... thing."

"It's a prayer honey, not a business meeting. Don't sweat it. You'll do great." Marilyn comforts.

The group puts their hands together and closes their eyes, actually going along with it. Jesus, I'm about to make an idiot out of myself.

"Dad, tell Luna to close her eyes!"

"Luna, please close your eyes."

"I'm an atheist." Celia speaks in what I assume is meant to be Luna's voice, which sounds like a cartoon witch.

"Shh!" Marilyn hushes.

"Okay..." I bow my head, taking another deep breath. "Hello, Lord. Oh, God. I mean, hello God."

Celia snickers and I just know she's thinking something dirty, which only gushes blood to my already flustered face.

"Sorry." I laugh then clear my throat to cover it. "I'm sorry. I don't do this... often. But you know, maybe I should?" I hesitate to say the next words, but something feels different. "Good things have been happening around you, maybe not in the most traditional way, but, what's traditional about us? We're all weird and different."

"What is this soap opera shit? I didn't sign up for this. When can we eat?" Chase whispers to me. "Can you wrap it up, already?"

I put my palm on his face, eyes still closed.

"Shut up, Chase." Celia mumbles and I open my eyes in surprise, noticing her head bowed.

I regret that we're not alone right now for the hundredth time tonight. "And please, bless these people," I say, looking at her. "For coming into our lives. They might not know it, but every little thing counts. Every kind word, laughter, and support. Thank you for this table— the food, not the furniture, that'd be stupid—"

"Dumbass..." Celia chuckles under her breath.

"No, I'm not." I snort and burst out laughing.

"What the hell is wrong with them?" Chase complains. "I want to eat already!"

"Giovanni." Marilyn sings, but it sounds like an innocent death threat.

"And thank you for our health and our families, amen." I quickly say.

"Amen." The table murmurs then everyone opens their eyes, beginning Thanksgiving dinner.

I look around and realize, this is the first time I'm hosting in my life. And people are smiling. It's not a cold, lonely, Holiday dinner where no one's looking at each other. Where the food is cold and old, void of thoughtfulness and affection.

It's a crazy town full of crazy people. And I could do without most of them right now, to be honest.

Right now, I just want to be with one person.

"Celia, tequila time." Chase brings over the bottle, ignoring my quiet glare. "Drink up girl, nobody is going to get in your way tonight."

"Thanks." She smiles, holding up her shot glass."Let's take a lot of shots tonight!"

"Start counting, wildcat." He winks, clicking his glass against hers. "Try to keep up."

"What about us?" Chanel gasps.

"Yeah!" Arthur laughs. Nothing's funny, dude.

Celia ignores them and takes her shot by herself, acting like no one's around. "Another one!" She looks up and innocently smiles at Chase.

"Slow down." I murmur, unable to hide my amusement.

She scowls like I'm an idiot and pulls out her phone, smirking a little as she clicks on the screen and turns it towards me, showing me my own face with a selfie-camera. "Please, repeat that again. For the proper audience."

"Celia, would you like some mashed potatoes?" Marilyn leans over with my special dish, voice a little secretive. Or maybe it's just me. I'm excited.

"Sure." The fool nods and gets a scoop of my special mashed potatoes on her plate.

"Tell me what you think." Marilyn sips on water, pointing her pinky out.

I drink some water too, but don't point my pinky. I just hide my smile behind the rim of my glass as Celia tastes my first ever properly cooked meal.

"Ooh, does this have jalapeños?" She asks Celia and I almost scream YES.

"It does." Marilyn beams, drawling with pride. "And some other spices with new cheeses."

"I love it, grandma. You're amazing." Celia rests her head on Marilyn's shoulder.

"I made it." I jump in front of her face, pointing at myself. "Me. That's my food. You're eating my cooking. Ha!"

She straightens up and blinks at me, processing the news. "Then I take it back, it tastes like shit."

"You can't take it back. You already said it!"

"Celia, be nice." Marilyn scolds with a disapproving look. "He was really looking forward to having you try it."

She blushes a little and looks down. "Whatever, that's not my problem."

"We know, we know. Gio has a lot of talents." Chase drawls, rolling his eyes. "Now stop listening to him and have a drink with me."

"I've been waiting for you to pour it!" Celia grins, lifting up her glass. I don't know if she's doing this to annoy me, but I'm actually happy she's getting along so well with my best friend.

"Gio, you're going to drink with us?" Chase asks.

"No." I push my chair back and get up, needing some space. "I'm going to smoke a little."

"Obviously..." Celia scoffs like she's not surprised.

Hm. Does she want attention? Because she's about to get it whether she likes it or not.

"Do you want some?" I ask, standing with my hands in my pocket. My crotch is nearly in front of her face and I have to hide my amusement at how she struggles to keep eye-contact.

"Yes." She challenges and stands up. My gaze drifts down to her legs, her flexed thighs behind those sheer, black leggings. I imagine the ripping sound they'd make if I tore them— either with my hands or my teeth, maybe both— before eating her tight, little pussy.

She stares at me under her lashes and tosses her hair behind her shoulder, like my existence bothers her. Except a quick lift of her brow gives her away, proving she's just trying to rile me up.

I beckon her to walk ahead of me, which she doesn't seem to like one bit and remains standing still, acting unimpressed. I blink at her calmly, knowing I'll find and enjoy a thousand ways to make her regret it.

She rolls her eyes and turns around, stomping her heels on the wooden floor, not realizing she's just giving me an even better view of her ass.

I turn to Chase who's been staring at me this whole time, still holding Celia's shot glass.

"You coming?" I ask him, making it clear that the answer is no.

"No, thank you. I'm busy drinking with my bestie." He grins and gives the shot glass to Marilyn.

I follow Celia out, closing the door behind us. The night is cold. It's quiet. The moon is out with some gray clouds. The trees look black, looking up. Their leaves rustle. It smells of wet grass, dust and distant smoke. She takes a seat on the patio chair while I grab a joint from the garage.

"You cold?" I ask, coming back out. "You want a jacket?"

"I'm fine." Her voice shakes softly, her figure drunk in the shadows.

I sit before her and spread my legs, leaning back. Hers are crossed, curved elegantly. Her hips tilt as she leans on the armrest, lifting her shoulders a little. I love it when she looks so vulnerable.

I put the joint between my lips and curve my hand over the tip, flicking the lighter under it. The paper burns as I inhale, making a crackling sound. The heat hits the back of my throat. I suck in more through my teeth and tilt my head. The smoke dances upwards, then dissipates.

"It's not too harsh." I pass it to Celia with a smile.

"Thanks." She takes it. "I hate the burn."

"You just have to block it with your tongue." I say as she smokes, remembering how bad she coughed last time.

She nods, blowing it out. "I'm learning."

She stares at me and I can tell she's referring to our argument from this morning. Reminding me that she's still upset.

"Did you miss your mom today?" I ask softly, wondering if she's been alone all day with her thoughts. I hate the idea of that.

"Mm." Her voice gets quieter, smaller.

My baby girl. "Come here." I turn my palm on the armrest, curling my fingers when she hesitates.

She sits on my lap and I almost sigh in relief. The warmth of her, the weight of her body on mine, her closeness, everything calms me down.

She wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a hug, I squeeze her tight against my chest. "You're okay." I brush my palm up and down her back, nuzzling my nose in her hair.

Celia pulls back, her lips inches away. She lifts her dark lashes and looks at me, eyes so big and innocent. I almost feel guilty for messing with her, but she makes it too much fun.

"What?" I ask, just wanting to see her squirm.

She clenches her thighs and shakes her head quickly. I smirk down at her legs and my hand on one of them, then squeeze it. She flinches and lifts her legs off the ground, casually just balancing on my thigh.

I smile and watch her while taking another drag, then lower the joint and lean towards her. She tries to pull away, but I grab her chin. I part my lips over hers and blow the smoke in her mouth.

She stays still in the beginning, then jerks her head aside and coughs, tearing up.

"Too much..." She chokes, making me laugh.

She glares at me like I just dishonored her cow.

"Give that to me!" She snatches the joint and smokes, narrowing her eyes. I stare at her lips as she lowers the joint and eagerly leans in.

Like a little dragon. Poof. A tiny bit of smoke.

I blow out and before she can complain about me not coughing like she did, I grab the back of her neck and pull her in for a proper kiss.

At first she freezes, maybe wondering about her red lipstick that I'm ruining, but I don't care. I wrap my hand around her throat and slowly squeeze. She makes a small, whimpering noise and kisses me back, relaxing against me.

I struggle to fully focus on her when someone inside the house might come out and bother us again. So I reluctantly pull back and put out the joint.

Silence settles between us for a moment, but it's comfortable as we look at each other.

"I saw Alex today..." she says.

"What?" My muscles instantly tense.

"At the graveyard. I went to visit my mom, you know. He knows that I go there every year before dinner." She looks down at her hands.

"Did he hurt you?" Scenarios run through my head, making my voice rushed. "Why didn't you call?"

"Because I'm fine." She laughs, rolling her eyes, pissing me off even more. "Besides, he just wanted to apologize."

"This is not a joke, Celia. You have to call me when these things happen."

"Why would I call you when these things happen?" She smiles like I'm being funny. "Why would I ever do that?"

"Because you can be naive and reckless." I scowl. "Because you might not be able to defend yourself. You should always call me when something like that happens."

She throws her head back and laughs, hitting my chest. "Oh. It's funny that you think I'll ever be like that."

"What did he say to you?" I snap.

"Nothing." She sobers up, becoming serious.

"What do you mean, nothing?"

"It's not important." She looks away, voice softer and a little nervous.

Oh no. "Celia..." I brush my hands up her hips, lowering my head to level with her eyes. "Look at me." She looks at me under her lashes as I speak to her softly. "What did he tell you, baby?"

She fidgets with her hands behind my neck, struggling to open up. I draw slow circles over her hips with my thumbs, waiting patiently.

"He... wanted to give me the keys to my mom's apartment," she says, looking down.

"He what? The one Aram offered if you agreed to move to New York with Alex?"

"He said Aram found my mom's parents and offered them a lot of money. That apartment was never up for rent. Everything inside was how she left it last time she was there. Everything..." Her voice trails off, becoming even smaller. "Her books and paintings, all her decorations. The bedsheets she slept in. There was a small, cozy kitchen and a bright, sunny living room. It was her, Gio." She breaks down behind her hands. "Everything there was a piece of my mom."

"I'm so sorry..." I whisper, fuming inside. If she wasn't in so much pain, I don't think I'd be here right now. I'd be looking for Alex to break his bones into the ground. I'd shatter every single teeth in his mouth. Make him choke on his own blood for making someone like Celia cry.

But Celia needs me, so I snake my arm under her knees and lift her higher on my lap. I wrap my other arm around her waist, holding the side of her head. I kiss her forehead, trying to massage the stress tightening her from head to toe.

"You're okay baby..." I murmur in her ear, making my voice more light than I feel. "I'll talk to him. I'll make sure he never bothers you again. I promise, okay? Don't worry."

"What?" She pulls back, blinking with her lashes all stuck together. "No, you will not."

"Why not?"

"Because. I already took care of it."

"What do you mean?"

Celia hesitates and I don't know why, but the way she sucks in a sharp breath as if trying not to say something, makes me think of the worst.

"Did you take the keys?" I ask.

She gives me a blank expression, voice calm. "Why? What would you say if I did?"

I'm taken by surprise. Shit. I was not expecting this. I wrinkle my forehead and look at her. "What would I say? To you going to New York so you could live in your mom's apartment?"

"Yes."

"And this is assuming Alex wasn't lying and planning something?"

"Assuming he gave me the keys and paperwork, then went his separate way." Celia nods.

Damn. That really... complicates things.

Would I be okay with Celia gone?

I stare at my hand on her thigh, her legs in between mine. I take her hand and hold it on her lap, brushing my thumb over her knuckles.

"I'd tell you that I'm very happy for you." I look at her, trying to smile. "I'd do my best to support you. I know how much you miss your mom. I bet living in her apartment with all her history would mean a lot to you."

She frowns, breathing heavier. "Really? You'd want me gone? Just like that?"

"Of course not just like that."

"Would you ask me to stay?"

My mouth opens and closes. She stares at me so intensely that she doesn't even move.

"I wouldn't do that to you," I murmur and try to swallow, but my throat has gone dry.

"Would you want me to stay." Celia demands.

And give away your freedom? For what. Me?

I shake my head slowly, voice a low whisper. "It wouldn't matter."

She scoffs under her breath, her lips curving up as she looks at the ground. "Wow. I see."

"What are you..." I trail off as she gets off my lap, leaving my hands on her hips.

She looks at me with no emotion, but her voice softly breaks. "For the record, Gio? I said no."

"No?"

"I didn't take the keys."

"Why not?" I ask, lowering my hands from her.

"Because." She laughs, eyes watering up. "I'm in love..." She lifts her hand over me, then drops it defeatedly. "With a coward."

~ A/N ~
Ah, guys. Poor Celia and Gio! Intimacy issues, abandonment issues, don't you just love pain?!? No? Just me? Maybe I need help. Jk, not maybe.