A T H E N A

"You just don't know how beautiful you are, and baby that's my favorite part"

° ° °

"So... which kind of tampons do you use?

Tampax pearl complex? Light, regular, super plus? Jesus, what kind of names do they give these things?" Chris mutters, staring confused at the ray of pads and tampons in front of him. I chuckle and decide to help him out of his misery.

"Just take the normal pads. Tampons hurt," I tell him. He frowns, and rakes a hand through his messy blond hair. He takes a step to the right, where the pads are and his frown deepens.

"Which one do you prefer? Always or Stayfree? And again, what size? Ugh, they're driving me insane," he mutters. Laughing at him, I take the normal ones from Always and put them in the cart. On the way to the food section I explain it to him.

"Look, when I'm on my period and ask you to come get pads for me, just take the dark-blue ones with wings, from Always," I tell him. He frowns.

"And what are the other ones for?"

"Depends on the amount of blood. Some women don't suffer much from their menstruation or don't have a lot of blood, so they pick the smaller sizes. But I prefer the bigger ones."

His cute frown deepens, but he nods. "Alright. So why did you take these tiny ones if you prefer the bigger ones?" he asks, confusion still clear in his voice.

"Because, I always use them just a few days before my period starts, so that my clothes don't get stained."

Muttering that he gets it, which I hardly believe, we continue our way through the supermarket.

"So, how's your dad?" I ask him, pushing the cart forward. He stops scrolling on his phone and puts it in his back-pocket of his jeans.

"Good, he made me work-out yesterday for eight hours," he sighs. I frown.

"That's a lot. He doesn't let you take a break?"

He presses his lips together and shakes his head. "Nope. Mom wasn't home, so she wasn't there to tell him to stop working me out so much. He takes advantage of that."

I feel bad for him, but I know that telling him to tell his father the truth is a lost cause. And his father is way too stubborn than to let his only son quit football.

"I'm sorry Chris. You know I want to help you, but you won't let me," I say and stop the cart, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You know him, Athena. He won't listen. And when he finds out that I've been taking secret guitar lessons this year he'll kill me," he says, a pained expression in his eyes. My heart breaks for him.

"I'm so--"

"Athena?"

No, this can't be happening. My body immediately responds to his voice, and I clench my thighs together out of instinct. His accent sends shivers down my spine, and slowly I turn around, meeting the dark brown eyes of Vincenzo.

"Vincenzo! Hi, funny running into you here," I say, with a rather forced smile on my face. I don't want Chris to see how I'm reacting to a man 17 years my senior. Vincenzo chuckles, and his eyes move from me to Chris.

"Hello, I think we've met earlier, yes? On the parking lot?" Vincenzo asks him, raising questioningly a brow in Chris' direction. Chris nods, and clears his throat. "Eh, yes, we did. Nice to see you again, Mr. Amoretto."

Vincenzo nods, but doesn't return it. He turns back to me. "It's funny how we keep running into each other, no?" he chuckles, his accent very evident.

I chuckle. "Yes, it is. We were just running some errands, and I think you're doing the same?" I ask him, gesturing to the little bag in his hands with some items in it. He was about to respond when we get interrupted by a feminine voice. 

"Vincenzo? I was starting to wonder where you were," a soft voice chuckles, and a tall, blonde woman appears from behind him. Beautiful, long golden hair cascades down her back. She has azure blue eyes and full, plump lips that are coated in red lipstick. She has incredibly long legs, and the red, expensive looking top she's wearing compliments her fair skin. 

She flutters her eyelashes up at Vincenzo and puts a hand on his arm when she smiles at him, showing off her pearly white teeth. "I lost you for a second, but you're here, with...?"

She turns to me and Chris, letting her eyes scan my body up and down before doing the same with Chris. "Nicole, this is Athena, the daughter of John, the old friend that came to visit me with his friends?"

"Oh!" Nicole says, and chuckles, but not genuine. "Right, you told me about that girl," she says, emphasizing the word girl while she glances at me from the corner of her eye.

Putting an arm around her waist, Vincenzo nods. In an instant, jealously ignites within me. I know it's bad of me to think it, but I want to be the one he has his arms around, I want to be the one who can make him laugh, I want to be the one who goes home with him to do God knows what. 

I swallow, and take a step back, bumping into Chris. He securely wraps his arms around my shoulder, and it calms me down. Compared to Nicole, I'm nothing, and I'm slightly worried that Nicole steals the eyes of Chris away from me. 

With my messy bun on top of my head, oversized shirt that keeps sliding of my shoulder that reveals a bra-strap and some skinny jeans with some black sneakers I'm really nothing compared to her.

She's right. I'm just a girl. Why would Vincenzo want someone like me if he can have someone like her? I'm inexperienced, immature and not even a fully developed adult yet.

Wanting to get away from the uncomfortable tension, I decide to speak up.

"Well, it was nice to see you, but we should go, right Chris?" I ask, and glance up at him over my shoulder. He smiles down at me, knowing that I want to get away and nods.

He leans down and pecks my cheek, my heart warming at the gesture.

"Yes, beautiful. You were explaining the difference of pads and tampons," he chuckles, and I blush, swatting his chest.

"Right, we'll get back later to that," I say and turn back to Vincenzo and Nicole, "I'll probably see you again some time, bye," I say, and Chris and I start walking in the opposite direction. Of course, Vincenzo would date someone like her. She's probably a model with that body of hers.

Vincenzo and that woman stay on my mind while we do the rest of our shopping, and while we're paying and when we get in the car.

Because I want to be in Nicole's place, knowing how selfish that may sound.

° ° °

"No mom! I always try to explain things to you but you never listen!" I yell at her angrily.

"Watch your tone, young lady! I'm your mother!" she yells back at me. I clench my fists.

"I wouldn't have to yell at you if you weren't being so difficult!" I spat back at her. "I'm not being difficult! You just have to learn that I always will know better than you!"

"That's where you are wrong! You don't always know best because look where that got you! You have to learn that..."

"Ladies!"

We both jump up and look at our side where dad stands in the doorway with his arms crossed, a frown placed above his eyes.

"Why are my two favorite girls in the world fighting?"

Mom and I both point to one another. "It's her fault," we both say.

Dad suppresses a laugh and nods. "Right, Athena, why don't you go upstairs and calm down?"

I can't believe him. "Calm down? She is the one who should calm down!" I say, raising my voice and looking at her with anger in my eyes. "Watch it, Athena Elena Robertson. I'm your mother," mom hisses, with fury in her eyes.

"Go to your room! Right now!" she yells at me and points to the staircase.

"I can't believe you," I mutter and stomp upstairs, slamming the door extra hard behind me to make my point.

Our little argument turned into a huge fight between us, for something so small. I feel the urge to punch something to let out my anger.

I want to scream, yell, punch and kick something. I want to go away, be alone in peace.

But then I remember Vincenzo's words.

You can always come and visit me if you want some time alone to read.

Should I...?

I mean, he's the one who suggested it. So... technically it would be no problem.

You know what, I'm going over to his house.

I look down to my jeans and white shirt, and shrug.

Good enough.

I yank the door open, and slam it back closed, letting them know that I'm still angry. I stomp downstairs and see my parents in the living room.

"Where do you think you're going?" mom asks me when I grab the car keys from the table.

Ignoring her, I make my way to the hallway.

"Athena, where are you going?" dad asks. "Out," I reply curtly.

"You can't just leave, young lady! Hey, I'm talking to you! It's going to storm today, you shouldn't go out, it's dangerous!" mom calls after me.

"Like you care," I snarl and open the door. "I do care! I'm your mother. It's dangerous on the streets," she yells, but I slam the door closed right in front of her nose, and open the car. I get in the car and start it, ignoring dad who's calling me to come back in.

I start the car and drive away. Right now I don't want to think about mom.

She... she... ugh! Why must she be so difficult? She has to learn the definition of privacy.

It's actually really idiotic why we got into a fight. She asked me how I was, and when I said fine she said that I was lying and that I never tell her the truth.

I face palm myself. I always tell her the truth, and when I said that she got angry at me, saying that I should open up more. I roll my eyes and concentrate on driving. I notice the rain drops that are falling from the sky, wetting the car.

Mom was right. It was going to rain. But that's not going to stop me from going to Vincenzo's.

No way that I'm going back home, I don't want to see her face right now.

After a couple of minutes, the rain starts falling harder from the sky, blocking my sight of the road.

Just keep driving.

With a lot of work, I know how to make my way to Vincenzo's house, and not even 10 minutes later I pull over and stand on his porch.

I narrow my eyes and look to his house which I can barely see because of the rain, but I manage to see the lights outside his house, shining brightly.

Just go over and ring the bell. He's not going to bite your head off.

Don't overthink this. Grabbing my belongings, I carefully open the car door and step out. Within 10 seconds I'm drenched to the bone, my clothes are soaked and my hair is sticking to my face.

Can I show up like this now? What is he going to think about me? Maybe Nicole is here...

What if they're doing—

Just go already!

I walk over to his house, cringing at the raindrops that fall harshly on my face. Wiping my hair from my face, I ring the bell, and wait patiently for him to open the door.

If he's home.

Fiddling with my hands in front of me, I start wondering if I would just run back to my car and run away.

This is such a stupid idea. Right when I'm about to turn away and go back home, the door opens and a frowning Vincenzo appears behind the door.

"Hi," I say with a sheepish smile and wave at him.

You're so stupid.

"Athena! Come inside! You must be freezing," he says and opens the door more. Quietly, I step inside his house and it's then I see that Vincenzo's wearing just some sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt. Even in that he can make any woman melt down. "What are you doing here?" he asks me.

I didn't think about what I should say when he asked me that.

"I uh... I remembered that you told me that I could come over any time to read or when I wanted to be alone, so here I am. I didn't know that it would storm, if I knew I wouldn't have come," I say and look at the ground.

"I hope you don't mind. I'm sorry for just showing up. I can leave if you want to? Or if you have company," I mutter and don't dare to look at his piercing gaze.

"Dolcezza, it's no problem. I was actually bored and am glad to have some company. Don't leave."

It sounds like a command, and without thinking I nod, not wanting to disappoint him. I look up at him and see him looking down at me, and notice how close we're standing right now.

"Would you like some fresh clothes?" he asks and cocks his head to the side, motioning to my soaked clothes. "If you don't mind," I say, hating how shy I sound. 

"Buono, come with me, I'll give you some clothes. They're mine, is that a problem?" he asks and tilts his eyebrows. I shake my head. 

"No problem," I say and follow him. He leads me up the stairs, and with wide eyes I look around. Everything is so... shiny. I don't dare to touch anything, afraid that it might break. The floor is black, almost blinding me and there are huge mirrors in the hallway, framed with gold.

How rich is he?

Someone clears their throat, and I look up, meeting a pair of dark eyes that bore right into my green ones.

"What?" I ask him, with wide eyes. The heat rises to my cheeks, because he caught me staring at his house.

"We're at the bathroom," he chuckles amused. "Oh," I say and nod.

He opens the door and lets me in. "I'll just drop some clothes and be out of here. I'll wait outside for you," he says and walks away, probably getting some clean clothes. The bathtub is made from marble, and there's a huge showers-stall in the corner of the room, with glass walls and a bench.

There are two sinks, also made of marble and with a toilet beside them.

Vincenzo walks back in, with a black T-shirt in his hands and a couple of boxers.

"This is all I can offer," he says and hands them over to me.

"It's okay. They're decent," I joke and take the clothes over from him. He chuckles, turns away and walks out of the bathroom. 

"If you need anything just call me, and there are towels under the sink so you can take one any time," he says and closes the door behind him. With a sigh, I strip off my clothes, which is a hard job because they're sticking to my skin. I look under the sink and find towels.

"Bingo," I whisper to myself and dry myself off, to put Vincenzo's clothes on.

His smell surrounds me, and I inhale deeply, stuffing my nose in his shirt. I throw a glance at myself in the mirror, and cringe.

Vincenzo saw me like this? My hair is all over my face and my nose is red. I pull my hair up in a bun, not caring how I look right now and open the door, to find Vincenzo leaning against the wall, looking at me. His eyes scan my body and he swallows, but doesn't say anything.

"Alright, let's go downstairs," he says, his voice suddenly husky. I nod, and together we walk downstairs. His clothes are comfortable and smell amazing, and I hope he doesn't notice how I keep sniffing at his shirt.

We walk into the living room, where those big bookshelves meet my eye.

"It's a beautiful sight," I whisper and look at them. He chuckles. "It is," he says.

Suddenly my phone rings, disturbing the calm moment. I look at Vincenzo apologetically and pick up without looking at the caller.

"Hello?"

"Athena! You had me so worried! Where are you?" dad's voice asks.

"Dad... I'm fine-- everything was okay while I was driving-- no, I didn't have an accident-- yes... but--"

"And the roads are closed!" he says. I freeze. "What? Can't I come home?" I ask with a frown. Vincenzo turns to me, listening to what I'm saying. "You needed to be so stubborn and ran off, and now the roads are closed. You have to stay the night at wherever you are. Where are you, by the way?" dad asks.

I normally don't lie to my parents, never actually. But I don't want dad to know that I'm staying the night at his old friend's house.

"I'm at... Lucy's," I lie and look up to Vincenzo, to see him frowning down at me.

"Alright, I hope she doesn't mind you staying the night there. I have to go, tell Lucy I said hi."

And with that he hangs up, without saying goodbye. Is he also pissed at me?

Just great. "What did he say?" Vincenzo asks. "The roads are closed because of the storm. I'm sorry, but I have to stay the night," I say and look up to him, not knowing if he's going to be annoyed because he has to take care of me.

"It's no problem, bella," he assures me. Why do I like it so much when he calls me names in Italian?

I smile up at him. "Be my guest, take a seat, read or grab yourself a cup of coffee. I'll be in my study, if you need something don't hesitate to come to me," he says, and with a brief wink he disappears and walks away.

I turn back to the books, and an evil smirk creeps up my face.

Those books are going to suffer.

° ° °

I'm reading in the book that I've chosen, and I'm almost done reading it, when suddenly my stomach growls.

I'm hungry.

Should I just ignore it and wait till Vincenzo comes asking if I'm hungry? Or should I just ask him if I can make something?

The latter won. I stand up and place my book on the couch where I'm sitting on, and walk towards the hallway.

Where is his study?

I wander a bit in the house, trying to find him but to no avail.

"Athena?"

I turn around wide-eyed, and see Vincenzo standing behind me with raised eyebrows.

"Hey! I was searching for your study but couldn't find it," I explain quickly.

"Uh-uh," he says amused. I swallow. "It's true. I was wondering if you were hungry or not, because I could cook something?" I suggest and raise my eyebrows questioningly. He shows a tiny smile, and I almost faint. Those pearly whites are killing me. My throat suddenly becomes dry.

"Alright," I manage to bring out. "What would you like to eat?" I ask him.

He smirks.

God, please have mercy on me.

"Spaghetti," he says with a mysterious glint in the eyes. "O-okay, but I warn you, my spaghetti isn't the best," I say with a sheepish smile. "I don't care," he whispers.

Breathe.

"Come, I'll lead you to the kitchen," he says and we both starting walking.

On the way to the kitchen it's silent, but it doesn't bother me. It's a nice silence.

The kitchen is beautiful. It has a kitchen island made of marble and there's a lot of space to move around. The fridge is huge with two gigantic doors and there are two sinks besides the large stove.

"This is amazing," I whisper, mostly to myself. He chuckles.

"Feel free to use anything you want. You don't have to ask me. Normally Miranda would've cooked something but she needed some time off, even she didn't want to admit it," he says and rakes a hand through his hair.

My fingers are itching to do that. "Miranda is the woman who served us the other night?" I ask him and he nods. "Yes, a wonderful woman," he says with a warm smile. His smile is beautiful.

I catch myself staring at his plump lips, and force my gaze up to his eyes.

"I'll be here then," I say. He nods. "Alright, I'll be back in a couple of minutes," he says and turns away, walking out of the kitchen. I turn around and face the kitchen.

This is heaven.

I walk over to the fridge and pull it open. All kinds of ingredients meet my eye, and I almost squeal like a five-year-old. This is amazing!

I take out all the ingredients I need, look into the shelves for pasta and for a cooking pot. I put the pasta in the pot and start on the sauce.

Once I've set it all up, I start cutting the vegetables.

I pull out a knife from a shelf and start cutting the tomatoes into blocks.

Once I'm done with that, I cut the garlic into little pieces before I add it to the red sauce.

Then I start with the bellpepper. I cut it in a half but struggle with taking the seeds out. Groaning, I start a fight with the bellpepper, and all the seeds fly around in the air and in my hair. Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me, and I can feel Vincenzo's warmth radiating off of him.

"Need some help with that?" Vincenzo asks from behind me. His smell is suffocating me, but I love it. I nod, not able to speak.

I hear a soft chuckle, before two arms appear from behind me and grab my hands. His rough fingers wrap around mine, and he steps closer to me. His chest presses against my back, and I feel a hot breath on my neck that causes goosebumps to rise. He has me trapped between his arms, and I feel like I can't escape his hold.

I almost choke on my own saliva and watch how Vincenzo cuts the paprika with my hands. It's a deafening silence, and the only sound is my ragged breathing and the sound of the knife colliding with the wood where he's cutting the paprika on. This is so intimate, and wrong.

We shouldn't stand like this. And why am I clenching my thighs together?

"Non vedo l'ora di posare sotto di me, gridando il mio nome a piacere," he whispers in my ear. His breath is fanning my ear, and tickles my neck.

He's so hot when he speaks Italian, even though I have no idea what he's talking about. I have the urge to whimper when his warmth leaves.

Suddenly I'm cold, and Vincenzo moves away from me. "T-thank y-you," I stutter and with red cheeks, I look back down, to see that he cut the paprika into thin slices.

I add them to the sauce and add some salt and pepper.

After a couple of more minutes the pasta is ready and the sauce is also ready to be served. I turn around and see Vincenzo entering the kitchen.

"Food is ready," I say and motion to the stove.

He nods. "I'll grab the plates," he says and walks towards the cupboards.

I swallow and nod. He sets the table and I place the food on it.

"I hope you'll like it," I mutter and take a seat. "From the smell of it, I'm sure I'll like it," he says with a tiny grin.

And then we start eating, and I'm surprised to find out that it doesn't taste that bad.

I look up and find Vincenzo's eyes on me. He smirks before he looks down and continues eating.

Mentally, I sigh deeply.

This is going to be a long night.

. . .

The spaghetti recipe got a lot of hate on my previous book. For the life of me, I don't know how to cook so sorry if it sucks. Also, I know the translation is wrong but it's all Google Translate, I swear. 

Hope you enjoyed this chapter!