14| red

ELIJAH

I don't know if there was something in the food or what, but I was suddenly feeling sick to my stomach as both my mom and sister began talking about boys and finding suitors. I reached for the drink on the table, a refreshing glass of lemonade with a hint of mint, and gulped it down quickly, feeling the cool liquid slide down my throat and momentarily distract me from the discomfort in my stomach. I set the glass down with a thud, growing agitated by the turn of conversation.

"Just what I need," I thought to myself, "a bunch of arranged dates and awkward encounters." I rolled my eyes, trying to appear nonchalant, but my mom and sister were too caught up in their excitement to notice my discomfort.

"Oh, Nadia, you'll love him!" my sister gushed, "He's tall, dark, and handsome, and he comes from a great family!"

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "That sounds like a real Prince Charming," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

But my mom and sister just laughed, undeterred. "You'll see, dear," my mom said, patting my hand. "We'll find you someone who will make your heart skip a beat."

I sighed, feeling like I was in for a long night of listening to their matchmaking schemes. But just then, Elijah spoke up, his voice low and smooth. "I think Nadia can handle her own love life, don't you?" he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

I felt a surge of gratitude towards him, and my mom and sister looked taken aback, but then they just laughed and continued their conversation, undeterred. I shook my head, smiling wryly to myself. It was going to be a long night.

Elijah's father, Mr. Thompson, leaned in, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Elijah, my boy, remember, women love a man who is confident and composed. They can't resist a man who knows how to keep his cool, no matter the situation."

I looked at him. "I didn't ask for your advice and neither do I need it. Besides, you of all people shouldn't be giving advice," I said, gesturing to my mother. "I wasn't aware that you finally became a father,"

With that, I got up from my seat, walked over to the other side of the table where they were chatting, and interrupted their conversation. "Mom, it's getting late. We have school tomorrow and Nadia needs to get home," I said, trying to sound as polite as possible. Vicky rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Don't be such a party pooper, just a little longer?" she asked, but I shook my head. "It's okay, I'll be leaving," Nadia said, smiling warmly. "I had a really good time. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Maria," she added, and they exchanged hugs and air kisses.

By the time I had reached the car, Nadia was only just coming out of the house, her smile still plastered on her face. She was wearing a beautiful yellow dress that complemented her skin tone perfectly, and she pulled the material closer to her body as she made her way towards me, likely due to the chilly evening air. I turned up the heater in the car as I watched her approach, and once she reached the passenger side, I unlocked the door from the front. She uttered a small thank you as she jumped in, her eyes sparkling with gratitude.

"So, where to?" I asked, trying to sound casual, and she looked at me quizzically. "What do you mean? I'm going home, aren't I?" she replied, her brow furrowed in confusion. I chuckled. "That's all clear, but you didn't give me your address," I pointed out, and I could see the realization dawn on her face as she blinked twice, a habit I had noticed she did quite often.

As we drove through the quiet streets, I decided to break the silence. "So how was  the conversation between you and my mom?" I asked, the words leaving my mouth before I could even think - which usually doesn't happen.

She laughed. "It was interesting. I never pictured you to be the type of guy who's interested in that sort of thing," she admitted, and I shook my head, I was not. She was right.

I didn't even know why I asked in the first place.

"I'm not," I confessed. "But my mom doesn't have the best experience with men, so..." I trailed off, not wanting to elaborate further.

"So Elijah Grey is looking out for me?" I inhaled and made a face. "That's not what I meant,"

"Obviously,  it was just a joke."

Nadia looked at me curiously. "How come you say that though? Your mom is super bubbly and gorgeous, and Vicky, well, doesn't care for love at the moment. She believes there's more to life than just finding a guy," she said, and I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that's true. But my mom has been through a lot, and I guess she wants to see me settled down with someone nice." I shrugged, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the conversation.

Nadia nodded thoughtfully. "I can understand that. But I have to admit, I wasn't so keen on the idea at first. I mean, I've never really talked about boys and relationships before, so it was all a bit new to me," she confessed, her cheeks flushing slightly.

She hadn't? Not even once in her life?

Nadia smiled, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "They're lovely. Your mom is so warm and welcoming, and Vicky is hilarious. How come you didn't inherit all of those traits?" she asked, looking over at me with a playful glint in her eye.

I swear on my whole life, I didn't mean to let out a chuckle. It just escaped my lips before I could catch it. And to my surprise, Nadia's eyes widened slightly in shock, a glimmer of amusement dancing in their depths.

It was like she was delighted to have gotten a rise out of me, and I found myself wanting to laugh again, just to see that spark in her eyes again.

But I forced myself to look away, focusing on the road ahead of me with one hand on the steering wheel. Her words still lingered in the air, and I could feel her gaze on me, waiting for a response.

"Not everyone wants to be the life of the party, Nadia," I said finally, my voice low and even. "Some of us are happy just observing from the sidelines, taking it all in."

I glanced over at her, and she was no longer looking at me, instead her eyes searching for something. "But that doesn't mean we're not paying attention," I added, my lips curling up in a small smile. "We're just biding our time, waiting for the right moment to speak up."

Nadia's eyes never left mine, and I could sense her trying to read me, to figure out what made me tick. And in that moment, she could but I wouldn't let her.

We finally pulled up to her house. She unbuckled her seat belt and right as I expected her to jump out, she looked over to me, her eyes flickering over to my neck where I'm pretty sure my tattoo was showing.

Again, she did that thing of blinking twice.

"Thanks for driving me home," Nadia said, her voice soft and gentle, as she reached for the door handle. It was like she was waiting for me to say something, to acknowledge her gratitude, before she made her way out of the car.

As she stepped out onto the pavement, she said something else, but her words were lost in the night air, muffled by the rolled-up window. I leaned over and rolled it down, my eyes locking onto hers. "Did you say something?" I asked, my brow furrowed in curiosity.

Nadia rolled her eyes, a playful glint in their depths, and placed her hands on her hips. For a split second, she looked just like her.

I quickly pushed the image out of my head, not wanting to go down that road.

"I said you should smile more," she replied, her voice laced with a hint of mischief. "It looks way better on you." I shook my head, a chuckle escaping my lips. "Not a chance, Evans. You can dream about it," I teased.

But then she said something I didn't expect, something that caught me off guard. "I guess I will," she said, her eyes sparkling with a hint of determination, before turning and walking back into her house.

I watched as she disappeared into the darkness, my mind racing with thoughts and emotions I couldn't quite process. I averted my gaze, not wanting to be caught staring, and drove off into the night, the memory of her words lingering in my mind like a ghost.

We were inseparable, two souls bound together by a friendship that seemed unbreakable. We thought nothing could ever come between us, that our bond was strong enough to withstand anything life threw our way. But our naivety was a cruel mistress, hiding the harsh realities of growing up and the burdens that came with it.

I was too young to understand the weight of my family's legacy, the crushing responsibility of being part of a mafia that would one day be mine to bear. I didn't know that I'd be forced to sacrifice my childhood, that Vincent would use my mom and sister as leverage to keep me in line. I was too young to know that my life would never truly be mine own.

But despite all of this, she was always there, a constant presence in my life. She came to my house every day, and we'd spend hours laughing, talking, and dreaming together. We were so close, yet she never once told me her name. It was as if our parents' connection was enough, a secret understanding that only they shared.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments when my mind wandered, I'd imagine talking to her again, wishing I still had her by my side. She was my best friend, the one person who truly got me, and I'd give anything to have that back. I longed for someone who understood me like she did, someone who could see past the facade and into the depths of my soul.

As I lay on my bed, surrounded by the shadows of my past, I couldn't help but reminisce one last time. I knew that soon, my life would no longer be mine to control, that the weight of my family's legacy would crush me beneath its heel. So I closed my eyes, letting the memories wash over me, and dreamed of her, like I always did.