#i need to write the fic where Tesoro gets told to give him it. its a fucking mess

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

The thing that gets Muro to eventually stick to quitting smoking is when Rametta starts stress smoking and hes like. i gotta fucking manage it for real this time, and after a few tries he does

[Cue Muro and Tesoro turning to very pointedly look at Conficcare and his alcohol intake and Conficcare regretting all the pointed how to stop smoking guides he put in the flat]

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

hi guys and gals! Part 7 sees friendship strengthened, decisions being made and love ultimately hurting. As always, please enjoy the next part and let me know what you think is going to happen in part eight! I actually love hearing from you all so please don't be too shy to reach out and message me - I love a good chat LOL Love always, Steph xx

Part 7 | settima parte

warnings; love sucks man. word count;  1850 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. next update; Monday 09/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)! Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

“bella amelia, cosa ho fatto per meritarmi questa telefonata?” (beautiful amelia, what did i do to deserve this phone call?) Jorginho spoke his second-native tongue down the line to the British girl, calling him way past her self-appointed bedtime of 9pm.

“Jorgi, ho bisogno del consiglio di un amico” (Jorgi, i need the advice of a friend). Amelia, almost desperately, pleaded down the line to the boy who became her therapist.

It had been a few days since Amelia & Jack’s facetime where they sat and listened to the countless offers the successful girl had waiting in her voice message inbox. Being the person that she is, Amelia needed to distract herself from obsessing over the messages so she threw herself into her job. Spending too many hours over her paid allocation at Juventus training ground, getting administrative work done for the season ahead.

Was this her way of nesting? Or empty-nesting? Was she subconsciously preparing the club and her boys for life without her? Getting them ready with a season's worth of set pieces and tactical plays that would secure them an outstanding 37th victory? On the flip side, was she preparing for her new role in England which she had yet to accept. There was no harm in her taking her intellectual property back over to the motherland. The two clubs did not compete in the same tournaments, perhaps only the Champions league - but who's to say that whatever club she does pick will make the Champions League? There was no doubt Juve would be there - all of her preparation would ensure they would be. Whoever took over her role simply just had to show up and keep the boys in line.

“ok tesoro, parlami.” (Ok darling, speak to me). The Italian settled onto his couch, espresso in hand, waiting to hear the younger girl's problem.

“So I've spoken with Kyle & Jack now, and have told them of my predicament. They both are very heavily favouring one side - but I need a voice of reason. If you happen to express the same sentiments that they both did, then maybe that's all of the reassurance I need to make this final decision.” Amelia switched back to her native tongue.

After spending the better part of an hour discussing in great depth the offers that she was receiving from the 5 english clubs, Amelia felt just as confused as she did before calling the Chelsea boy. No surprise that Jorgi was team Come to the Prem & Join Chelsea, but the italian midfield maestro had also brought her back down to earth from cloud nine and reminded her of what, or who, she was leaving behind.

“Now I don't like telling you what to do, but you need to discuss this with Fede, Amelia. He doesn’t deserve a lot of things, but this is something he does.”

So that's where Amelia found herself the next morning. Sunday’s in Italy were reserved for espresso and long walks in the sun. This particular Sunday must have been reflective of the internal turmoil she was facing, uncommon for the season, the sky above her was overcast and a light drizzle had started to set in on her walk to the charming Italian’s townhouse.

______________________________________________________________

“pensavo fosse un mito che gli inglesi portino con sé il tempo the” (i thought it was a myth that british people bring the weather with them) Fede said as he opened the door, and his arms, while looking down the two steps at me.

“Very funny” I said as I gave him a hug. He always was so good at hugs. I’m going to miss them. Snap out of it Amelia - you don’t even know if you’re going to go yet. Oh she knows she's going. She also knows what club she's going to. No she doesn't, you be quiet. I’m here rooting for her Italian romance. If I had an angel and devil on each shoulder, their conversation would speak my internal monologue as such.

Walking through to his kitchen, putting on a coffee and saying hello to his dogs, Fede stood in the doorway and watched me move around his kitchen as though it was my own.

“I’m convinced you got British bulldogs because you just can’t help but love the English” I cheekily smiled up at him from my crouched position in the middle of his kitchen, giving the two bullys the best head rubs.

“Sure, you keep thinking that Amelia” Oh, the way he says your name Amelia, so foreign, so romantic. He says it the same way any other Italian would say it, he’s nothing special. Be quiet, let them have their moment.

“Lets go and enjoy these out in the courtyard, is your sun shade still up? It should hold out the rain right?” Amelia spoke rushedly as she poured two espresso cups and walked towards his back door.

“Tesoro, why are you so unsteady today? Is something troubling you?” Fede spoke worriedly, noticing my little nervous habits coming out to play and speaking faster than my mind could comprehend. Better to just get this over with i think, for once we agree on something.

“Ok i need to tell you something, and i need you to let me get it all out before interrupting me. Can you do that? This is something i’ve been working up the courage to speak out loud, let alone speak it to you”

Fede took a sip of his espresso, holding my eye contact, before putting his cup back on its saucer and leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He thought he was ready for what i was about to say, expecting it to be yet another long winded speech as to why i want to put a label on our situationship. Oh boy, how wrong he was.

“After the success of the european tournament, i have received a lot of praise and recognition for my skills”

“And you deserve every bit of it amore, every bit and even more” Oh dear, could my heart hurt anymore?

“Fede, I asked you not to interrupt me…”

“Ok ok, sorry, continue”

“So, I have received a lot of recognition both here in Italy as well as from my home country of England. In saying that, I have received a few offers from clubs in the premier league that want me to bring my approach, the italian approach, to the english game. It's a real step up in my career and it's something I am seriously considering. I’ve spoken with some of the boys back home and also Jorgi, they all think that this is the next step for me. I’m far too comfortable here, I can't grow in my comfort zone. I think I'm ready for a new challenge.”

I held eye contact with the 27 year old, I wasn’t about to let him know just how vulnerable I was feeling here in front of him. Something Fede could always do was read me, and read my emotions. If he knew how exposed I felt, how easily I could be swayed over this decision, then he would make it his life's mission to do so. I had made my mind up that I was going, but there was also a part of me that decided if he was to give me what I was after I would be open to the possibility of staying.

“So it seems that you have asked for the opinion of everyone else in your life, and made your decision, before even considering mine.” He slumped back in his chair, and rubbed two fingers over his lips while looking off into the small courtyard garden.

“Fede, I have made my decision. But I wanted to talk to you about it, I owe that to you. You have made my time here so memorable, so fantastic, so filled with love that I wouldn't even consider not including you in this.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay? Do you want me to ask you to be my girlfriend? To tell you I love you? To move in with me? Let me know what you need from me to reconsider this decision” He began to get frustrated with me, pulling the cap off of his head and running his fingers through his hair.

“That’s exactly it Fede! I don’t want to ask you to do that, you should ask me to be your girlfriend on your own! I don't want you to tell me you love me if you think that's what I want to hear - I want you to feel like you love me! I don’t need anyone to tell me what I want to hear, what I want to hear is what you truly feel. And if there is something i have learnt about you in the last few years is that you can’t hold back your feelings with anything! If you were in love with me it would have burst from you a long time ago. I think that you do love me Fede, but as someone to come home to instead of no one at all.”

“You know Fede, i don’t have any regrets over this. You mean just as much to me now as you did the very first time we crossed that boundary and blurred the lines. You’re just my type, you only call me late at night, you can’t decide if you’ll be your own man or mine. I hate to say it, but you really are just my type. This decision has nothing to do with you, it’s something i have come to make all on my own.”

I had stood up now, looking down at the 27 year old. I needed him to understand exactly what I was saying, how serious I was. This was the moment I could get it all off my chest, instead of just letting the relationship play out on his terms.

“I leave on Friday, I let the club know this morning. There's nothing that can be done now Fede, this is my decision. Please respect it, and me”

He stood up, his almost 6’1” frame towering over me. Looking down, face of steel, I could see everything I needed behind his eyes.

“hai ragione ti amo Solo non nel modo in cui meriti di essere amato” (you're right, i do love you. Just not in the way you deserve to be loved). He pulled me into his chest, both arms wrapping around the back of my shoulders, left hand holding my head in the crook of his neck. My arms wrapped around his back from below his arms, holding him tight enough that they crossed over and I could grab the sides of his rib cage. This was the closure I needed.

“I’ll give Jorginho a call and make sure he looks out for you”

“How do you know what club I'm going to?”

“I saw the way your eyes sparkled when you mentioned its name, it was the same sparkle that used to come out when you said mine…”

Part 8. | parte otto

[lovehotelreservation]

Hot for Teacher - Say What Now? (1/5) [Rework]

Pairing: Reader/Adult!Reborn

Rating: R

HELLO EVERYONE!!! I found myself in a bit of a nostalgia trip after some dear cherished darlings of mine told me how they recalled my works back from my Luna days. And while I have been playing with this concept for a while, I thought it would be fun to at last give my hand at doing a rework of “Hot for Teacher,” one of my most well-known series of my earlier works!

Now, mind you this piece was written during my Junior year of high-school, which was reflected A GREAT DEAL in this fic, and thus in this rework, things have been tweaked considerably, as you shall see~

I’ve been wanting to do some kind of compare/contrast sort of thing with my writing for quite some time, and yesterday’s revelations inspired me to go ahead and do so! That said, I found it best to go through the chapter line by line and offering my new ~modern~ take on my old work!

As for whether I’ll continue on with another rework, I’m not quite sure at this point, but I thought to leave the possibility open, as you can see from the title. With all that said, I hope you all enjoy this nostalgia trip with me!

*Warning: the original referenced work depicts a student/teacher relationship in a high school setting

Summary: You: The naive schoolgirl that gives Tohru Honda a run for her money. Teachers: The most GQ mother*bleep*as that the world has to offer. Go. Various/Reader

Summary: While there never seems to be a dull day at Arcobaleno University, the usual shenanigans at campus amplifies to a great intensity once you have all the school’s equally absurd yet gorgeous professors rivaling one another for your heart. 

In the year of 2009, a young philosopher by the name of David asked the most important question of all time, "Is this real life?"

....Wait, sorry, Freddie Mercury asked first.

In the year of 2015, a Canadian enchantress by the name of Claire Elise Boucher declared, “Welcome to Realiti” whilst writhing rhythmically across various Asian countries on film.

Either way, the following question was repeated by the Italian teacher of Arcobaleno Academy. That teacher? Why, none other than Reborn. Now, why is he lacking a last name, you ask? Well, you se-

The words crossed through the thoughts of Arcobaleno University’s top professor for their Italian language courses, Reborn. A charismatic individual, one who exuded a dangerous yet seductive aura that carried himself in inviting mystery. 

"Say that again," Reborn ordered with a raised eyebrow, gazing down at you, obviously screwing the background information.

With one brow raised, the haziness in his half-lidded eyes furthered with lust as he demanded in a low, husky tone, “Say that again, amore.”

You leaned closer to him, whispering, "Baciami."

A deep, hot blush etched onto your face, you gathered up your courage to scoot a bit forward on his office desk surface to get closer to him. Your heart at an anxious flutter, you gazed right into his eyes as you whispered ever so sweetly, “Baciami.”

Yup...this was definitely real life and it was damn good!

Welcome to reality, indeed.

'Thank the lord for tenure,' Reborn thought, placing a hand behind your head, pulling you into a firm kiss. He hoisted you off of his desk, plopping you down on his lap, wrapping his arms around you. Goodness, how long had he waited to do this! His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, smiling when you parted your mouth.

Indulgence at its finest.

Was this opportunity to finally appease his hunger for you worth putting his career and reputation on the line?

Perhaps, but honestly, Reborn was far beyond the point of caring. If it meant either of you had to skip town to save face, then so be it. He’d be more than happy to take you along with him, with how long he harbored this ravenous desire for you.

You raked your fingers through his hair after you carefully removed his fedora. Wow, you never expected his hair to be so sof-

Moaning against his lips, you brought your fingers up towards his head. Though you were quickly getting swept up in the intensity of your professor’s kisses, you were mindful enough to carefully remove his cherished fedora. With his hair exposed, you didn’t wait to sate your curiosity and run your fingers through his black locks, the silky texture to each strand an absolute pleasure to touch.

You emitted an "Eep!" when you were suddenly laid on his desk, a grinning Reborn hovering over you, "Anything else, bella? I want to make sure your Italian well before my quiz tomorrow. And believe me, it won't be so easy."

However, you weren’t given the chance to fully appreciate his soft hair, as given that Reborn proceeded to press you down onto his desk. His lips parted from yours, his tongue poking out to run over them before he offered you a wickedly seductive grin. “Anything else I can do for you, tesoro mio? You know I like to be thorough in making sure that my students are prepared for my exams.”

One of his hands cupped your chin, the lightly calloused texture of his thumb running over your lips as he purred out, “After all, you know I can be merciless with my grading.”

Taking his hand, you placed it on the zipper of your uniform skirt, "Facciamo l'amore."

Modesty was a trait unknown to Reborn, as you observed during lectures and times you ran into him out of class. And yet, it was that same near arrogant confidence that made you so attracted to him, that made you be so daring as to take his hand and guide it towards your chest as you breathed out, “Facciamo l'amore.“

Not even missing a beat, he pulled the zipper down, muttering hotly against your ear, "Dimmi come lo vuoi."

Without a moment’s hesitation, Reborn squeezed your breasts, the soft sensation against his palm immediately inciting the dire need to tear off any piece of clothing that got in the way between your skin and his lips and fingers. His lips moved to your ear, hovering by as he hissed out,  "Dimmi come lo vuoi."

"Easy."

You shuddered from his touch, your thighs pressing together in anticipation for what was to come. In a meek little whimper, you pleaded, “E-Easy.”

He chuckled lowly, rolling his hips against your's roughly, "I don't think I can do that for you, amore."

Admiring your sweet innocent reaction, Reborn chuckled darkly under his breath, a predatory glint in his eyes as he teased, “But that wouldn’t be fair to the other students, now would it, amore mio? Though...” The hand on your chest proceeded to drag down towards your thighs, intent on spreading them wide apart so he may finally get to feast in-between them. “...if you beg sweetly enough, I wouldn’t mind being gentle with you~”

"Aww, but you've made your quizzes easier before!"

"What?"

“’Gentle?’ That’s...a strange way of putting things, professor.”

Reborn's eyes flew open, coming face to face with you, standing right in front of his desk, a pout on your lips. Realizing that he was back in real life rather than the extremely awesome fantasy, two things came to the mind of snazzily dressed teacher: One, he, for the oddest of reasons, was fantasizing like he was Skull (Note, never decide to mix wine and a cappuccino together in an attempt to relax and get some grading done at the same time) and two, he didn't have tenure.

Guess real life isn't that damn good after all.

It seemed uncharacteristic of Reborn to be taken aback with a jolt. However, upon snapping out of his lascivious reverie, he realized that while he was still in his office, you were standing before his desk, your expression puzzled by your professor’s odd remark.

Instead of having you sprawled and mewling upon his desk while he made you squirm and cry out with his touch, it dawned on him that you were here to attend his office hours.

Reality continued to disappoint him.

The bell rung, causing you to let out a shrill of despair, "Ah! That was the second bell! Ohh! Lal's gonna kill me! Eh, I'll talk to you later, Reborn!"

And so, you and your jailbait-y ass zoomed out of the classroom, leaving Reborn alone with just him, his prep period and his Italian Rage.

And it was then that the campus bell rung, signaling that beginning of a new hour. Considering the timing of his afternoon hours, your body tensed as you squawked out, “On second thought, maybe I’ll just email you about tomorrow’s exam later, professor! I need to hurry to the baseball field before Coach Lal demolishes my attendance grade!”

Bidding your professor farewell, your legally able to consume alcoholic beverages in the United States of America self took off, thus leaving Reborn to recline in his sexually frustrated solitude.

And who caused such rage?

Nobody nobody one else but you.

Well, you caused it indirectly at least. Of all the three years you had attended the academy, Reborn was drawn to the conclusion that you, (Full Name),

Were.

Just.

Too.

Damn.

Innocent.

At first he let out a snort, followed by a humorless chuckle as he pressed a hand over his face. How ever did he--having led a life of romantic flings with absolutely no intention to ever settle down--get to this point where all he wanted was to claim you for himself? Of all the people he could possibly and helplessly fall for, it was the most innocent person in the world, and his student no less.

There you were, always never picking up on the innuendos or any of the double entendre he and some others would drop, believing that all was simply sunshine and sugar. Honestly, he could spend hours giving examples of such purity bu-

Any of the boys who attempted to woo you over failed if just because you were naive to their advances, double entendres flying over your head while blatant displays of vulgarity left you so adorably flustered. Truly, he would never tire witnessing your display of innocence whenever you were face to face with something naughty, which, made him conflicted between shielding you from such things to dirtying and desecrating you himself.

Suddenly, his teeth clenched while his pants began to feel constricting yet again.

Just how much of an effect did you have for him to be reacting in such an embarrassingly immature way?

Still, knowing this was a matter that had to be handled before his next class, Reborn rose from his desk, preparing to lock his office door.

But not before moving towards the nearby window to close it shut, having opened it earlier to allow in some fresh air.

Though, considering that his office did have a splendid view towards the grand expanse of Arcobaleno University’s many recreational areas such as its garden and baseball field, he peered below to where the latter of the two was, his eyes quick to seek you out.

He smiled at the sight of you dressed for yet another vigorous session of baseball with Lal--the main coach for a variety of Arcobaleno Unverisity’s sports teams and classes--his lips immediately became thin at the familiar boorish bellow of the other physical education instructor on campus.

"Lal's not here today because of a teacher's convention, so we're going to have a joint P.E. class today, hey! We're going to start with some baseball; boys vs. girls! (Your Name), you're coming with me, hey! Lal's been telling me your swing is way off!"

“Hey, as Lal emailed you all earlier, we’re having a joint class today since her flight back from that Crossfit conference got delayed! I’ve been told the lot of you have been slacking off with your running, so you’re gonna be practicing those sprints of yours on the double! Every single person here is running across the entire expanse of campus grounds starting...now!”

The mixed groans and whines of despaired students filled the air as they reluctantly adhered to the demands of the notoriously merciless but jovial Coach Colonello, who was grinning broadly as he watched the two classes take off.

As Reborn watched you prepare to join the rest of your fellow classmates, he heard Colonello call out your name, watching as the blonde jogged up towards you effortlessly to rest a hand upon your shoulder. He noted the sweet, questioning look on your face as you faced the coach, whose typically obnoxiously loud voice was kept to a near unsettling low level as he murmured something to you.

While Colonello’s voice was quiet, his actions were not, as he proceeded to gesture some bat swinging, his expression looking to be eager as he pointed between the two of you before motioning to the batting cages.

With the rest of the class slogging their way through their instructed sprint, this would leave just you and Colonello alone.

Together.

Reborn's hand curled into a fist once hearing his rival's voice from outside. He stood up and straightened his tie, proceeding to walk out of his classroom.

Trouble was afoot.

Reborn’s eyes narrowed just before his window was sent flying down shut with monstrous force yet smooth fluidity. However, there was no time to waste as he made his way out of his office in quick strides, while smoothing out the front of tailored black suit, his charming aura now tinged with aggravation.

If there was anyone not welcome to his reality, it was Colonello.

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

Life is beautiful and life is cruel. This is a window into the souls of the victorious and the vanquished. In a way, football did come home during the summer of 2021. Follow along Amelia’s journey, navigating the football world as a tactical analyst for the Italian football team, with a brother and father part of the three lions. Will Amelia leave Italy and come back to England? Will she leave the Serie A for the Prem? Will she set aside the bianconeri stripes for new colours, leaving behind friendship for love? Maybe she can have both...

hey girlypops! here is part 5!!! thanks for the feedback on the last part - i've gone back through and edited slight bits to make it more straightforward who her brother is and who it isn't. Nothing has been changed to the story line so no need to go back and re-read (unless you want to lol love yas). Part 5 is a whole lot of fun! As the warning suggests, you can expect a few too many drinks, some heavy flirty & a very smug italian.

Love always, Steph xx

Part 5. | parte quinta

warnings; a few too many drinks, heavy flirting and a smug italian.

word count; 1704

writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter.

next update; Wed 04/08 5pm AEST. Updates are three times/week (Monday, Wednesday & Friday)!

Tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven

link to fic masterlist here

Day rolls into night, which rolls into the next day and before she knew it Amelia had been under the Mykonos sun for 5 days. Her brother and his teammates, who she should now probably refer to as her friends as well, did nothing but welcome her into their group with open arms and tried to include her in every activity they were doing. Most times she declined their invitation, opting to just relax on her own. She was very comfortable with her own company, she never felt like she needed another person to be able to exist. It was something she was proud of.

No doubt there were times she often missed companionship. She had her fair share of flings that gave her what kind of satisfaction she needed at the time, but she never felt like she needed someone else’s air to be able to breathe. This Mykonos trip, however, reminded her of how much she was beginning to miss her players. They had a group chat, La Cosa Nostra, which was probably a pretty poor group chat name but she was inducted into the already established group when she became close with some of the players & besides it was just Our Thing.

She missed the gentle bullying that she received on the daily from the serie a superstars, and also missed dishing it out to them so that they could keep their feet on the ground and their heads out of the clouds. Laying on her bed in a towel, after a nice shower, she contemplated taking up her brother’s offer from earlier in the evening. Does she go out and meet him and their mates at the club? Why not?

Getting up off her bed, she put on some makeup for the first time in a few days, making her feel somewhat human again, blow dried her freshly washed hair and put on her favourite Camilla bikini, covered up by a white slightly-sheer and flowy mini dress. Putting on her white sneakers and grabbing her cross body bag, comfort was the theme of tonight, and also because she wasn't in the mood to break her ankle on the grecian cobblestones.

Walking to the club that her brother had messaged her the name of, she noticed a ridiculously long line to get in which was honestly long enough for her to consider just going home, but she had committed to the plans & her brother was already expecting her - plus she had already put on her mascara and she was not wasting it. Approaching the line she went to join the back when her arm caught that of someone else walking past her.

_____________________________________________________________

“Sembra che tu non riesca a starmi lontano, vero?” (you can't seem to stay away from me, can you?) Looking up, I had linked arms with my midfield maestro, Jorginho. Who was smiling down at me with the cheeky grin that told me he saw me coming and couldn't help himself.

“Ciao! Come sei stato? Che sorpresa incontrati qui!” (Hi! How have you been? What a surprise running into you here!) I begin to say to him as I kiss both his cheeks in greeting.

“I’ve been good, enjoying time off as a double champion” He joked with me. He was right, he was a double champion and no one could take that away from him.

“Bella Amelia, this is Thiago. I play with him at Chelsea, which I'm sure you already knew. Thiago, this is the brains behind the organisation, Amelia” Jorginho introduced me to his Chelsea counterpart, which he was correct about - i did already know exactly who he was.

“Are you guys coming into Tropicana? I’m meeting up with my brother and his mates - some of them play with you guys at Chelsea. You should join us!” It took very little convincing for the two footballers, who looked like they were a couple hours into their long night, to join me in the club.

Unsurprisingly, we got let into Tropicana quite quickly. I’m sure it had nothing to do with the two mega famous and ridiculously good looking footballers I had looped around each of my arms. Walking through the club, the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka wafting around me, I managed to find the british players.

“Now now boys, no bad blood here! I know you all managed to get over my Italian affiliation so don’t hold it against my boy Jorgi here!” I address the group jokingly, as I wrap my right arm around his neck and he wraps his left around my waist.

Of course the Chelsea boys welcome him with open arms, they’ve known both Thiago and Jorgi longer than they’ve known me. The other boys offer their hellos before continuing to dance and drink with their mates. I say hi to everyone, give a big hug to my brother and Kyle (my chosen brother) before I'm wrapped into another hug I wasn't expecting.

“I’ve got to admit, you give a good hug” I say as I whisper into his ear.

“You’re a pretty easy person to hug, Mils”

“Always a smooth talker you are, Jack”

We parted and I grabbed myself a drink before spending the night dancing on top of the table with the girlfriends of the boys that I had only just been introduced to. Bonding over the fact that I was desperate for some female companionship, and also that I was the only single girl in the group, leading to the conclusion that they needed to be my wingwoman...all of them.

The night thereafter was spent finding suitable prospects for my whirlwind night of fun and romance, which I insisted wasn't necessary but also couldn't help but admit that it excited me just a little. It had been a while since I was close with a guy in that sense, and to be honest, the tequila shots that the girls had me doing was loosening me up in more ways than one.

Feeling the need for a break and some fresh air, I grabbed my purse and walked outside to sit along the retaining wall. We had reached that part of the evening where there was no chance I wasn't going to be allowed back into the club - the bouncers and security guards becoming more relaxed and carefree as it neared the time that the sun would reappear. Without thinking twice, I asked for a cigarette from some guys standing outside and a quick light, before returning to my little spot on the wall.

“They’re right bad for you, ya know” A voice to my right startled me.

“Jesus! You need to stop scaring me like that!” I shrieked.

“Nah not Jesus, just Chilly. However the beard has me thinking I do look a little bit God-like these days..no?” He says as he runs his fingers through the barely-there beard. Sure I could agree with stubble, maybe even a little bit more than stubble, but a beard? Not yet. However, I wasn't about to dim his sparkle.

“I like the beard, Chilly.” I confirmed.

“I like you, Mils” Wow ok. Straight to the point then.

“Well thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.” I tried to play it off, it was obvious we had both consumed far too much alcohol this evening and the cigarette was currently working wonders in its purpose of sobering me up.

“Ya know, the girls were out there tonight looking for your Greek Adonis to come and sweep you off your feet. They were looking a bit too hard though, if you know what i mean” he sweet talks me, and its working.

“Wow Ben, you’re really out here laying it on thick tonight - factor 50 i would say. I’m sure you’re just looking through rose coloured glasses right now” I joked back with him. I can’t say I didn't notice all of his longing looks, extra attention to me, constant protection when we would be out in public, but I knew at the end of the week that I would be going back to Turin, so there wasn’t any point.

Finishing up our little chat (read: heavy flirting session), we headed back inside together to join the group. Before long, Jorgi comes up to me with a drink and a smug smile on his face.

“Che cosa?” (what?) I questioned him in Italian, trying to limit as many people understanding our conversation as possible.

“Cosa succede a mykonos, rimane a mykonos, no?” (what happens in mykonos, stays in mykonos, no?) He says as he leans into my ear. To anyone else it would just look like two friends trying to have a conversation in a loud club, but I understood his message loud and clear.

“non sto facendo niente di male, né l'ho mai fatto. non voleva etichette, quindi è quello che ha ottenuto” (i'm not doing anything wrong, nor have i ever. he wanted no labels so that’s what he got.) I say back firmly. Jorgi let go of my shoulders and moved to stand in front of me.

“It’s ok tesoro (darling), I’m sure Federico would agree with you” He said back to me in English, it was obvious that he wanted someone around to understand the premise of our conversation. He smiled cheekily at me, before taking a swig of his drink and dancing backwards into the crowd as I shook my head at him.

Jorgi and I developed the kind of friendship that would last through time. We were equals. We listened to each other's problems, offered the advice that we needed to hear & not necessarily wanted to hear. We promoted each other's happiness and tried to get each other to not take life too seriously. This was his way of bringing me back down to earth, reminding me of what I have waiting for me back in Turin, but also making sure I knew what was right in front of me. He left the decision up to me to make, but he played his part to make sure I knew all of my options. He really was a good friend, which would make my next career decision a little bit more challenging than anticipated.

Part 6. | parte sesta