𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟐

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goodnight n go - Ariana Grande

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goodnight n go - Ariana Grande

I discovered six hours ago, that it's supposed to be Alessio's birthday today. That would explain why I'm up at 5:30 am, trying to send invites out for his party.

He didn't even bother telling me his birthday was soon. I feel bad, I've been dismissing him this entire week. All the energy has been sucked out of me for the past two weeks, but I slowly find myself reviving.

Surprisingly, it's all thanks to Alessio. He would die before admitting it but, he's been bringing me flowers, cooking meals, tolerating my obsession for rom-coms. He's trying to make me feel better, it doesn't take someone smart to realize it.

No one's really been there for me the way he has. Ever. I can't help but swoon at the fact that, he even considered trying to make me feel better. Alessio isn't the type of person to care for someone easily. So, for him to even try, means a lot to me.

Planning a party is the least I can do for him. I barely got any sleep, but I've downed two coffees so far. Let's hope that caffeine kicks in.

I invite all of his friends—business partners—to the party. Now that I notice it, Alessio's really vary of who he lets inside his life. His only real friend is, Rocco.

He also has this other friend, Damien, he's mentioned him a few times. They don't really see each other as often, due to work. I'm hoping he can come tonight.

It takes me about half hour to invite everyone. Alessio has more enemies than friends. This is why I don't like getting involved in business relationships, it's too messy. Plus, I'd get fired within the first day If I were to ever work in a business setting.

Everyone's cutthroat, I don't think I'd be able to handle it. Could be my sensitive heart, or the way I can't handle criticism.

After inviting everyone, I start to make breakfast for Alessio. Now here's the thing. I can't cook for shit. No matter how many times I've tried, it always comes out either burnt or toxic waste.

I'd like to think it builds character, but in reality it doesn't. I'm giving it one last try. I decide on making soufflé. Looks kind of easy, right? Either way, it's the thought that counts.

I put an apron, and get all the ingredients ready. I start following the recipe, and I'm already confused as fuck. Lost in my confusion, I don't realize footsteps trailing towards me.

"What are you doing?" A voice booms from my left ear, and I jump at the unexpected sound.

I grab my chest in shock, "You, asshole. What are you doing here." The words fly out of my mouth, before I can even realize it. I internally cringe, I probably shouldn't have called him an asshole, on his birthday.

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