𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐄𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬
Emilia, a mixture of Enzo and Elianna. She isn't afraid of anyone and is a headstrong force to be reckoned with. For most of her life, Emilia had only had two goals in mind: attaining her degree and finding...
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Emilia's POV
When I was 16, I received my high school diploma. I was diligent and I made sure I studied even though I was home schooled.
My father didn't like the idea of me going to a regular school. He claimed that it would be too dangerous.
I liked being home-schooled. I could have my classes anywhere I wanted. It could be in the kitchen, my bedroom, the garden, anywhere. However, sometimes it sucked.
I never got to make any friends or get that highschool love I always saw in movies. Even though I had my parents who showered me with love and support, I still felt alone.
I felt like I was missing a part of me; the missing piece to my puzzle.
I thought maybe trying out college would be a good thing. Maybe then I could find that missing piece but now I can't even do that.
My stomach grumbled as I held my phone staring at that F.
"Calm down," I said to my stomach before I started walking to the kitchen.
When I reached, I looked around for a cook, maid, or anyone for a matter of fact but no one was here.
At home, I am used to food being cooked for me.
When I was 8, our longtime housekeeper, Ms. Rossi, passed away. After that, we never had anyone stable again.
My mother is not that good at cooking and unfortunately, I have inherited that disadvantage as well.
My stomach cried again and I sighed.
I'm going to have to make my own food here, aren't I?
"I can do this," I whispered to myself before heading to the refrigerator.
I took out the eggs and bacon before putting the frying pan on the stove to heat.
I quickly made my breakfast before sharing it on my plate.
When I started to pour my coffee, he walked in.
We exchanged glances but neither of us dared to break our silence.
He opened the cupboard to get a mug before pouring his coffee when I finished pouring mine.
I silently sat around the kitchen island as I started eating my breakfast.
I couldn't help but notice him looking disgusted by my food.
When he looked away, I looked down at my burnt eggs and bacon. I even managed to burn my bread in the toaster. I felt embarrassed.
I could count with my fingers the number of times I made breakfast for myself.
"You could've told me," I said to break our awkward silence.
