Be My Slave (Måneskin Fanfiction // Damiano Victoria Ethan Thomas)

number 22: call

A little Ethan appreciation chapter. Because he is my babyyyyy. Love him honestly.

Enjoy,

I heard a phone ring but I didn't feel like answering it so I just let it echo in the room.

"Why didn't we booked rooms for each of us," I heard Thomas murmur in Italian. He sounded sleepy and barely understandable because a pillow was covering his face.

"We did," Damiano said. Also sounded sleepy. "None of you motherfuckers want to leave the room so we all end up staying here."

I opened my eyes slowly. As always, Vic was the only one actually awake.

"Because we're usually pretty tired at nights," she said, directly looking at me. Well she was right about that. She took a step near me and passed me my phone.

"It's a call for you," she said. What? From who? I thought to myself. I rubbed my eyes to see clearly. I looked at my phone to see it was Fiore.

Shit.

I was so occupied with Måneskin, USA, trip and everything that I honestly had forgotten their existence. I was such a bad friend to have. Last time I spoke to Bendetta hadn't been great either.

"Shit," I said this time, not from my head. Victoria looked concerned and I felt Damiano straighten his body on the bed near me.

"What's wrong," Victoria asked.

"Nothing," I said while getting out of the bed. I put on my shoes. I had yet again an oversized t-shirt on me as a pajama. I let the call end. "Just a friend. I'll go talk to them outside. Don't want to disturb their sleep," I looked at Ethan and Thomas who had fallen asleep again once the ringing stopped.

They both nodded and I left the room. I called Fiore back while walking to the elevator to go to the hotel terrace. He answered after a few beeping.

"Thank god she's alive." I heard his voice. A laugh was comig from afar. I figured it was Antonio.

"I'm sorry. I should've at least texted." I said. I wouldn't usually do that  but they'd told me to let them now once I arrived and I hadn't.

"You should have." Said Fiore but he didn't really dwell upon it. "You sound alive. I guess you're happy there?" he asked.

"Yeah I am." I said. "New york is a great city."

"I don't think it's the city that made you happy though. Rome is also a great city you know?." he said. I didn't say anything about that. I was determined to keep them to myself this time.

I asked about Bendetta, feeling guilty. "Is Bendetta there?" I asked. I heard Fiore pulling the phone from his ear. I didn't hear a sound for a couple of seconds than Fiore talked.

"Nah, sorry." he said. I told him that it was okay and I'd see them around once I go back, before hanging up.

I'd brought a pack of cigarettes with me just in case so I lit it. I let the smoke enter my lungs. Since it was early in the morning, it was a little cold. Soft wind waa licking my bare skin. It had felt good. As Victori said, New York was a great city.

After a couple of minutes, I heard footsteps. I looked to see who it was and I saw Ethan.

"Hi," he said. Waving at me. I blinked and smiled. He walked near me.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Sì" I replied. Everything was really okay. I was here with them. I didn't care about couple of people I'd just met. I wouldn't let them destroy my mood. Ethan looked as if he was waiting an explanation.

"Few friends from Italy." I said. He looked confused.

"Do you have friends?" he asked. He'd got a point. I never ever talked over the phone with anything. I wasn't really a social type back in London and I didn't need anyone in Italy. So I'd never met any.

"Guess I do now," I said. I was as confused ad he was.

"Dove sono gli altri?" I asked. (w.n: according to google translate it means where are the others💀)

"Dami and Vic went to grab breakfast from hotel restaurant. Thomas is still asleep."

I nodded.

"I missed our little chats," I told him. He smiled at me preciously.

"Anch'io." he said. "I love mixing languages. Helps me practice."

I wrapped my arm around his and I put my head to his shoulder. "Me too." I said. "Amo mescolare le lingue. Mi aiuta a fare pratica."

(w.n: they say the same thing but in different languages for different parts.)
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