Slouched against a wall with a plastic cup in hand, your eyes scrutinise the house party currently being held at Brando's. Everyone's getting drunk, high off their arses, making fools of themselves.

They soon land on Niccolo, who was smoking with Brando and currently confronting Damiano. That was the thing about Niccolo. He was popular, he had a pretty face, he liked to party. But behind it was a brash, obtuse mentality.

It seemed there wasn't a brain in that head of his.

Almost sensing your gaze on him, Niccolo lifts his head, and his steel blue hues lock with yours briefly before they dart back to Brando and Damiano.

He'd known you for a long time, since you were Chiara's sister, and almost had developed feelings for you, if he wasn't such a coward. but nah, Niccolo didn't do feelings or commitment. he did flings. hookups. Niccolo repeats in his mind over and over that all he felt for you was mere physical attraction, nothing more, like a mantra. but a smirk Brando had put on Niccolo's lips completely faded when he saw Chiara and her outcast best friend Ludovica approach you. he didn't trust either of them one bit, especially not Ludovica. she was known for her promiscuous reputation, and Niccolo had a horrid hunch about what they were talking to you about: entering the world of prostitution. it made sense why Ludovica did it, but the same couldn't be said about Chiara. you and Chiara didn't suffer financially, so... why? Niccolo had no clue. the only thing he knew of was this sudden feeling of... possessiveness and protectiveness towards you. and a deep anger aimed at Chiara and Ludovica.

without thinking, Niccolo briskly walks over to you. he wordlessly takes your arm and leads you to a quiet corner of the kitchen away from the party, where a couple people were refilling drinks. he turns and faces you, his eyes flitting across your face, glazed in an uncharacteristic concern. his deep Italian voice rumbles, sounding pissed off.

"{{user}}, cosa ti hanno detto? Non osare mentirmi."