đŽđ¤đŞ?... đđđ!? đ.đ
Paring: (g!p) Daniela Avanzini x Female Reader (use of y/n)
áľáľáľË˘ â Alternative Universe â Reader Insert â Second Person POV â Romantic Comedy â "Step-siblings" âBanter & Sarcasm â Family Drama â Sexual Tension â too much, excessive, cheap clichĂŠ.
Block me? Are you fifteen years old? pt 2.
In the morning, AdĂŠla had already showered and looked flawless, as if the hangover had never existed. You, on the contrary, were dragging subtle dark circles under your eyes that you had to cover up with extra effort.
âAs you walked into the kitchen, you noticed Daniela sitting on one of the high stools at the island.
âIt takes you a second to even recognize her.
âYou're used to seeing her look great, sure, but this morning it seems like she decided to turn the entire hallway into an impromptu runway. The light gray of her cropped hoodie, fitted to her body and barely zipped up with a silver zipper, shows a sneak peek of the subtle glow of the necklaces resting on her chest. The name Gia, embroidered in the center, looks like a signature, as if the piece of clothing had been made exclusively for her.
The black cargo pants steal your attention immediately after. Baggy, low-waisted, and covered in hand-painted-looking white graffiti, they turn every step into a fashion statement. The lines, drawings, and splashes contrast with the rest of the outfit, breaking the simplicity of the gray with a calculated dose of chaos.
âHer dark hair falls in defined curls over her shoulders, framing her almost expressionless face, as if she weren't even aware of the effect she has just by showing up.
âYou can't help but keep staring at her a second longer than usual.
Because yeah, Daniela always looks good. But today... today she looks ridiculously good. Like she woke up with the sole intention of reminding everyone that even in casual clothes, she was capable of eclipsing any conversation the second she walks through the door.
She was holding a coffee cup in her hands, casually chatting with your dad about some architecture sketches he had left on the table.
ââGood morning, girls! âhe greeted, looking up with a bright smileâ. Look who decided to join us today. Dani says her project delivery was a total success.
âCongrats, Daniela âAdĂŠla said, walking into the kitchen.
âThe Latina looked up from her cup. Her gaze drifted past AdĂŠla and locked onto you.
âThanks âshe replied, dragging out the wordâ. The truth is, when I focus on something, I don't stop until I get exactly what I want. Even if people sometimes try to put... obstacles in my way.
âYou swallowed hard, dodging her gaze to pour yourself a glass of orange juice.
ââObstacles? âAna asked, walking into the kitchen with a platter of chopped fruitâ. Did you have trouble with the professors, sweetie?
âNo, Mom. Nothing like that âDaniela replied, without taking her eyes off youâ. More like with communication. Seems like people get scared and prefer to cut the line out of nowhere. Right, (y/n)?
ââIf you say so âyou replied, turning around and holding her gaze with all the firmness you could muster.
Your dad let out a chuckle, completely oblivious to the nuclear war being fought over the granite island.
âBy the way, honey, I wanted to ask you a favor. I have to go out with Ana to sign some insurance papers for Dani's car, and then we're going to look at some rugs for the studio. Would you mind staying to receive the electrician? He's supposed to come check the basement wiring.
âPanic rushed down your spine like a splash of freezing water. Staying alone? In the house? With her?
âDad, the thing is... AdĂŠla and I were gonna go out to...
âOh, don't worry about me, sir! âyour friend interrupted, giving you a quick wink that made you want to strangle herâ. Actually, I have to go to the downtown branch to pick up some visa documents I forgot yesterday. I can go alone perfectly. That way (y/n) can help out around the house.
âYou looked at your best friend with pure betrayal in your eyes. You knew exactly what she was doing: she was leaving you at the mercy of the wolf to see what would happen, you absolute bitch.
ââPerfect then âyour dad decided.
âHalf an hour later, the house fell into an eternal silence. Your dad and Ana had left in the car, and AdĂŠla had said goodbye to you with a kiss on the cheek and a shameless whisper close to your ear: "Enjoy the company."
You were left standing in the hallway, listening to the taxi engine fade away down the avenue.
âDetermined to avoid contact at all costs, you headed to the living room, grabbed a book from the coffee table, and sat in the armchair, trying to focus on the words. But your mind wasn't cooperating. Every little creak of the wood, every gust of wind against the windows made you tense your shoulders.
Not even ten minutes passed before you heard slow, deliberate footsteps coming down the stairs.
âYou gripped the book so hard your knuckles turned white. You didn't look up, determined to ignore her until she got tired and went to her room.
The footsteps stopped right behind the couch where you were. You could catch the scent of her perfume, that subtle smell of clean tobacco that always seemed to hover around her.
ââDid you block me? âDaniela dropped.
Her voice didn't sound mad. It sounded amused, drawn out, with that lazy cadence that made your hair stand on end.
âYou didn't answer. You turned the page of the book loudly, faking an absolute focus you didn't have.
Daniela let out a low laugh, a rhythmic sound that vibrated in the air. In one quick, fluid motion, she stepped over the back of the couch, completely blocking your reading light by standing right in front of you.
âI asked you a question âshe insisted, reaching out to gently press down on the top edge of the book, forcing you to lower itâ. Are you fifteen or something?
âYou locked eyes with her, her gaze gleaming with a shameless mockery that made your blood boil instantly.
âI'm old enough to decide who I talk to and who I don't âyou shot backâ. And your messages last night were ridiculous, gross, and immature. I don't have to put up with your bullshit when I'm outside of this house.
ââOh, really? You thought it was gross? âDaniela tilted her head, a slow, wicked smirk curving her lipsâ. I don't care, I love watching how that little head of yours works to try and convince yourself that you hate me.
âI hate you âyou declared again, trying to push her away with your foot against her leg, but she barely moved. Her body was like a rock, firm and frustratingly stableâ. Leave me alone. AdĂŠla is right, you're obsessed with playing this little game.
âThat confession seemed to light a different spark in her eyes. She reached out and, with a slowness that took your breath away, caught a lock of your hair, wrapping it around her index finger.
âYour little friend thinks that about me? âshe murmuredâ. How observant. Maybe I should spend more time with her to see if she's as smart as she seems... or if she just likes sticking her nose where it doesn't belong.
ââShe has nothing to do with this.
âThen don't use her as a shield âDaniela snapped, her tone suddenly turning cold and commandingâ. Blocking me isn't gonna change anything, (y/n). You can delete my number, you can try to ignore me in front of our parents... but we both know how this is gonna end the second we're alone again.
âYou were left speechless, trapped under the weight of her gaze and the crushing truth of her words. The situation grossed you out, the guilt about your dad ate at you, but the way Daniela was holding that lock of your hair, the closeness, and the heat rushing up your body were destroying any trace of willpower you had left.
ââUnblock me âshe ordered in a whisper, brushing her knuckles along your jawlineâ. Now.
âA sharp knock on the door saved you, followed by the house doorbell echoing through every corner. âThe electrician âyou let out in a gasp, using Daniela's split second of distraction to slip out of her grip, brushing her hand away from your jaw and jumping to your feet.
âDon't you dare âshe said, following right behind you.
âYou walked at a fast pace toward the foyer, almost running to keep her from catching up. Daniela was right on your heels, mumbling curses under her breath and reaching out to try and grab your arm.
âYou rested your hand on the door handle, took a deep breath to calm your racing heart, and pulled it open, forcing the sweetest, most radiant smile you could muster in a millisecond.
âHi! Good morning âyou said, trying to keep your voice from shaking.
The man on the other side looked back at you with a neutral expression. He was wearing a navy blue polo shirt with the service company logo, comfortable jeans, work boots, and a toolbox slung over his shoulder.
Daniela planted herself by your side so fast her shoulder subtly bumped into yours. She shoved her hands into her cargo pockets and started scanning him from head to toe with shameless slowness.
Still, in front of strangers, they had to be nice, supportive, and, of course, act like the good girls their parents thought they were.
âThe man looked at a clipboard in his hand and then looked up at you two.
âAvanzini family? âhe asked.
âBoth of you glanced at each other for a fraction of a second.
Your last name wasn't Avanzini, nor was your dad's, and this house was probably still registered under Ana's maiden name. The whole mess of moving and the legal paperwork of their parents' new marriage was still a chaos of names.
ââUh... âyou started to babble, feeling the situation get awkward again.
The electrician, noticing your hesitation, checked the paper one more time.
âThis is number 407, right?
âDaniela nodded immediately, recovering her perfect mask of friendliness. âYeah, of course. Come in âshe said, stepping aside with a polite wave of her hand.
The man stepped across the threshold, dragging the smell of tools and outside air into the scented hallway. He stopped in the middle of the hall and looked around, sizing up the house before locking his eyes back on the two of you. âIs there an adult present? âhe asked, in a slightly condescending tone.
ââWe're both adults, sir âyou replied, squaring your shoulders.
The man let out a light laugh, setting his toolbox on the floor, careful not to scratch the wood. He ran a hand through his brown hair and gave you an amused look.
âI mean your parents, girls. And... don't call me "sir," I'm barely thirty-five.
âA thirty-five-year-old guy, wow.
âDaniela narrowed her eyes with that lethal coldness she saved for anyone who tried to act smart in her territory.
âWe prefer to keep our manners âshe intervened. She took a step forward, subtly putting herself between the electrician and youâ. Let me show you to the basement. It's right this way.
âThe guy seemed to catch the subtle drop in temperature in the room and cleared his throat, picking up his toolbox with a sudden rush.
âSure, sure. The basement. Lead the way âhe said, stressing the last words with a smile that tried to be friendly.
âDaniela walked toward the basement door, located at the end of the hallway, under the grand staircase. You followed close behind, not so much to be helpful, but because the idea of leaving her alone with a thirty-five-year-old electricianâwho clearly thought he was twenty-fiveâwas a recipe for disaster.
âWhen she opened the door, a cool breeze with a slight damp smell greeted them. The concrete stairs led down into a darkness barely broken by a switch Daniela flipped in annoyance. A yellow bulb turned on on the ceiling, revealing stone walls and exposed pipes.
âIt's down here âshe said, pointing into the abyss with a politeness so exaggerated it felt like she was inviting the man into a medieval dungeonâ. The main panel is at the back, to the left.
ââGot it. Now leave it to the professionals âthe guy replied, stepping down the stairs with a firm pace.
You stayed on the first step, looking down, but Daniela didn't budge from your side. In fact, taking advantage of the fact that the man already had his back turned, setting up his tools on the basement floor, Daniela pressed herself against you from behind.
â"We're both adults, sir" âshe mocked you in a whispering tease right in your ear, mimicking your dignified tone from a moment agoâ. You sounded so mature, (y/n). You almost made me forget that you kicked my shin like a spoiled brat.
ââShut up âyou hissed back, turning your head to glare at her, but that only made your nose almost brush against hersâ. Work on your manners, idiot.
ââHey, girls âthe electrician's voice echoed from the back of the basement, with a pretty funny metallic ringâ. Do you have a flashlight around there? This panel is darker than my future if I don't finish this job perfectly.
âYou pulled away from Daniela with a jerk, ignoring the quiet chuckle she let out.
âI'll grab one! âyou yelled down to the basement.
âDon't bother, man âDaniela yelled back to the electrician, using a fake-sweet tone that made you want to throw upâ. My sister has her phone flashlight. She'll go down to light it up for you. She loves being helpful.
âYou turned to her with your eyes wide. âAre you crazy? No, you go.
âBut you were the one who wanted to keep your manners and show respect to your elders, right? âDaniela gave you an angelic smile, giving you a gentle but firm nudge on the back, forcing you down the first stepâ. Go on, go help the thirty-five-year-old youngster. I'll stay up here... making sure the power doesn't cut out.
ââI despise you âyou muttered between your teeth as you started heading down the stairs, pulling your phone out of your pocket.
âThe electrician looked up from the panel. âShine it right here, please. And try not to lose focus, because if I hit the wrong wire, we both get electrocuted.
âI hope we get electrocuted, you thought in frustration.
âThe first few minutes in the basement passed in silence, broken only by the metallic clink of tools against the panel and the rhythmic hum of static electricity. You limited yourself to holding the phone flashlight steady.
However, as the initial awkwardness faded, you decided to break the ice. You started holding the screwdrivers for him before he even asked and anticipating which wire he needed you to light up. Your sudden helpful attitude immediately softened the vibe.
ââWow, you're a first-class assistant âhe commented with a smile, keeping his eyes on a copper wireâ. Mad respect. My other clients usually leave me down here alone with the spiders.
âYou laughed softly. âHave you always liked... electricity?
He let out a laugh, tightening a bolt. âNot at all. Actually, I studied business administration. But life takes weird turns. I ended up doing this independently because I needed a flexible schedule... and, well, an urgent double income.
ââA double income? âyou asked, genuinely curious.
âYeah âhe replied, his tone getting noticeably softerâ. I run a shelter for abandoned dogs on the outskirts of the city. Keeping more than thirty furry mouths eating good quality kibble and paying vet bills is not cheap at all. The electricity pays for my pups' food.
âThat confession completely melted your heart.
âThirty dogs? âyou said, your eyes shiningâ. Oh my God, that is beautiful.
ââIt's absolute chaos, but it's worth every penny âhe wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm and, with a proud smile that lit up his face, pulled his phone out of his pants pocketâ. Look, right before coming, they sent me this photo. This is Hercules, a Great Dane who thinks he's a Chihuahua, and these three here are Bean, Slipper, and Lentil, this week's rescues.
âYou burst out laughing, fascinated by the names and the photos of the puppies piled up on a massive dog bed. The warmth of this worker was contagious, a breath of fresh, honest air that you desperately needed.
âWhat about you guys? No animals in this mansion? âhe asked, putting his phone away and refocusing on the wiring.
âYou shook your head, letting out a resigned sigh.
âNo. I'd love to have one, honestly, but I've never had a pet.
That made the electrician stop in his tracks, turning to look at you with a raised eyebrow, pointing a screwdriver at you dramatically.
âWait, never? In your whole life? Are you some kind of sociopath?
ââHey! âyou protested, letting out another laugh and giving him a gentle nudge on the shoulderâ. It's not my fault! We lived in a super small place before moving here.
âAlright, I temporarily forgive you âhe joked, getting back to work. After a few seconds of silence, he let out a heavy sigh, running the back of his hand over his lipsâ. Phew... my throat feels drier than the Sahara desert down here with all this dust. You wouldn't happen to have a glass of water around, would you?
ââWater? âyou stood up straight, thinking fastâ. How about an ice-cold lemonade? It's way more refreshing for how hot it is in here.
âYou watched his eyes light up in an almost comical way, like you had just offered him a winning lottery ticket.
ââHomemade lemonade? God, I just promoted you to my favorite person of the day.
âDeal âyou said with a smile, backing toward the stairsâ. By the way, I didn't ask your name.
ââFrank âhe replied, giving you a wink.
âI'll be right back down, Frank âyou assured him, and both of you laughed before you turned around to head up the steps.
âWhen you opened the basement door to head back into the main hallway, the loud crash of something heavy hitting the floor made you jump in pure fright.
Right in front of you, on the stairs leading up to the second floor, a massive black trash bag full of old sheets and empty moving boxes had just landed. Looking up, you found Daniela lazily leaning against the wooden railing, watching you from above with a raised eyebrow.
ââOops, sorry. It slipped âthe Latina lied in her usual slurred tone, though the smug smirk on her lips gave away that she had done it on purpose to scare you.
She walked down the steps, stopping a couple of paces from you. She scanned your face, noticing immediately that your expression was no longer that of the tense, cornered girl from twenty minutes ago; you were relaxed, almost glowing.
ââIs the thirty-five-year-old "youngster" done yet? âshe asked, crossing her arms.
âNo, he's barely getting started âyou replied, ignoring her teasing tone and turning toward the kitchenâ. Um... are there lemons?
âDaniela frowned, her body moving on pure instinct to follow you into the kitchen.
âYeah. I'm making Frank some lemonade.
âFrank? âDaniela let out a short, incredulous laughâ. Wow, you guys get close fast. Ten minutes ago he was "sir" and now you're already making him drinks using his first name.
âDespite her comment, Daniela walked right past you toward the huge double-door fridge. She bent down naturally toward the fruit and veggie drawer while you opened the pantry to grab the sugar jar and a glass pitcher.
âThink fast âshe suddenly warned.
You turned around just in time to see two large, yellow lemons flying your way. Your reflexes, sharpened by the adrenaline that having her close always gave you, didn't fail: you caught both lemons in the air with a clean move.
âDaniela leaned against the counter, watching you with a small, lopsided smile that, for the first time, had no trace of mockery or malice. It was almost... a friendly smile.
âNot bad âshe admitted, gesturing to the lemons in your handsâ. Though I still think you're way too soft with strangers.
ââIt's called being a good host, Daniela. You should try it sometime âyou shot back, though your tone was strangely light, almost playful, as you started slicing the lemons on the wooden cutting board.
âNot interested âshe replied, taking a step toward you and grabbing an empty glass from the shelfâ. But since I'm hot too... you're gonna have to pour me a glass first.
ââPour you a glass first? âyou repeated, raising an eyebrow as you squeezed the first lemon into the pitcherâ. Talk about cheap labor. I do everything and you get the first glass just for passing me the lemons.
ââYou should be glad I didn't charge you interest for the air delivery âDaniela replied with total shamelessness.
She stretched over to reach the sugar jar you had set aside. As she did, her arm brushed against yoursâa touch of fabric against fabric that made you hold your breath for a split second. But this time there was no painful static electricity, just a strangely comfortable warmth. Daniela uncovered the jar and grabbed a metal spoon, holding it in front of you like she was waiting for your orders as chef.
ââHow many spoonfuls for your friend Frank? âshe asked, stressing the name with a bit of that irony that was already her trademarkâ. Wouldn't want him to get a diabetic shock down there.
âThree âyou said, trying to hold back a smileâ. And he's not my friend. He's just... a nice guy. He works as an electrician to support an abandoned dog shelter.
âDaniela's hand stopped halfway with the second spoonful of sugar. She stared at you, blinking a couple of times, like she was processing the information.
âA dog shelter? âshe repeated.
âYeah. He has like thirty. He showed me pictures of one named Slipper.
âDaniela let out a short laughâone of those laughs of hers that didn't try to sound seductive or mysterious, but purely spontaneous. She dropped the sugar into the pitcher and shook her head, resting her elbows on the island while she watched you finish squeezing.
âSlipper... People with actual drive low-key blow my mind. Though well, that explains why you fell for it so fast. You're a softie, beautiful. They show you a puppy and you're already handing over the keys to the house.
ââI didn't hand over anything! âyou protested, pouring cold water into the pitcher and starting to stir the mixâ. I'm just empathetic. A foreign concept to you, I know.
âTotally. I'm more about practical solutions âshe replied.
âWithout asking, Daniela took the pitcher from your hands to finish stirring the sugar at the bottom. Her movements were confident, almost domestic, and for a second you found yourself staring at her hands: those hands that had held you with an almost painful firmness were now handling the wooden spoon with an almost ridiculous care.
When the lemonade was ready, Daniela took a glass, filled it to the brim, and took a long sip, closing her eyes as she tasted it. âNeeds a touch of mint, but... it works âshe judged, licking her wet lipsâ. Approved. You can go down and feed your rescuer now.
âYou took the pitcher and another clean glass, feeling a strange flutter in your chest. This unsigned truce, this flow of words without double meanings or tensions that made you want to run away, felt... good.
You headed to the kitchen door, but before leaving, you stopped and turned to look at her. Daniela was still leaning on the counter, holding her glass with both hands, watching you in silence.
ââThanks for the help.
âWhatever... hurry up, maybe Frank passed out âshe replied before taking another sip of her glass.
ââVery funny, Avanzini.
As you crossed the kitchen threshold, your focus shifted completely to balancing the cold pitcher and the glasses as you made your way to the basement. You walked away with a slight smile painted on your face.
âDaniela stayed frozen in the exact same spot, holding her half-finished glass.
She watched you leave, looking at the subtle sway of your shoulders and the softness of your step. As you walked further away, the impenetrable expression Daniela usually wore as armor completely crumbled. Her lips curved, but this time it wasn't that smug smirk or that teasing face she used to constantly provoke you.
It was a silly, involuntary, daydreaming smile. One of those smiles that gives anyone awayâsoft and honest, the kind she rarely allowed herself to show.
âShe kept staring at the empty hallway you had just disappeared into for a few seconds, her chest loaded with warmth.
Realizing what she was doing, she blinked rapidly, shaking her head as if trying to wake up from a spell.
She looked down at the glass of lemonade she was still holding. Her smile turned into a look of half-amused, half-scared resignation. She let out a long, almost inaudible sigh, shaking her head with a trace of disbelief.
ââSo stupid... âshe whispered to herself, her voice barely louder than a breathâ. You already fell for her, you fell hard.
When you went back down to the basement, the electrician turned around, wiping his hands with a gray rag, and when he saw the pitcher foggy with condensation and the glasses you were carrying, he let out a whistle of pure admiration.
âNo way. Youâre an angel sent from heaven âhe exclaimed, dropping the rag onto his toolboxâ. I swear I was already starting to see oasis mirages among these wires.
ââI told you Iâd be down soon âyou smiled, stepping closer to rest the pitcher on an old wooden workbench in a cornerâ. And it comes with the house stamp of approval.
You poured him a freezing cold glass and handed it over. Frank took it eagerly and took a long chug, closing his eyes with a sigh of absolute glory. âGod. This is amazing âhe said, looking at you with genuine gratitudeâ. It has the exact right amount of sugar. Officially, youâre invited to check out the shelter whenever you want. Slipper and Lentil are gonna love you.
ââYouâre not getting rid of me that easily now that I know you have puppies âyou teased, pouring a bit for yourself tooâ. Howâs the panel coming? Will we survive without the house blowing up?
âIâm almost done with the first phase âFrank explained, pointing his screwdriver at the intricate maze of wiresâ. Your dad was right, the main switch was overloaded. You guys probably turned on too many things at the same time. But nothing a couple of new fuses and a little patience canât fix. In about ten minutes, Iâll be ready to test the power again.
ââPerfect. If you need me to hold anything else, let me know.
You leaned against the edge of the wooden table, sipping the lemonade while Frank went back to his task, now at a much more relaxed pace. The conversation flowed naturally during those ten minutes; he told you how Bean had learned to open the cabinet door where they kept the kibble and what a mess that meant every single morning.
âAlright... âFrank finally said, putting the last pliers back in their case and shutting the metal cover of the panel with a firm clickâ. The moment of truth. Iâm flipping the main switch up. Cross your fingers so we donât get left in the dark forever.
ââCrossed âyou said, holding up both hands with your fingers intertwined.
âFrank shoved the lever upward. A dull hum ran through the place, and immediately, the yellowish light of the basement glowed with much more intensity and stability. The background hum of the house came back to life, a sign that the current was flowing smoothly.
âAnd let there be light! âFrank announced with a theatrical gestureâ. Job's done.
ââYou're a genius, Frank âyou complimented him, picking up the now almost empty pitcher.
âJust a man working to feed his kids âhe smiled, slinging his heavy tool backpack over his shoulderâ. Letâs head up. I gotta see if my truck even starts, because thatâs a whole other horror story.
âYou guys went up the stairs, sharing one last laugh over the quirks of his old truck.
The second you pushed the basement door open to step into the first-floor hallway, right there in the entryway, just a few steps from the door, was the black-haired girl.
Seeing you both come out, her eyes clamped first on you and then shifted over to your companion.
ââJob's done, boss âFrank announced, addressing Daniela with a professional friendliness while setting his toolbox down on the entryway floor.
ââThank you so much, Frank. We really appreciate you coming out so fast âshe replied, modulating her voice with a perfect softness that low-key made you want to roll your eyes.
âDon't mention it. Just doing my job âhe smiled and then turned to you, fumbling around in his work pants pockets until he pulled out a small pen and a crumpled piece of paperâ. Hey, before I take off... let me give you my number. That way you can text me and we can coordinate for you to go to the shelter to meet Slipper and Lentil.
âFrankâs gesture was so genuinely sweet and selfless that you felt a smile spreading across your face. You reached out your hand to take the paper, but before your fingers could even brush against it, Daniela took half a step forward.
The corner of her lips smirked up. âYouâre lucky her boyfriend isn't here âshe dropped, slurring the words with an insanely calm attitudeâ. He might tear your head off.
âYou froze dead in your tracks. Your eyes went wide and your hand stayed frozen halfway in the air.
Frank blinked, completely thrown off by the sudden shift in the tone of the conversation. He let out a nervous but amused chuckle. âYou have a boyfriend? âhe laughed, scratching the back of his neck.
ââYes âDaniela answered immediately for you, before you could even articulate a single vowel. She glanced at you with relentless amusementâ. My brother-in-law is super jealous.
âThe air escaped your lungs in an inaudible hiss. The audacity of this idiot had no limits. Not only had she just made up a relationship out of thin air, but she had thrown a non-existent family connection into the equation, twisting the lie to a point so bizarre that only she could enjoy it. Your head started spinning at the speed of a ceiling fan.
Hearing the words "brother-in-law" and "boyfriend," Frank immediately nodded his head, wanting to avoid any kind of territorial drama with some jealous guy who might be six-foot-five.
He finished jotting down the digits on the crumpled paper quickly and, instead of handing it to you, he extended it straight to the Latina with an apologetic smile.
âI donât want any trouble with a jealous man. So... âhe grabbed his toolbox, slinging it over his shoulder with a sighâ. Here you go. Take care, girls. And thanks for the lemonade, it seriously saved my life.
ââThank you, Frank. Safe travels âDaniela said goodbye, taking the paper between her fingers with exaggerated gentleness.
You walked the electrician to the door, waving a timid goodbye as he walked to his truck. The moment you closed the front door and threw the deadbolt, you spun around sharply, feeling your face burning from pure indignation.
âDaniela was still there, leaning against the entryway wall, holding the little paper with the number between her index and middle fingers, lazily fanning her face with it.
â"My brother-in-law"? âyou hissed, taking a step toward her with your fists clenchedâ. Mind telling me what the hell is going through your head, Daniela? I don't have a boyfriend!
âDaniela simply shrugged, totally brushing it off. That made you completely lose your temper. That smug, "I haven't done anything wrong" look was the absolute last straw for your patience.
Frustrated and with your blood boiling, you took a step forward, reached out quickly, and gave her ear a sharp tug.
âNow you're playing dumb?! âyou yelled at her, completely losing the composure you had tried to keep all morning.
âOw! Let go of me! âDaniela whined. Instead of backing away, her free hand flew up and tangled into your hair, pulling it down hard.
âLet go! âyou shrieked, feeling the yank on your scalp.
âYou let go first! âshe hissed back at you, her eyes blazing and her face millimeters from yours, refusing to give up even an inch of ground.
âNeither of you was willing to back down. In a desperate move, your other hand slammed onto her face, shoving her chin up and forcing her head back to make her let go of you. Daniela, with a growl of pure rage, gripped your wrist tightly, squeezing it so hard it almost cut off your circulation.
âYou guys wrestled for a couple more seconds in the entryway, stumbling and subtly bumping against the wall in a mess of arms, heavy breathing, hair-pulling, and muttered curses between your teeth.
Finally, after one last mutual shove, you snapped apart, panting and with your hair completely messed up.
âYou adjusted your clothes with a tug, your chest rising and falling heavily, while Daniela ran a hand over her jaw where you had shoved her, glaring daggers at you. The little paper with Frankâs number was left crumpled on the floor, completely forgotten in the middle of the fight.
You stood in silence, staring each other down.
âNow which of the two of us was fifteen?
âVery slowly, the tension on Daniâs face gave way to that lopsided smirk, now disheveled, her cheeks flushed from the physical effort and her breath still a bit hitched. âWow... âshe let out, slurring her words as she took a slow step toward youâ. I didn't know the girl with the good manners solved things by pulling ears. How classy.
ââYou deserved it âyou shot back, crossing your arms and taking a step back to not let yourself be intimidated by her closenessâ. You are a literal headache, Daniela. You literally sabotaged my trip to the dog shelter. I just wanted to see Slipper!
ââSlipper? Por favor, (y/n) âshe scoffed, bending down with agonizing slowness to pick up the crumpled paper from the floor. She unfolded it with two fingers, looking at it with disdain before stuffing it into her pants pocketâ. I saved you from a guy who was clearly using his dogs as bait to get your number. You should be thanking me.
ââI don't need you to save me from anything, and definitely not by making up that I have a jealous boyfriend. It doesn't even make sense!
âIt makes perfect sense âshe countered. She took another step forward, cornering you against the living room door frameâ. It means youâre taken.
âYou ran out of air. The mix of the childish tantrum you guys just had and the sudden gravity of her words left you completely disarmed. ââYouâre crazy âyou whispered, though your body, treacherous as always, subtly leaned into hers.
âMaybe âshe admittedâ. But you keep up with my pace pretty well for someone so sane.
âRight when the distance between your lips was dangerously closing again, the sound of keys jingling in the front doorâs outer lock made you both react.
You jumped back at the same time, snapping completely apart. Daniela brushed off her gray hoodie with astonishing speed, recovering her lazy posture in a blink, while you smoothed down your shirt with shaky hands, trying to keep your face from looking so tellingly red.
âThe large wooden door swung open, revealing AdĂŠla, who walked in loaded with a couple of shopping bags from downtown and a grin from ear to ear.
âYou guys cannot imagine the traffic out there...
She stopped dead in her tracks upon seeing the two of you standing in the entryway. Her gaze, quick as lightning, traveled from your messy hair to Danielaâs flushed cheeks, and then to the paper sticking out of the Latinaâs pocket.
âA spark of pure amusement and malice flashed in your best friendâs eyes. âWell, well, well... âshe singsonged, dropping the bags on the floorâ. I see the electrician did some very... stimulating work.
You didn't waste a single second. Before the pink-haired girl could keep analyzing the scene with her usual filterless detective magnifying glass, you took a step forward, grabbed her firmly by the wrist, and started pulling her toward the stairs.
âTo my room. Now âyou stated, in a tone that left no room for argument.
âAdĂŠla, far from putting up a fight, let herself be dragged away while letting out a clean, shameless laugh. âIs it my lucky day? âshe teased, winking at you.
âThe little joke didnât amuse Daniela at all. Her friendly expression vanished in a split second, replaced by a rock-hard sternness. With a quick, low-key move, she extended her leg, placing her Nike sneaker right in the path of AdĂŠla's next step.
âHey! âthe pink-haired girl shrieked, suddenly tripping and having to grab the railing tightly to keep from falling face-first down the wooden steps.
ââWhat happened? âDaniela let out.
âShe said it with an exasperating calm, crossing her arms and watching her with a look that was pure warning.
ââDaniela âyou said in a warning tone.
AdĂŠla straightened up immediately, her mouth wide open at the Latina's massive boldness.
âNot sorry âthe black-haired girl said, turning around with total nonchalance to head toward the living room, leaving them behind with the echo of her steady footsteps.
ââThat damn crazy girl almost broke my three-hundred-dollar boot âAdĂŠla whispered in an indignant hiss, though her eyes gleamed with absolute fascination as they climbed the last few stepsâ. She is definitely unhinged. And I love it.
ââAs much as I love this three-ring circus, I'm afraid you're gonna be left without your protective shield today, babe âyour friend said, already planted on your bed like a dust miteâ. My brother just texted me. Heâs coming for me. I'm staying at my aunt and uncle's house.
âYou sat up, feeling a sudden emptiness in your stomach. âYou're leaving? Already? You're gonna leave me alone with... that.
ââI have to, babe. Plus, I promise you this way you can fix your "business" with no audience around âshe winked at youâ. But before I go, I demand you show me some good old nostalgia. Pull out the albums, I miss my youth.
âResigned, you got up and went to the back of your closet. After rummaging through moving boxes you hadn't even unpacked yet, you pulled out the heavy, worn leather-backed albums that held the memories of your entire life.
âYou sat next to her on the bed and opened the pages. Time seemed to stop as the hours flew by between laughs and memories. The first two albums documented their friendship since those early years in daycare, where they looked like two messy little elves sharing crayons, all the way through their teens, up to the photos of their recent graduation.
âPlease, look at me there âAdĂŠla mocked, pointing to a photo from when they were fourteenâ. Why did we decide that the punk phase with smudged eyeliner and Wattpad stories was a good idea? I look like a raccoon having an identity crisis.
ââYou looked cool, I looked like an extra from a low-budget horror movie âyou laughed, resting your chin on her shoulder.
AdĂŠla opened the album with golden letters; it was no longer a compilation of funny pictures, but a school yearbook with hundreds of young faces. She flipped through the pages with a smile that suddenly froze halfway. Her eyes went wide, fixed on a section of the album that belonged to a very specific period of their lives.
âShe frowned, leaning in so close her nose almost touched the paper. âHold on... âshe let out.
âShe stared straight into your eyes, then looked back at the album, and then looked back at you with an expression that mixed absolute disbelief with pure shock.
ââNo way... NO WAY! âshe exclaimed, giving you a gentle swat on the arm.
âWhat? What's wrong? âyou asked, thrown off by her reaction.
âAdĂŠla let out a nervous, almost hysterical laugh, pointing her index finger at an honor roll box on a page they usually skipped over. âDo you remember that for a whole year we decided to try out that private high school in Georgia because your dad had that construction project over there? âAdĂŠla put her hands to her headâ. There's an honorable mention for a club. The art club... led by Daniela Avanzini.
âYou snatched the album out of her hands so roughly you almost tore the page. Your eyes scanned every name.
Your pupils dilated. Your heart stopped for a full second before it started beating with a force that actually hurt in your chest.
ââNO WAY! âyou yelled, feeling like the room was spinning.
âBitch... âAdĂŠla looked at you with her mouth wide open.
âNo. No, no. How? Why... It can't be her! âyou babbled, feeling a mix of panic and a shock so big it was hard to breathe.
ââAww, you guys are soulmates âAdĂŠla squealed, hugging you around the neck dramatically.
âAdĂŠla! âyou pushed her away, your face burning hot.
âGirl, you literally crossed paths years ago at that stupid high school. Maybe your worlds weren't the same back then, you didn't even register each other in the hallways because you were an antisocial loner and she was the goth queen of the art club, but your paths... your paths were fucking destined to cross!
âYou turned the page to look for the individual yearbook photo of that workshop. And there she was.
Daniela's photo from back then.
She must have been seventeen. Shorter blonde hair, black eyeshadow on her eyelids, and that exact same haughty look. She was wearing an oversize black t-shirt and smirking, as if to say "I know I'm better than you."
ââShit âyou whispered, letting the album drop onto your lap.
âSee? âAdĂŠla nudged you, smiling in a way that only promised troubleâ. Fate isn't subtle, (y/n). You lived under the same school roof in Georgia, and now you live under the same family roof here. You can't run away from that.
âYou stared at the photo, processing that the girl you shared late-night sins with in your new house... had been just a few meters away from you years ago, without either of you knowing.
And now, the universe had taken care of locking you guys up in the same house.
âDid she ever recognize you? you asked yourself.
âYour mind dismissed the idea almost instantly.
No. She didn't remember me. If Daniela had known from day one that I was the girl from her old high school, she would have used it as a weapon against me.
ââShould I... uh... tell her? âyou murmured, running the pad of your finger over young Daniela's face in the photo.
âAdĂŠla, who was already frantically scrolling on her phone like she was an expert in relationship destiny diagnostics, didn't even look up. âWait, wait! âshe interrupted, with a triumphant smile as she read somethingâ. Look at this! According to this article on psychology applied to relationships, the chances of your partner already having met you years ago in a completely different context, without you guys realizing it at the time, is 17.4%. Itâs a real statistical fact! The 'predetermined social circle' theory.
âYou backed away from the album, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. âAdĂŠla... she is not my partner.
âAdĂŠla!!! âyou exclaimed, throwing a pillow right at her face.
ââDon't hit me, Iâm a fountain of wisdom! âshe defended herself, trying to catch her breathâ. Think about this: if she doesn't remember you, you have the upper hand. You can watch her reaction when you bring it up. Can you imagine the face sheâd make?
âYou dropped face-up onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. The thought of Daniela finding this out put a knot in your stomach. âDo you think I should just let her find out on her own? âyou asked, your voice barely audible.
ââI think âthe other girl started, getting serious for a second and taking you by the handâ that she is destined to be your favorite headache, sooner or later.
âRight then, the sound of a car horn honked from the street, shattering the intimate vibe of the room. AdĂŠla jumped to her feet, rummaging through your sheets for her purse.
âThat's my brother âshe said, blowing a kiss into the airâ. Stay calm, and please, if you find out anything new... call me!
You got up to walk her out, but before she left, you grabbed the album and shoved it under your pillow, hiding it like it was the most dangerous secret in the house.
âThe rest of the day felt strangely long. Now, every time you heard Daniela's footsteps in the hallway or heard her moving around downstairs, you couldn't help but look toward your pillow, wondering when the moment would come when she herself would find the proof that, against all odds, their lives had already brushed past each other way before.
âHad Daniela really been the leader of that art workshop in Georgia?
Determined not to drive yourself crazy overthinking it, you decided to go down to the kitchen. You needed to move, to do something with your hands that wasn't gripping a memory album.
âYou walked down the stairs slowly, almost floating, sharpening your hearing just in case you heard Daniela's music or the sound of her footsteps. Nothing. The house seemed asleep.
You walked into the kitchen, maybe you'd grab an apple.
You hadn't noticed her presence until the smell of smoke flooded your senses. âYour friend left âshe commented, breaking the silence.
âYou turned around slowly. Daniela was standing with her arms crossed and a mug of tea in her hands. She wasn't wearing the gray GIA hoodie anymore; now she wore a baggy black t-shirt that made you swallow hard instantly. It was almost identical to the one she wore in the Georgia photo.
ââShe went to stay with her family.
âWhat a shame âshe said, taking a slow step toward the kitchenâ. I low-key liked her. Though she has a terrible habit of tripping over her own feet.
ââYou were the one who tripped her, Daniela. Don't be cynical.
âUnimportant details âshe brushed it off with a wave of her hand, setting her mug on the kitchen islandâ. The point is that now we're alone. No thirty-five-year-old electricians, and no loud friends interrupting my conversations.
âThe physical proximity started doing its thing.
ââI still have your little paper âDaniela continued, reaching into her pants pocket, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper with Frank's number. She held it up in front of you, dangling it between two fingersâ. The shelter one. Do you really want to go see... what was his name? Slipper?
âYes, I really do âyou said, taking a step forward to try and snatch it from her, but Daniela was faster. She raised her hand way above her head, forcing you to stretch out and end up millimeters from her chest.
âNot so fast, princesa âshe whispered, looking down at you with a spark of absolute possessivenessâ. If you want your friend's number, you're gonna have to earn it. Or... you can ask me to go with you. I'm a much better driver than that guy, I can guarantee you that.
âYou stared at her, your breath starting to fail you. The black t-shirt, the haughty pose, the side-smirk... Everything about her fit so perfectly with the girl from the art club in Georgia that it seemed absurd you hadn't noticed it before. The revelation was burning on the tip of your tongue. You wanted to drop it on her.
ââWhat? âDaniela asked, narrowing her eyes as she noticed your silenceâ. Why are you looking at me like that?
âNothing âyou said, managing to make your voice sound firm, even though your heart was going a mile a minuteâ. I was just thinking... that you're very predictable. And that maybe you're not as mysterious as you think, Avanzini.
âDaniela arched an eyebrow, intrigued. âYou think so? âshe murmuredâ. Prove it. Tell me something about myself that I don't know you know.
âYou preferred to keep it from her for now.
AdĂŠla was right about one thing: having the advantage of that intel was way too fun to waste it this fast. Plus, you weren't gonna make it that easy for her.
You flashed a small smile, one that subtly copied hers, and rested the palms of your hands against her chest, not to push her away, but to establish a safe distance where you could negotiate.
ââI'm not gonna inflate your ego by giving you descriptions of your personality, Dani âyou said, your voice loaded with a confidence that caught her off guardâ. But I propose a deal.
ââA deal? âshe repeated, slurring the words in a highly amused toneâ. I'm all ears. What are you offering me in exchange for the dog-saver's precious number?
âYou give me back the paper with Frank's number âyou started, sliding your fingers subtly down her black t-shirtâ and I, in exchange, unblock you on my phone.
âDaniela let out a low chuckle, a raspy sound that vibrated right under the palms of your hands. âThat's it? âshe asked, tilting her headâ. I have to give you another guy's contact just to get mine back? That's a pretty unfair deal, baby. My number is worth at least double that electrician's.
ââTake it or leave it âyou shot back, standing your ground and narrowing your eyesâ. And if you leave it, I guarantee you that block becomes permanent.
âDaniela watched you in silence for a few seconds, weighing the seriousness on your face. Her eyes dropped for a moment to your lips and then came back up. She knew perfectly well that you held all the cards in this; she wasn't going to risk losing her only way of direct provocation when they weren't under the same roof.
âYou're a hazard when you want to be, you know that? âshe murmured.
She stuck her free hand into her pocket, pulled out the crumpled little paper, and held it between her fingers right in front of your face. âDeal âshe statedâ. But I want to see you do it. Right now.
âYou pulled your phone out of your back pants pocket, opened your blocked contacts list under her watchful eye, and, with a quick tap of your thumb, unblocked her number.
You showed her the screen as proof. âDone. Now give me the paper.
âDaniela smiled, pleased, and handed you the crumpled piece of paper. The second your fingers took it, she took a step forward again, closing the distance before you could react, and whispered in your ear: âDon't you ever block me again, preciosa.
âAnyone in your position would have been intimidated, or at least taken a step back.
But you had already had enough of her games for today.
With a speed she didn't even see coming, you raised your free hand, ran your fingers through her hair, and, with precision, grabbed her ear again, squeezing with just enough force to make her squirm.
âDaniela's mouth went wide open, ready to let out a shout of indignation or hit you back, but before she could make a single sound, you leaned forward and slammed your lips against hers in a quick, firm, and deliciously unexpected kiss.
It was a brief clash, a warm brush that left her completely speechless.
âYou pulled away with a smug smile, finally letting go of her ear. Daniela stayed motionless, processing what had just happened. Her ear was slightly red and she swallowed the physical pain with dignity.
âYou're crossing the line that you drew yourself âshe warned you, her voice a bit raspier than usual.
âYou slipped Frank's paper into your back pants pocket and gave her a shameless look up and down. âDon't worry, I wasn't planning on sucking it.
âDaniela opened her mouth, completely disarmed by the vulgarity and boldness of your comment. Her cheeks went from a pale tone to a bright pink in a split second.
âYou didn't let her finish. You turned around and got the hell out of the kitchen, walking up the stairs at a quick pace while laughing out loud at her face of absolute indignation. Leaving her speechless and wanting more was, definitely, your new favorite activity in that house.
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