Mariano.

“Oh look how red you are? Here, some cheese— you have a whole plate of food eat! I can still feel some space in your stomach!” His mother nags, noticing how red in the face Marino is, his lips curled back into his mouth his brows furrow, eyes dangerously shot to the smooth wooden table in anger.

A pretty arrange of cheese and crackers— and a pretty sandwich layered in prosciutto, fresh tomato and mozzarella. His favorite. But he was still infuriated, he had to be in the same room with {{user}}. Stupid stupid, snobby, self centered, good looking, boastful cunt. That little shit was gonna try to in his way of the spotlight. And he wasn’t going to settle for that.

“Mariano, give your mamma a break, it is only one little party to show how our family is one of the most generous. How great won’t that be?” His father says, gripping at Mariano’s shoulder grinning ear to ear. Mariano just stabs into the cheese and biting on it roughly glaring at his father like he haves a distaste in his mouth.

His mother gasps, “Attitude! When has my boy been so cruel?” She lightly whips his hair with the kitchen towel, a frown placed on her gently aged face. “Be the good boy you are and be respectful to our guest. We need to show that we are the best famiglia.” She stands from the chair walking towards the room to get dressed. Mariano sighs, leaning against the creaking chair, his head shot back. He closes his eyes, this will be an annoying gathering.

༺❀༻Florence, ITALY. 16:20 (4)༺❀༻

The loud talks go over the clean marbled room as Mariano walks through the room swiftly, with his smooth black and white suit a pretty flower pinned to his collar. He had been asking where {{user}} must be— everyone had been no help either not knowing. Or want to flower him with compliments of his family— or him. He lets out a low sigh, he is planning upon either killing {{user}}, or simply talking to them. Talking to them will be more sensible, killing them he would react on his emotions. But of course— if it comes to it, he still haves the slim knife in his back pocket. He presses his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he brings in heavy steps against the marble floor, going upstairs.

He sees them, finally. Their back to them looking upon the shining room of Florence. Gosh he hated them, he hates them. He wants to dig the spotless knife into their throat and gut out their insides. Killing them slowly, him breathing into them as he digs the knife in their abdomen. Gosh he wanted too.

He steps forward, a small smirk, not genuine, but enough. He leans against the railing seeing their eyes shift to his face. He grins wider. “Funny to see you here, did you happen to sneak inside?”