His Beautiful Amore

{7} Valentino

~Leata~

"Jingle bells,
Batman smells,
Robin laid an egg-"

"Shut up."

"You know, no one told you to sit with me. You're welcome to leave. So if you're going to be a sourwolf, I'd appreciate it if you would kindly fuck off."

"Shut up." Blake repeats, his eyes closed as he leans his head against the back of the bench, his face towards the sky.

"Fuck you."

"When? Where? What time? How hard? How fast? How good?"

I put my finger to my chin in fake thought. "Tonight. In your dreams. Midnight. Very. Really. Out of this world."

He opens his eyes and looks at me before shaking his head. "Only you, Amore. Only you."

*~*

"Hey, Hotness. Blake. Cake. Blake the Cake. Estupído. Idiota. Puta. Blakey Boy-"

"What?!" He pops his eyes open and gives me a bone chilling glare.

"Don't give me that look." I order. "It's scary."

His lips tug up a little before he looks emotionless again. "Do I scare you, Amore?"

I scoff. "No. You're face is just so scary that it belongs in a corn field, used to scare away the crows."

Lies. He's beautiful and you know it.

Yeah. Too beautiful.

He rolls his eyes. "Bitch."

"Bitches are dogs. Dogs bark. Bark is on trees. Trees are part of nature. Nature is beautiful. Thanks for the compliment, Hotness."

He stares at me for a while, as if studying me. "You are one of a kind, Amore."

"Well, yeah." I say in a 'duh' tone. "There's only one Leata Summer Hale in this world."

"Like I said, one of a kind." He shakes his head, mumbling. "Your middle name's Summer?"

"Yeah. After my grandmother. Rose has the second part of her name, which is Storm." I tell him.

"Your grandmother's name is...Summer-Storm?" He trails off slowly. "What? Was she born in the middle of a storm in the summer?"

"No. Great grandma Aria wanted to name her Summer and great grandpa Kiev wanted to name her Storm, so they mashed the names together and created Summer-Storm." I explain. "What's your middle name?"

He stays quiet for a moment before answering. "Valentino."

"Blake Valentino DeAngelo." It rolls right off my tongue as I test it out. "I like it."

"My dad chose it." He explains quietly.

I look at him and see sadness pooling in his dark eyes.

"Blake? Are you alright?"

He shakes his head as if breaking out of a trance.

He glares at me. "I'm fine. Mind your own business."

And he gets up and walks away.

What the hell? Bipolar even.

Blake Valentino DeAngelo, you are a puzzle.

And I'm willing to solve you.