Felix Moretti – Age 23
The soft notes of the piano drifted through the upstairs room, delicate and warm like whispers against the cool evening air.
Felix's fingers moved slowly across the keys — not practicing, just playing.
Something gentle. Something that made the silence feel a little less empty.
Outside the open window, the sky was sinking into dusk — that deep blue hour when everything feels quiet, like the world is holding its breath.
He wore his suit already. Pressed. Perfect. A dark navy jacket, crisp shirt beneath. His tie hung loose around his neck, not yet fastened. There was time.
He didn't know what kind of evening it would be. But still — he wanted to look good for him.
Please, don't cancel this time…
Knock knock.
The sound was soft, respectful. The door cracked open and one of the house staff leaned in.
"Mr. Felix, Don Matteo is ready."
Felix's fingers stilled on the piano.
That name. Just hearing it sent a flicker through his chest — quiet, foolish excitement he tried not to let show too easily.
"…Okay," he said, voice calm. "I'll be right there."
He stood slowly, smoothing down his sleeves, catching his own reflection in the nearby mirror. Neat. Composed.
But his pulse said otherwise.
Don Matteo Romano Luciano – Age 28
He stood in front of the tall mirror in the main room, still struggling with the tie.
He'd done it a thousand times, but somehow tonight it refused to sit right — or maybe he just didn't care enough to get it perfect.
Matteo exhaled through his nose, jaw tightening slightly.
His long hair was tied back low, sharp features half-lit by the chandelier above.
Behind him, the sound of slow footsteps descending the stairs caught his attention, but he didn't turn.
He already knew who it was.
"Still can't tie it?"
Felix's voice came softly from behind him — light, teasing, but careful. Always careful.
Before Matteo could respond, Felix stepped around, closing the distance between them.
His hands reached for the silk of the tie without hesitation, fingers brushing Matteo's chest as he straightened the knot.
"You pull too hard," Felix murmured, more to the tie than to him. "It ends up uneven."
Matteo didn't move. Didn't flinch.
But his eyes dropped slightly — watching those slender fingers work, steady and practiced.
So close, he could smell Felix's cologne — soft, not sharp like his own. Something warm. Something human.
In just a few seconds, it was done.
Felix stepped back and looked up at him with a small smile — proud, quiet, hopeful.
"There," he said. "Perfect."
Matteo nodded once. "Hmmm."
Just that. Nothing more.
But his tie… it felt different now. Like it carried something.
Felix took a breath, smoothing the front of his jacket. His voice was gentle when he asked,
"Shall we go?"
Matteo didn't answer.
Just a curt nod — then he turned toward the front door.
But before he could take a full step, his phone buzzed sharply in his hand.
He checked the screen, then answered.
His tone shifted — businesslike, low.
"I'll be there now."
Felix blinked, just watching him.
Matteo turned slightly, speaking to the man standing discreetly by the hallway.
"Tell him to start the car."
The bodyguard nodded and disappeared through the door.
Felix stepped forward, just a little.
"But we have a date tonight," he said quietly.
His voice wasn't accusing. Just… reminding. Hoping.
Matteo didn't look at him when he replied.
"This is important," he said. "We can set the date again."
Again.
Just like last month.
Just like the month before.
Felix didn't say anything. He only nodded — the same way Matteo had done minutes earlier.
Felix hesitated, then spoke — softly, but this time without hiding the weight in his voice.
"You always do this when it's our date…"
Matteo paused, hand still on the doorknob.
Felix continued, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You cancel. You never say sorry. It's like it doesn't matter to you… like I don't."
The silence that followed stretched too long.
Finally, Matteo turned his head slightly — just enough to be heard.
"I told you — this is important."
His voice was calm. Cold. Detached.
"You knew what this was when we got engaged."
And then, without warning, he reached up and pulled the tie from his collar.
With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it aside — the silk landing across the edge of the mirror where he had once stood.
Then he opened the door and walked out.
And for a second, he wished he hadn't said anything at all.
Felix stood still in the quiet that followed, the words lingering in the air like smoke.
His eyes drifted to the tie.
He stepped toward it slowly. Picked it up with both hands.
The fabric was still warm. Still carried his touch.
He stared at it for a long moment — not saying anything. Not moving. Just holding it.
Then, without another breath, he turned and rushed back up the stairs — faster than before — and pushed into his room.
Bang.
The door slammed shut behind him, the echo rattling the silence he had left behind.
He didn't cry. Didn't even sit.
He crossed the room, sat down at the piano again, and let his fingers fall onto the keys — not gently this time.
The melody that followed wasn't soft or pretty. It was sharp. Rushed. Cracked with something that had been quiet for too long.
Anger. Hurt. Something he didn't have words for — but the piano didn't need words.
He kept playing, even as the notes bled into each other.
Somewhere inside him, something kept whispering:
Why do I keep waiting for you?
But the keys had no answer.