Realistic or Modern ❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐈𝐍' 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 ❞

[stilinski.]

summertime, and the loving's easy
bradley's on the microphone with ras mg
and all the people in the dance will agree
that we're well qualified to represent the l.b.c. !

closed 1x1 between stilinski. and thirteen ​

 

[stilinski.]

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baby, when you
broke my heart

[div class=name]elio santarossa

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tags: thirteen
location: the santarossa mansion
mood: irritable ; bored ; tired
interactions: everett santarossa. roberto santarossa. pending, serena evers.
soundtrack: hate my guts — blackbear.

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Elio didn't want to be here. Anywhere but here, he would have loved to be, but no. Roberto — Elio refused to call him dad, much less father. It didn't feel normal to him — had asked for his presence down in the main kitchen, and Elio was taking his sweet time. He had a gut feeling that this wasn't gonna be good. Everett was at the mansion for the weekend, which was a blessing and a curse all wrapped into one. At least Ben wasn't there. Then Elio wouldn't have to deal with hearing his older brother — nope. That's a route his brain most certainly does not need to go down, especially at nine in the morning. Or ever.

A loud sigh left his lips as he slowly sat up in his bed, the morning sunlight peeking in through his curtains, awaking the room in an almost golden glow. He could appreciate a good sunrise, that was true. But being stuck in the mansion all the time, the house that never felt like a home, it almost dulled it. He swung his feet over the bed, heading over to his closet and decided that if he was going to get out of bed, he might as well look good while doing it. Black jeans, red silk shirt bought with money that his father most likely gained from another raid on a different crime family in the city. He wasn't sure what it said about him, the fact that thinking about things like that could no longer phase him.

The Santarossa crime family was a fairly territorial one, something that still confused Elio. It shouldn't considering he was the son of the Don and therefore knew a lot about the operations going on within the family, but again, Elio was either too hungover to care, or too out of it. It normally leaned towards the former. As he cleaned himself up, got dressed, he settled into the fact that whatever Roberto was going to tell him, he wasn't gonna be happy with it. That's normally how these things went, anyways.

The door to his room was shut silently behind him, Elio slowly making his way down the hall. He noticed that the door to the room that was designated as Everett's when he came to visit was wide open. A peek inside showed that Everett wasn't inside, but the bed was unmade as if it was Ev's one act of rebellion while he was here. Elio truly missed his older brother, but he knew that Ev was happy in his apartment with Ben, and Elio couldn't intrude on that. The only reason that Everett came back, truthfully, was because Ben was out of town, visiting family in California, and Everett would have gone insane in their apartment on his own.

Elio didn't blame him.

He made his way down the stairs, his shoes ridiculously loud in the staircase as if they wanted to announce his every step. A walk into the kitchen confirmed the weird feeling in his stomach that he felt earlier. Everett was sat at the kitchen table, nursing a cup of coffee, their parents sitting on opposite ends of the table, looking every inch the immaculate and put together couple that Elio knew they weren't. Cowards. Posers.

Alexandra didn't seem phased, setting her coffee cup (the red lipstick stains seemed almost permanent at this point, but he knew that his mother would pitch a fit if her china wasn't sparkling white) down on the table, offering Elio a sweet smile. Fake. Roberto looked up from the newspaper, Elio feeling as if his father was skinning him alive with his gaze. "We have someone you should meet, Elio. She's in the next room over, with Arthur."

Arthur was Roberto's bodyguard, and the fact that Elio knew that should have made him even more tense. Everett gave him an apologetic look from the table as Roberto stood up, and Elio just shook his head, a silent way to say drop it, we'll talk later. All that Elio could think about though was 'why is the person I'm meeting with Arthur?' If they were with Arthur, who was the only one who knew most of Roberto's secrets, ones he wouldn't even tell his wife, then it had to mean something important. Arthur didn't meet with anybody unless it was to add to their ranks.

That thought made the uneasy feeling that once settled in his stomach return in full force, and as he walked into the room, following a good few feet behind Roberto, his concerns were confirmed. A woman — a girl, she couldn't have been any older than Elio was — was standing next to Arthur, tough-looking and glaring at Elio as if he was scum.

"This is your bodyguard, Serena. She's going to prevent a debacle like January was from happening again, yes?" Roberto said, and Elio felt his heart fall out of his stomach. No. God, no. This was absolutely not happening. Elio knew everything about January, and he guessed that this girl — Serena, whatever — knew everything about it too.

"Elio. Elio Santarossa." Elio spoke, his Italian accent, one he worked so hard to get rid of, showing up a little bit. He knew his father would scold him as if he was ten, not twenty-one, if he wasn't polite, didn't introduce himself. As if this girl hadn't already been debriefed on everything about Elio, from the alcoholism to the tendency to find solace in someone else's arms every single night. He didn't offer his hand out to shake. This was great. Just. Freaking great.

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coded by luna.

 

[thirteen]

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[div class=tag]tags[/div] stilinski.
[div class=tag]interactions[/div] daddy santarossa / elio / arthur
[div class=tag]mentions[/div] daddy santarossa / elio / arthur
[div class=tag]mood[/div] irritated, tired
[div class=tag]location[/div] superweirdroomTM
[div class=tag]current song[/div] pray for me
[div class=tag]outfit[/div] here!
[div class=tag]"i'm always ready to take a life again."[/div]
[/div] [/div] [/div] [div class=right] [div class=scroll] Brick by brick. That was the first thing that crossed her mind when she had been escorted inside the house, her eyes skillfully observing the delicate crown moldings and chandeliers that only a rich person could afford. Brick by brick, she would take this mansion down, and she'd laugh while doing so. A clearing of a throat had brought her attention back to the situation at hand, and she had realized that she had been escorted into another room--not quite the dining or the living room. Serena knew damn well why she was here--she was supposed to be a bodyguard to the Santarossa family's son, the only heir. The other brother had been...somewhat of a lost cause, she had heard, and now Roberto's last hope resided with his other spawn. Apparently the kid had had a bit of a rough time, ending up in a suicide attempt last January, and to prevent that, Roberto was asking for her help.

Music to her ears. She longed for the day the man had nothing but a look of horror on his face, the sense that everything around him that he had taken for granted was decaying--all because of her. She wished to see him on his knees with tears running down his prideful face, useless and utterly broken. It was only fair. Serena blinked once more and cursed herself for allowing her mind to wander so much. What kind of bodyguard would she be if she couldn't even control her attention? She glanced up at the silent man who was studying her (Arthur, Roberto had called him before the Don had slipped away) and raised a brow. "You don't talk much, do you?" She asked, and didn't get a response in return. "Fine by me." Silence was more than pleasant for her, she preferred it to useless chatter.

Where was this kid? If anything, Serena was starting to get irritated even more. Punctuality was a must. This wealthy-as-fuck family could afford a watch, surely they could spare the time out of their busy days to glance at it once in a while. The young woman crossed her leather-clad arms, shifting in her dark boots. She hadn't been sure in the morning whether or not she should have dressed professionally, so she had chosen a pair of black jeans, a shirt and jacket of the same color. Based on the way Roberto's lips had tightened when seeing her, she felt an odd surge of pride at pissing him off. Whatever. She didn't have enough money to own a suit or anything of the likes anyways. A pantsuit would have been much more preferable--they were rather comfortable.

Serena shifted her weight to her right, a bit impatient, but luckily, she wasn't waiting any longer than that. Roberto re-entered the room with his son trailing a few steps behind him. She studied the other with a scrutinizing gaze, noting the silk shirt, the Italian accent, and the composure. Hm, looks like they'd both be doing anything other than spending time with each other. Sucked for him, she was getting paid for this. Serena realized that she was glaring a bit too late and smoothed her expression into a blank one--she needed to be emotionless for this job. Her inner hatred needed to be cleverly concealed--atleast until she had leverage and power to actually make a move.

It would be rude to not introduce herself back, but the bastard Roberto had already introduced her. "Nice to meet you, sir." She said with a curt nod. She shifted her hands so they were no longer crossed in front of her, but rather neatly tucked behind her. Her chin tilted upwards, her shoulders stiffening, and she looked the part of a bodyguard--well, as close as she'd ever get. She met Roberto's eyes carefully, making sure that she wasn't accidentally squinting or something. "Sir--what are your parameters for my job?" The father ran the family--might as well get his input on things. Besides, she wasn't quite sure who she was protecting Santarossa junior from--what would her living circumstances be? How much was she getting paid? So many questions floated to the top of her brain, but she was sure that the man would catch on and answer her questions.

She'd ask Santarossa junior what he wanted, but a bit later, out of earshot of his parents. Basing her judgement on his appearance and the way he carried himself, she had already deemed him to be unlikable: a spoiled brat following in the footsteps of his father. He'd probably throw a fit about having a bodyguard, a female one at that, and expect daddy to come running to fix it. Ha! Fat chance. But it was professional courtesy to ask, and she'd adhere to that until her final breath. Just because she was around uncultured swine didn't mean she had to drop to her knees and oink as well.

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coded by shady.

 

[thirteen]

- deserted by opposing party. rp is no longer active. -​