"Matteo? Matteo? It's time to go to bed." Matteo heard someone call him in a whisper next to his ear. In fact, it had been a while since anyone had used that tone of voice with him, something careful and gentle, soft, trying to wake him up without scaring him. Then, someone's hand touched his shoulder, heavy but comforting as it slid and rested on his back, moving him and helping him to get up gently from the couch.

Matteo opened his eyes slowly, and this time he didn't react as he had expected. It was Mr. Moore, of course, in a designer black suit and smelling so good that Matteo found himself leaning toward the man, watching his dark hair slicked back and the stubble that was already growing out tickle his fingertips.

How did he know that? Well... maybe he touched Mr. Moore's face, fingering the skin as he tried to sit up and face whoever was calling him. And maybe he kept his hand there a little longer than necessary, just a small error of course, you know, right? That was all. The good thing about all this was that Mr. Moore didn't seem to mind; he smiled at Matteo and held out his hand so he could stand up, guiding him by the middle of his back as they walked through the house. And Matteo, with the biggest blank face he could muster, finally sat up straight on the couch and followed him, doing his best to pretend nothing was happening. Now, why this man kept catching him in this situation, Matteo couldn't explain.

“Bed?” Matteo finally muttered. He rubbed his eyes and tried to think of what bed that was.

"It's already two in the morning. I'm sorry the meeting lasted longer than I intended. And thank you for the food.”

"Ah… then I… I think I’ll go.”

"No, you can use the guest room. Please.”

Mr. Moore didn't give any other excuse or try to explain why Matteo should sleep there. No, the man just stated like it was obvious that he would obey. And that was it, simple as that, things were resolved. Matteo thought about arguing, about saying that they shouldn't do this, but ... but he knew that things would be easier if he just accepted it and since Matteo didn't have the right to choose, he shrugged; after all, what could be wrong with sleeping a night away from home? "That's it. No problem", he thought again. Matteo would have to wake up early and be there at seven, so... just this once... just once... it was okay. Right?

Feeling his body go limp, he let Mr. Moore hold him by the shoulders and continue to guide him through the house.

"Are you hungry?" Mr. Moore asked him.

Matteo blinked slowly, trying to think and turned to him, seeing the man's smile returning in full force.

Oh, it was true! He had forgotten.

"I made soup.”

“Did you make soup?” Mr. Moore repeated, as if to make sure.

"It's in the fridge.”

Okay, this wasn't even that strange of a situation, right? It must be a normal thing to have dinner with your boss…? Matteo shook his head and decided not to do anything else inappropriate, he sat down near the kitchen counter, while still smiling Mr. Moore walked over to the fridge, opening it. And inside, as Matteo had said, there was a giant container full of vegetable soup and one with the rest of the food he had bought.

Mr. Moore, clearly surprised, picked up the container and opened it, inhaling the aroma.

“Are these real vegetables?" Mr. Moore asks even more surprised, realizing that it wasn't the instant soup type.

"Isn't that how you make soup? Did you know there was no food for the children?" He murmured uncertainty.

"Nah. We have frozen food.”

"Ah." Matteo said.

He wanted to tell him that frozen food was horrible and unhealthy. But of course he didn’t say what he thought. Instead, he watched as the man scooped out some of the soup, put it in a deep dish, microwaved it, and then sat down across from him, taking the first spoonful. When Matteo said this, he wasn’t joking; Mr. Moore closed his eyes contentedly and groaned so loudly that he felt like he had reached heaven.

"Mr. Rossi Pagano, who would have thought! You are full of surprises. What else can you do?”

And didn't the question sound… strangely dubious? Matteo felt the sleep dissipating faster than a rocket as his face caught fire. He couldn't help it, it was something physical, he felt his skin heating up and sweating and his heart racing for some reason. It wasn't his fault that Mr. Moore looked at him like that, the man's smile looking… slightly different.

"Anything. Food, desserts, and pasta. My mother…" He swallowed and cleared his throat, feeling his throat close up for some reason he couldn't understand. "She learned it from her mother. And since my sisters aren't interested… I like to spend my time helping her.”

He shrugged, it wasn't that unusual. The difference was that he preferred to stay at home while other children ran around the fields playing.

"How old are you again?”

It was the exact moment when Matteo realized that the questionnaire was returning with full force.

"I wanted to talk to you about this.”

"Please, call me Derek.”

"Okay, Derek. Could you stop with these interrogations?" Matteo spoke as seriously as he could. He straightened his spine, placed his hands on the counter and added, so as not to seem too rude: "Please. If you want to know anything, just tell me. I have nothing to hide.”

Facing him head on, Mr. Moore, I mean, Derek, placed the spoon over the plate and leaned in close to him, getting a little too close.

"What is it?" Matteo had to ask.

"Okay. I'll ask the kids to stop. But you have to be honest with me.”

"Right…?”

He saw Derek take a deep breath and couldn't believe what he heard next:

"How did you find the ad? Do you study? What do you plan to do in the future? How are you so good with children? How old are you? Where does your family come from? And about--”

"W-what? Wait a minute! They didn't give you that information?”

"Give me information? I don't even know who they are!”

"Oh." Now he understood.

"I had no choice! The girl who cleaned the house quit right after the nanny was fired. I really had no choice. You know how hard it is to take care of children…”

Matteo put his arm on the counter and rested his head on it, watching Derek huff angrily, trying not to laugh in the man's face, and only when he was sure Derek was finished, he replied:

"So… I’m twenty years old. I’ve been studying law at community college on the weekends and working during the week to pay for college since I was seventeen.”

"Oh." It was Derek's turn to mutter.

"My family is from Italy, we came here when my paternal grandfather died a few years ago and as my father has no brothers, he took responsibility for the family business.”

“Shouldn't he pay for your college?" Derek said.

"We… we don't get along very well. He thinks doing Law School is a waste of time.”

"I see you like children…”

Matteo shrugged again.

"I helped my mother at home. Children are… pure and they don’t lie. They are better company than many adults.”

After that… Matteo wasn't sure of anything anymore. Mr. Moore, I mean, Derek, continued eating his soup while Matteo just stood there thinking that, after all, Derek had a reason to act that way, waiting for Derek to finish his dinner. He knew he didn't need to wait and he even knew where the room was, Matteo just… he just didn't want to move, feeling that drowsiness return. It was more interesting to stay where he was, feeling sleep come back to him minute by minute, the movement Derek made with the spoon seeming almost hypnotic, raising and lowering it, until the plate was empty and Derek had leaned against the seat of the chair.

"You know tomorrow is Saturday, don't you?”

“Is that so?" He had completely forgotten.

"And, in this house, no one wakes up early on the weekend.”

"Hmm.”

"So, if you want to take a shower and sleep until noon…”

"Oh. Right.”

Matteo stopped looking at Derek's hands and looked up at his eyes. He was confused... was Derek inviting him as a guest? The man looked so different from before that he seemed like a completely changed person. Matteo didn't know if he liked this, this quick change, and he still didn't know if it was right for a person who provided a service to sleep in his employer's house.

"I have no clean clothes.”

"I'll lend you some. Look, I can't let you go out at this time. So be a good boy and obey me, okay?”

So, Derek got up, washed his own plate and on the way out he pulled him by the hand. Matteo found himself with no choice but to follow him like a sleepy puppy, like he were being guided by a leash, completely obedient and without saying a single word.