SILVIO
I didn't know the first thing about caring for a woman. Goddamn it, I didn't know the first thing about caring for this woman.
No matter what I did—no matter how quickly I escaped, or how close I came to slipping into the car, I couldn't escape the woman. I couldn't get far away from her to be able to breathe properly.
It was so goddamn impossible. She was always there. Existing. It started slowly, almost intense like a rush of aching love.
She walked in the room, smiling like always with this look of trust in her eyes always directed at everyone but never me. And then she laughed, loudly. Head tipping back, her eyes on the ceiling sparkling with little shards of honey brown pools.
A feeling of intensity rushed through me almost painful in the way of being unbearable but wanting to experience everything it offered.
I always wondered if she felt this invisible thread between us as well, this spark burning whenever either of us walked into the room. If she ran away from me every time because I tugged at it too hard.
Because it always hurt whenever she got closer, and whenever she left.
I bit harder and harder, and she dug into me, deeper and deeper. And for the first time in my years of living on this goddamn world, she was leaving me raw and exposed. With no protection.
I'd told myself I wouldn't cross the line anymore. I'd crossed the line last week when I showed her a little bit of my world, shared personal information with her and answered her questions.
I planned to keep my distance when I got back from my trip, ignoring the urge to call and check in on her every time she crossed my mind.
Translation: Every single hour of every damn day.
I couldn't help myself again on the last day of my trip, cutting the meeting short by two days to make it back to see her.
I was slowly finding out I had never denied myself of anything in this world except her.
I stood awkwardly by the isle of the store, my gaze shifting down all the options of tampons. Which one? Was I supposed to get all of them?
I instructed Tommaso to drop Presley back at the apartment and I sought out to buy her tampons.
She'd confessed that she was out of feminine products and initially, I would have ordered Tommaso to fetch them but Presley didn't feel comfortable.
She didn't want to make Tommaso uncomfortable and offered to buy it herself but I disagreed.
Why the hell would she have to do that if she had me? For fucks sake, I was her damn fiancé. Fake or not, she wore my goddamn rings on her finger.
As I was about to reach over and decide on a certain size or type of tampon, my cellphone began to vibrate, causing me to pause.
My eyes slid over the screen taking note of the commander of the message which was Presley.
Angel: are you allergic to any type of dogs?
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Silvio: No. Why?
Angel: I was thinking of getting one :)
Amusement filled me and I didn't know whether to be shocked or expectant.
Silvio: What kind?
Angel: a little chocolate labrador retriever.
I was a little interested in her desire for a dog; I'd always known her to love playing and hanging with Wolf and Growl but she'd never expressed her feelings for owning a dog.
I didn't mind though, I wasn't complaining because if a small furry animal could comfort her whenever I wasn't around then who the hell was I to stand in the way of that?
Perhaps this little obsession of mine with Presley was utterly, and madly insane but I couldn't find it in myself to save myself from going too far close to the shoreline.
Everything about her was so fucking addictive.
I responded with an "okay" and slipped my cellphone back into the breast pocket of my suit.
Dragging a gloved hand through my thick beard, I exhaled heavily and twisted my mouth. Which one was I supposed to get?
I knew nothing about women, nothing about the fucking menstrual cycle and the only way I guessed she was experiencing cramps was because I'd been around Finley and knew the telltale signs of her period.
My first instinct was to call Beast because if anything, he knew the inner workings of a woman but I didn't. I wanted to be the one to comfort her and bring back that soft smile on her face.
I was silently thinking for a minute before deciding to buy one of each brand of tampon. I threw all the packs of tampons into the cart, along with a tub of different flavors of ice cream, chocolate and whatever the hell women loved eating on their period.
Thirty minutes later, I pulled into the underground parking of the building and slipped out the elevator with a handful of shopping bags.
My eyes flickered back at the doorknob of Presley's apartment and I came to a full stop, catching a glimpse of something unusual. Was it always unlocked?
Tommaso was behind me, silently observing where my gaze was directed towards. I knew he was thinking the same thing I was. She wasn't safe anywhere and I was beginning to think she never would be unless this person was dead.
"Devo configurare le telecamere?" His rough, gruff voice asked from behind me. Cameras were a smart move but I figured the man knew how to hide his face given he was able to deliver pictures of her and all of this was possible given his entrance into her apartment.
"Should I set up cameras?"
Cameras wouldn't work.
I shook my head slowly. "No. Continua a guardarla. Voglio una lista di ogni singola persona con cui ha parlato." I instructed, my tone commanding and I shifted my gaze away, willing my body to move away from her apartment door.
