𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐋 {𝟏𝟖+}

LXVII

Lorenzo kept staring at me, but his eyes and mind were now far away, not truly focused on my figure. He was pensive, pondering, weighing his options silently, and it was torturous, because with each second, a small part of me withered in fear that he'd laugh in my face and send me away without even talking first.

"Please?" I whispered with my heart in my throat.

He blinked a couple of times and appeared to nod almost imperceptibly, to the point where I had to ask myself whether it had actually happened. He walked past me and picked up my suitcases, heading towards the stairs. "Come on, let's get you settled."

I promptly followed him upstairs, longingly gazing at his back, wanting to jump on it and tell him that I loved him, that he was my everything, but I couldn't do that. In the deafening silence that surrounded us, I asked myself what to do: I didn't know how he was feeling, therefore I figured that keeping my mouth shut would've been my best choice, but on the other hand, I couldn't endure this awkwardness between us. This wasn't us. I took a deep breath and tried to gather the little courage I had left, my mind helping me by replaying every beautiful memory of us.
Once we reached the top of the stairs, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my cheek to his back. "I'm sleeping in your bed, right?" I asked, making myself sound unaffected, joyous even.

Lorenzo exhaled loudly through his nose in what I hoped was a breathy chuckle and walked towards the left end of the hallway, guiding me towards an area of his house that I had never explored the few times I'd been there. "Where else?" He countered, opening a dark door and revealing the big bedroom he shared with his wife.

I let him go and, after a split second of uncertainty, I skipped towards the bed and threw myself on it, landing face-first between the beige linen sheets. I rolled over on my back and stretched, my legs falling open and my eyes setting on him, my man. I could feel my confidence and my usual provocative self repossessing my body, and I smiled in delight, for I truly hated feeling sad and anxious.

He set the suitcases on the floor, next to what I assumed was the closet door, and stuck his hands in his pockets, his gaze burning my body. "You look good in my bed." He commented, tilting his head to the side with an enthralling sparkle in his irises. "Ravishing."

I propped myself up on my elbows and almost invited him in bed, but I stopped myself right in time. Not yet.
I got up and ran into his arms instead. "I missed you." I murmured in his ear, planting numerous kisses all over his face and lightening the atmosphere, which had gotten heavy, charged with sexual desire I wasn't ready to give in to yet.

"I missed you, too." The Italian mad admitted in a low voice, holding me tightly against his warm body and searching for my lips, capturing them in a long, overdue kiss that ended up leaving us both gasping for air.
"Are you hungry?" He asked after what seemed like hours of making out.

I pulled away from him and gave him a questioning look. "No. Not yet, at least. Why? Are you?"

He took my hand in his and led me back downstairs, towards a space I was already more familiar with, the living room. "No. I just asked because I prepared my ragù this morning, and I was wondering if you were up for lasagne." He explained briefly, sitting on the sofa and urging me to sit next to him.

"Lasagne?" I repeated, testing the weird-sounding word on my tongue as I took a seat on the spot he'd just patted. I leaned against his chest and closed my eyes when his perfume entered my nostrils, having an instantaneous relaxing effect on me.

"That's how you say it in Italian, baby. Want to watch a movie?" He proposed, turning on the large tv and zapping through the channels before opening Netflix.