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Should I be afraid of you?
Mikhail:
Do you want to be afraid of me?
I looked at my phone for a while again, waiting for her response. That was a game I wasn't used to. Worried about mafia matters, focused on carrying out missions in my father's name, I never had a steady woman, just distractions and is that what Pietra would be for me too?
Pietra:
No, I don’t.
Mikhail:
Then don’t be.
I went to the top of the messaging app and pressed the button for a video call. I had an old memory of her, and I wanted to see her in person, to know how time had influenced her face.
Again, I waited too long, until she accepted.
Her brown eyes were the first to catch my attention. She was tense and bit her lips, making them even redder. When I looked at her face on my cell phone screen, my suspicions were confirmed, and I realized that she had become even more beautiful than I imagined.
The silence lasted endless minutes, while I admired her face and she mine. I wanted our proximity to go beyond that screen and for me to be able to touch her directly. Maybe it was because of the risk, but no other woman had attracted my attention as much as that one.
“You are crazy! You shouldn't call me like that...”
“No? I wanted to see you, I imagined you wanted to see me too.”
“It's risky. What if someone hears us?”
“Get headphones, I'll wait.”
She nodded and for a while the image I saw was the ceiling of her room, the white walls and the plaster details.
I was not a teenager, but a man who knew very well what he wanted. Pietra Bellucci had been the target of my desiressince that party and this desire only increased when I looked directly at her.
“Done.” Her face appeared again, speaking more quietly. “You—” she held her breath, as if she were taking a breath. “—are exactly as I remembered.”
“You've become even more beautiful.”
“I...” I noticed her cheeks blush and she looked away.
“You?”
“I kept thinking about how you were now. If you’d be alive.”
“So, I wasn't the only one who thought about you.”
“Did you think of me?” She seemed surprised.
“Yes.”
“This is crazy.”
“It may be more common than we imagine.”
She ran her hand over her face and tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. I noticed her eyes moving as she examined my face.
If Pietra had been closer, my hands would already be roaming her body and I would have pulled her towards me, however, the thousands of miles from Moscow to Rome were not our only obstacle.
