When all of this unravels, will she leave me?
"I want you again." I cover her body with mine in bed.
She smiles lazily. "You said you love me."
"Yes, I did, Alessia.”
"Tell me again."
She hasn't said the words, but I see them in her eyes. She looks at me like I'm it. Like there's nothing else she needs.
"Ti amo," I say as I enter her. “I love you,”
She convulses beneath me, her inner walls gripping me as I drive deeper.
"Nico," she gasps, her nails breaking skin on my shoulders, her gaze burning into mine. "I love you, too."
The words detonate inside me.
Three syllables that shatter everything I thought I knew. I freeze mid-thrust, my entire body trembling with the war between desire and terror.
Her confession rips me open, exposing every nerve ending I've spent a lifetime armoring. But watching her pupils dilate as I growl those words again—I love you—makes me want to both flee and bleed for her.
What if I ruin this? What if this is another lie I'm telling myself?
"Again," I demand, my voice like gravel scraped over raw flesh.
"Ti amo, Niccolò."
I devour her mouth with mine, consuming her words like a starving man, needing them to become part of me before I can doubt them again.
Our souls collide.
We're ripping each other open, seeing the parts we've hidden from everyone else. When she says she loves me, it's like hearing words I've been waiting for my entire life without knowing it.
Her body writhes beneath mine, hips rising to meet each thrust. I can't get deep enough. Can't get close enough. The need to possess her completely overwhelms me.
"Ti amerò per sempre," I whisper. “I will love you forever.”
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling my face to hers. Her eyes are glossy with tears, but her smile is radiant.
"Promise me," she demands.
"I promise," I vow, sealing it with a kiss that tastes of salt and truth. "You're everything."
I lose myself in the rhythm of our bodies, in the sweet, slick friction where we're joined. Her body welcomes me like I'm coming home after years at sea, and maybe I am—I've been adrift my whole life until her.
"I was afraid," I confess, my hips still moving, slower now, savoring every inch of her. "That you wouldn't say it back."
She wraps her legs tighter around my waist, pulling me deeper. "I've felt it for so long," she whispers. "But I was scared, too."
Her admission makes my chest ache. We're the same, both of us hiding behind our walls, pretending we didn't need this. Pretending we could walk away unscathed.
"We're a fucking mess." I laugh against her throat, tasting the faint salt of her skin, warm from exertion.
"A beautiful mess," she amends, merriment bubbling up from somewhere deep inside her.
Her fingers trace patterns on my back, nails occasionally digging in when I hit that spot that makes her gasp.
