Emiliana
It had been seven days. Seven days since it happened, since Giovanni had me against the wall, eliciting moans of pleasure to escape my mouth.
But it had also been a whole week of him ignoring me, icing me out completely like it meant nothing to him; like I meant nothing to him. I spent those several days reeling over what happened. Over that night and those emotions that were born from it.
Those seven days gave me distance and time to think. This wasn’t just lust, it was more. Unbottled, untrapped, hungry desire for someone that I couldn’t have. The connection between us felt right, yet I knew it wasn’t and I was too weak to see that. Once again I had let a man in and I only felt slight relief that it hadn’t gone any further.
I had
EmilianaFive masked men dressed in black with guns aimed at us marched into the room. A spray of bullets ricocheted through the air, tearing through the delicate drapes and bouncing off of the chandeliers above us. Screams pierced the atmosphere as we all scattered or froze.Amongst the chaos, I made out masked faces glancing around the room, repositioning their guns on every turn of their bodies.White fog began to spread across the floor, covering my ankles before rising up to my chest. I felt Naomi’s hand clasp mine, shaky fingers linked together as we stood frozen in fear.My lungs had completely lost their ability to function, I tried to look around but the thick mist was dizzying and suffocating. All I could see was the vague
Emiliana “Ho bisogno di asciugamani,” (I need towels.) Carlos’ companion ordered as he and Carlos guided Giovanni to the living room. Giovanni slumped in a bloody mess onto the couch, staining the covers and cushions instantly. I was standing frozen to the spot, while the raven haired stranger was on the phone, speaking fast and to the point. I watched like an outsider, unsure of what to do or where to put myself. The uneasy sensation I felt swirled around me, repeating in my stomach like I was on board a ship. All I heard was my name repeating over and over, the muffled sounds clearing through the static that invaded my ears. “Emiliana, dove sono i vostri asciugamani?” (Emiliana, where are your towels?) He shook me gently, urgency surging through, forcing me to meet his anxious gaze.
EmilianaThe hot water pounded at my back as I hung my head low under the shower head. Dried blood dripped down my face marring the clear water and circling the drain below. The blood still stained my hands, and reminded me of what happened days ago. How close I came to death, how close Giovanni had been at death’s door.Soap spilled through my hands, bubbling and foaming as I lathered my hands. I scrubbed the grime that had embedded in my skin, the hardened crimson dirt that lined my finger nails. I scrubbed and scraped at my fingers and hands, trying to rid the murky residue. No amount of water and soap seemed to be able to remove the scarlett muddiness.Tears blended with the cascade over my head, sobs left my lips, trembling as I scoured my skin to the brink of breaking it. My hands were raw,
EmilianaI laid beside Giovanni, listening to his shallow breaths and concentrating on each bead of sweat that traversed his forehead. It didn’t take long for Carlos to swiftly change the bandage. He was adamant about not wanting to move him, until he had been seen by the doctor.It had only taken twenty minutes for the doctor to arrive which had me questioning where the hell he had come from and more importantly, how much he was charging for such a rapid response?“Dagliele tre volte al giorno per una settimana.” (Give him these three times a day for a week.) The doctor handed the bottle of antibiotics to Carlos while I pressed a wet towel to Giovanni’s forehead, mopping up the beads of sweat.“Starà bene?” (Is he
EmilianaWith Giovanni out of action, Carlos had taken up his son’s responsibilities. I was yet to ask what he was doing in New York, and why he wasn’t at my Nona’s in Milan. But in between my urge to stay with Giovanni and working through my own torment, I hadn’t spent much time with Carlos.Having spent enough time off work and tending to his needs, Giovanni was almost begging me to return. I found it almost humorous that I was the one that was taking care of him after everything we had been through.“Verrò a prenderti alle sei.” (I will pick you up at six.) Carlos spoke as I exited the car.“Grazie.” I nodded my head and swung my bag over my shoulder.
Giovanni“What do you need?” I almost purred at her, but I couldn’t fight the interest and concern that found its way to my words. Emiliana fidgeted nervously in my lap, her ass seated around my crotch had me twitching.“You.” She whispered bashfully into my shoulder.“You have me.” I lifted her chin to meet my gaze, her breathing hitching slightly. I could see the light in her eyes, the lust she felt for me was palpable.“I want more.” Her words spurred me on, her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling me close. My hand glided up her covered thighs, listening to her breathing stagger as she closed her eyes. I relished in the feeling of being able to elicit such reactions from her but that was all I
EmilianaSleep didn’t come to me at all that night. While Giovanni seemed to function perfectly without me by his side, I, on the other hand, re-lived every awkward moment as I tossed and turned in my bed. There was no way I could crawl my way back into his arms now, he had made the divide between us clear and seeking comfort in his arms was no longer an option for me.I was still working through the multitude of emotions. I had never felt like this about anyone before, and just when I thought Giovanni was on the same wavelength as me, he had pushed me away. There was an undeniable constant push and pull that refused to settle between us. One minute we would be drawn to each other, so close to our lips touching that I could taste his breath. But all too soon, Giovanni would remind me that he had a job to do, and that left me with lingering d
Emiliana “So what do you want me to do?” Giovanni still had my chin between his fingers, his intense gaze had me feeling like I should crawl away from him, yet I didn’t want to. For once, Giovanni had no words. Nothing that could counter or answer my question. “Should I ignore you? Pretend whatever we’re feeling doesn’t exist?” A deep grimace plastered across my face at the possibility of him agreeing to my suggestion. But he didn’t provide that rejection, he only offered another excuse. “I told you, things will get complicated.” “I don’t care how complicated this gets, I want you and I’m not afraid to say it.” I wanted to plead with him, tell him he wasn’t the one in charge of my emotions but deep down I knew it was a battle I would lose sorely.