Until I Wrote Him
For a second, she doesn’t fix it, just lets it happen, eyes half-closed, the sea’s hum blending with the beating of my pulse.
I forget Fabiano exists.
The world narrows to the curve of her mouth and the faint rise of her chest as she breathes.
Then Fabiano ruins it, of course.
“Attenzione, amore!” he calls. “You’ll make my friend drown standing on dry land.”
India blinks, startled, and turns to me. My jaw’s already tight, my gaze tearing away from her.
“God, Fabiano,” I mutter.
He raises both hands. “What? I merely comment on what is already visible. There is love in the air!”