Issues

15

Amora Dior.

She is only 18. I keep telling myself.

She's 18.

Barely an adult. But yet again barely a teenager.

Why can't she get out of my goddamn head? As much as I try to stay away from here, it's like the universe is trying to pull us in.

I kept my distance but I found myself leading towards her. She's 18. Her eyes. I can't stop thinking about her eyes.

one being the gorgeous blue with a hint of green. The other is the same as mine, brown.

"You can't just go ahead and fucking destroy everything, just for a girl. You're going fucking weak." My brother snaps at me.

"Luca." I say.

"What it's true?" He rolls his eyes.

Luca Romano, my brother, older by a year. He handled this Mafia for a few years before he decided this wasn't for him.

He wanted to start a family, so he easily handed it to me. "Papa would be so disappointed." He scoffs.

I get up from my seat and warn him. "Keep your mouth shut." There was a pause in speaking. He's my brother, I wouldn't hurt him. But I'm not a softie either.

If needed I would kill him less than a heart beat. He rolls his eyes and walks off. "fottuto inferno (fucking hell)" I mutter.

I get up from my chair and turn around to face the huge window behind me. Not too long after the door slams open. "cazzo, Luca. Che cazzo stai facendo?(fuck, Luca. What the fuck are you doing back?)" I say before turning around.

As I receive no response, I turn around and see Amora. Standing there with her arms crossed. My eyes travel down, down then back up.

Her hair was in a half up half down hairstyle. Her hair was naturally straight. So seeing her hair curled up in a semi-tiny curl shocked me.

As much as I like her natural hair, I seem to like this a whole lot. She was wearing black jeans, which were a little wide at the ends.

As well as that they were ripped. Not much but respectfully a fair amount. She was wearing an oversized tee-shirt. It covered her curves.

On the tee-shirt, it had 'Chase Atlantic' written in purple. Then when I finally notice the yellow envelope in her hands. "Amora." I say simply.

Did I have to say her name?

No, I didn't.

But I want to?

Yes,

I want her name to slip out of my mouth, for no reason. In situations not required to say her name I still manage to say it.

I love her name. I mean like. Amora. It's different. Sounds like Amore. Meaning love in Italian.

"What do I owe with this surprise visit?" I say, taking a step closer to her. She sighs,

"sit." Is all she says.

Hmm, I'm going to assume she's found out.

I nod slightly and sit down in my chair. She walks up closer and just stands in front of me. "Lorenzo." I love it when my name leaves her mouth.

In a non-sexual way, you freaks.

"Lorenzo, I'm going to talk and you're not going to say shit. Alright?" She asks me, pointing her pointer finger at me. I nod my head and stay silent.