My hands clutched on his jacket as he kissed me like I was his lifeline, like he has been counting the years down to do this, like I am all he wants - his grasp of my waist just confirmed it, intensified those sensations.
Coldness of building's wall collided with my warm skin, yet it didn't seem to bother me - all I care about the absence of distance between us, his soft lips on mine, his minty breath fusing with mine in a hot mess.
"Alessandro."- I almost whispered against his plump lips, glancing in his dusky grey eyes, cupping his cheek gently.
"Baciami, non parlare."- stated huskily Alessandro, his Adam's apple bobbing heavily as he pined me tighter to himself, and claimed my lips with his own. (Just kiss me, don't talk.)
My arms tenderly wrapped around his neck and he stepped impossibly closer, his spicy scent of smoke, bergamot, sandalwood blinded my senses and turned my mind off. His veined, sinewy, inked hand laid on my cheek and he deepened the kiss, his tongue invaded my mouth slowly and intimately, taking time to touch each corner of my mouth.
"Che scena, bravo. Nessun melodramma può competere con questa scena."- stated all too familiar voice, making our lips detach, my hands still glued to his jacket. (What a scene, bravo. No melodrama can compete with this scene.)
I glanced at our right, seeing Alessio all dress up for a fancy and glamorous event, his hands clapping while smug smirk framed his face.
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"Perché non vai a farti fottere e torni nel buco da cui sei strisciato fuori?"- snapped Alessandro, lightly nudging me behind himself. (Why don't you go fuck off and go back to the hole you crawled out of?)
"Non posso farlo, amico. È chiaro che hai bisogno di me. Vuoi un tutorial su come baciare una donna così bella?"- said Alessio, shooting me a wink, making me tense up and willingly step behind Alessandro, who tensed up, his large fists and sharp jaw clenching. (Cannot do that, buddy. You clearly need me. Do you want a tutorial on how to kiss such beautiful woman?)
"Vaffanculo prima che ti torca come un fottuto ramoscello."- said dangerously collectedly Alessandro, not letting that man step anywhere near me. (Fuck off before I twist you like fucking twig.)
"Celest, beautiful, why don't you spend the evening with me? I can make it very worthwhile, unlike him. You clearly own me after that scene, no?"- asked Alessio, extending his hand to me, and I looked at him in bewilderment.
Own him? Since when?
I apologised for leaving like that and there was no bad blood or owning. What is his problem?
