It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Twenty

Nico had punched Luca profusely, his drunken state rendering his last few blows sloppy and misguided. Matteo managed to pull Nico off of Luca before any serious damage was made. A broken nose and a split lip at most but nothing life-threatening.

"You touch her again and I'll kill you," Nico slurs and I grab his wrist, pulling him away. "I'm sorry, amore mio," he says, his breathing ragged.

"It's okay, it's okay," I repeat, not sure whether I am comforting myself or him. But either way, it seems to work for the both of us. Leading Nico away from the chaos, I return to the bonfire and grab my bag - taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues. "Sit."

Nico obliges immediately, sitting down on the withered oak used as seats. "I don't know what happened... I saw him kiss you and then I was there. I couldn't stop. I saw the way you pushed him away, how you had no time to react..." Nico's words come out of him in heaves. Anger resides in his features again and he stands, ready to strike.

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I force him to sit back down. Taking the bottle, I unscrew the lid before wetting one of the tissues. Nico's knuckles had split, blood streaming down his hands.

"You shouldn't have done that, you could have done permanent damage," I sigh, pressing the damp tissue to his knuckles, attempting to stop the bleeding. Nico doesn't seem inflicted one bit by the pain as his eyes watch me.

Nico sighs before leaning his head against my stomach. "It was worth it to see that pezzo di merda get what he deserves."

"You wanna speak louder? Or are you just gonna cry to your bitch?" Luca shouts and it takes everything in me to keep Nico seated. The fury in his eyes almost toppled me over.

"Ignore him," I huff.

Holding the tissue to his knuckles with one hand, I use the other to thread it through his hair. Attempting to somewhat calm him down, I continue to run my hand through the strands.

Nico pulls me closer, to stand between his legs.

"Please can we go to bed," he says, his voice just below a whisper. I nod and Nico stands before leading us towards one of the tents. "I brought some stuff for you to wear," his voice is low and depleted.

"Thank you," I give him a tight-lipped smile.

Unzipping the tent, we clamber in, and I set myself up for a night of complete and utter dread. My insomnia will be in full swing as I listen out for every snap of a branch and every gust of wind.

Nico grabs his bag, pulling out a thick blanket and some clothes. "Here." When he hands them to me, I attempt to turn the other way as I brush my hair aside and unfasten my bikini top. Letting it drop in front of me, my breath hitches when Nico's lips touch against the top of my spine, goosebumps spreading across my skin in a frenzy.

"I want to kiss every inch of your skin," Nico murmurs and I'm conscious of the thinness of the tent. My heart races at the thought, the sight of him kissing every curve and every flaw. The sight of him with his head between my thighs.

I shake my head. "You're drunk, you need to rest," I say as I pull the shirt over me. I thank God that I brought extra underwear as I discreetly change into them and turn back to Nico.

It was awkward and cramped, to say the least. Nico's eyes linger on my thigh for far too long and I look down. Remnants of his blood are smeared across my skin from when he pulled me to move closer. Taking a makeup wipe from my bag, I clean the crimson from my thigh - the once white material of the wipe now a light shade of pink.

A heavy wave of sadness resides in his eyes. "Mi dispiace... I'm sorry," he clarifies, and I give him a small smile. Mi dispiace.

"I have a feeling I'm not the one you should be apologising to," I tread lightly around the situation. Luca looked beyond battered, so much so that I'm surprised that Nico didn't catch any blows himself.