Chapter Twelve

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CHAPTER TWELVE
THE RULES OF LORENZO
NEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

CHAPTER TWELVE THE RULES OF LORENZONEW YORK CITY, NEW YORK

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The time was about 2 am when I went to sleep. To say I was tired was an understatement because my body was extremely fatigued. There was a knock on the door and my eyes slowly opened. Groaning to myself softly, I lift my sleep mask and place my feet on the floor. When I opened the door, Lorenzo stood with his hands on the frame of the door, supporting his weight.

He slowly pulled his eyes up to meet mine and I shivered under his intense glare. The smell of alcohol entered my nose and I took note of the way he could barely even stand.

"What do you want?" I asked, his words from yesterday entering my mind. He pushed past me and entered my room, sitting down on my bed. Rolling my eyes, I close the door and face him. "Here to insult me some more?"

"Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see my little butterfly?" He slurred, and it all clicked. He was drunk out of his mind.

"No. Seriously, why are you here?" I asked. A wide smile appeared on his lips and my eyebrows furrowed together. I had never seen Lorenzo smile like this and I wondered what was so funny. Slowly, it disappeared and his lips formed a line.

His eyes moved down my body and it didn't help that I was wearing my satin nightgown with nothing underneath it. Since the air conditioner was on, my nipples pierced through the thin fabric. I wasn't expecting company tonight.

"Can't we just exist?" He asked, meeting my eyes again.

I frowned, crossing my arms and shaking my head.  "No. Not after everything you said to me yesterday. Stop acting like we're cool, we're not cool. You don't like me and I don't like you,"

Lorenzo hummed, pulling out a small bottle of alcohol and twisting the top open. I watched with curious eyes as he brought it to his lips and took a large sip, his adam apple bobbing up and down.

When he finished drinking, I raised my eyebrow waiting for an answer as to why he was still there. He surprised me by smirking and looking at the bottle.

"Open that mouth of yours, yeah?"

Something about that sentence made me feel weak, almost submissive even. My heart was beating rapidly against my chest and the inside of my mouth was dry. Once again, Lorenzo caused intense feelings to appear—feelings that I had never felt in my life until I met him.

He gently pulled me down to the floor so I was sitting in front of him. I feel his thumb pressed against my chin as he raised my jaw.

My lips subconsciously parted and he used this as the perfect opportunity to place the bottle tip on my lower lip. The alcohol slid on my tongue and reached the back of my throat before I swallowed. Closing my eyes, I shake my head at its ridiculous taste. Even if the drinking age in the United States was 19, I still wouldn't drink.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐎Where stories live. Discover now