Eléa Bellerose is a mysterious girl, no one knows what she's feeling or thinking. She lost her mother at birth due maternal death, making her feel guilty her whole life. Her only friend in this cruel world is her older brother, but when he gets kill...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒐 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒊
I should've killed him right there and then, but I can't. I can't get involved with police right now, besides I don't even know that dude. What was his name again? Diego? Darren? Devon?
Whatever, he deserved to get beaten up. How dare he touch Eléa? I can't believe it, his handprints were engraved in her skin.
Fighting isn't always the best solution, but God how I enjoyed that. It still won't remove the bruises on Eléa though, I want to kiss her pain away.
Talking about pain, my face hurts. That dude gave up quickly but he did hit me firmly like three times, right across my jaw and nose. Fucker.
I need to talk to her, know why that Da—, whatever his name is, dude touched her. I look around trying to find my brunette anywhere.
When my eyes scan the exit I see her shiny hair swaying slightly by the wind of the entrance. I don't spare a second and walk to her, bumping through people.
"Hey! Get back here!" Someone shouts, but I'm already out the door searching for Eléa. I turn my head scanning the parking lot, yes this fucking house has a parking lot.
I hear a slight whimper coming from my left, I walk to the noice to find Eléa sitting on a bench and touching her slightly bloody nose.
She looks up when she hears me, but looks back down. I sit next to her on the bench, still staring at her.
"So who's that guy?" I ask her.
She turns her head toward me, she ignores my question and instead she says, "Let's clean up our wounds." and grabs my hand to pull me off the bench.
"I don't have anything."
"Your nose is bleeding, Alessio." She says.
I touch my nose and she's right, it is bleeding but I didn't even notice. "We're twinning I guess." She says, forcing a smile.
I kiss her softly on her lips because I feel guilty for no reason, "Sorry."
"For what?" She asks.
"Being there too late, if I showed up earlier this wouldn't—"
"Stop, don't be ridiculous. How'd you get here? Motorcycle?" I nod and point to my black motorcycle placed on the side.
I help her get on and put my helmet on her head. She's looking right up at me and I love the sight of her on my bike. I go sit and place her hands around my waist. "Keep holding on, bella ragazza."
