Azalea Faye Larau - The sweetheart socialite with a fire underneath and an up and coming ballet dancer in London striving to stay afloat in an ocean of sharks, all the while dealing with heartbreak and loss.
Harlan Emeric Marchetti - The Italian Maf...
"Desire is the sound of whiskey, telling me you miss me, can you come around?"
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"Would you like a drink? Something to eat, maybe?" Azalea asked me once her friend had left.
"Water, please." I cleared my throat and she nodded, heading to grab me a glass of water which I downed in one go, my eyes falling onto her as she stood stiffly nearby, her eyes roaming around the room.
"Come here, sit with me." I patted the space next to me when she frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I said so." I reasoned.
"That's not a good enough reason, Mr. Marchetti." She quipped and I had to bite back the smirk as I leaned back and closed my eyes, rubbing my temples as I breathed out.
"Sit with me," I opened my eyes to see her already watching me cautiously with slightly narrowed eyes, "Please."
I could see the gears turning in her head as she twisted the butterfly ring around her finger and after what seemed like forever did she nod once and gingerly sat on the couch with me.
"Why are you so far away? Move closer." I said but before she could object, I had pulled her completely into my side, a gasp leaving her lips when she placed a hand on my thigh to steady herself and I felt my tense body relax the moment I touched her.
"Red!" She chastised but I ignored her and wrapped one arm around her, pulling her body flush against mine.
"I haven't slept this whole week, you know?" I buried my nose into her hair, breathing in her flowery and fruity scent that seemed to make me melt even more into her.
"W-Why not?" He shaky voice reached me and I smiled subtly as I placed a kiss on the top of her head, feeling her relax into me as well as I drew random patters on her bare arm.
"I have a bad case of insomnia." I spoke in a quiet voice and heard her small 'oh'.
"They have medicines for that, don't they? Treatment?" She asked, curious little thing, and I hummed in response.
"They do, none of them seemed to work on me." I informed her as she turned herself a bit to face me.
"When was the last time you slept properly?" She asked with furrowed brows and I found myself hesitating at the concern showing in her eyes, or perhaps it was a hallucination.
"Last week, when I slept next to you before the lunch." I told her and saw her eyes widen.
"That was barely two hours." She exclaimed in disbelief.
"I can't sleep, and I'm exhausted to the point I could crash and die," I stated and saw a small, amused smile touch her lips before I spoke, "Bet you would love that."
