i joti

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"I jemi je." I tell him with tears in my eyes. He should know better than to hurt me. He should know.

"Vetëm i joti." He breathes in such a caring voice, putting his fingers on my lips, as to make sure they're still there. He wants to make sure they're the same ones, he loves to devour and to mutter sweet words against. He wants to feel them and I want to feel his. I need him right now.

"I joti, princeshë, vetëm i joti." His whispers echo in my brain again and again, webbing me in like a love spell. Those tasty lips of his become clearer as they come closer to mine. His aroma blurries all my senses and all the lines. I let myself fall into his strong arms. There is no one around, I am allowed to fall. Nobody can stop me, I am too close to the edge. One foot in the air and the other on wobbly ground.

Shpirt, kur do të bijë, a me mban?

It's an unspoken question and as if he can see it in my eyes, he puts his arm around my waist, snaking the other one up to my neck.
And there it is in his gaze. I can read the answer to all of my doubtful questions.

Për gjithmonë, princeshë.

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