Tangled In Strings

Chapter Eleven

Giovanni settles the recently clasped thin necklace on my neck and lifts the locket to his eyeful gaze. I stare at him, reeling, lips still tingling from the forceful kiss he landed upon me just moments ago.

When I agreed to marry him.

There was no smile of reply, no questioning.

He just kissed me so hard it hurt.

I truly have no fucking clue what I'm doing.

Apprehensively, I look from the locket in his hand to his face. His eyes seem oil-slick black, the same color as his hair, which shines in perfect waves of curls, much longer than he usually allows it to get.

"Is there a preference on a ring?"

"No."

"None?"

I shake my head. It's too jumbled in there to think clearly, and yet, my head tilts. "I guess something unique, simple."

"Simple. That's not particularly my forte," he grins anyway, "but I'll think of something."

I smile as he smooths my hair back, covering the entire length in one fair swoop. "I need to cut it," I whisper, insecurity seeping in my voice. I don't know how I'm not crying, or panicking, or running.

"I like it long."

It's not what he's saying that raises our intimate levels to a thousand. It's the way he's leaning towards me, his eyes promising wanton pleasures that aren't suitable to speak of in public.

"You do?"

He smirks, twisting his fingers into the golden mess of waves. "I like having something to grab on to."

He pulls his fingers into a fist and I gasp, lifting onto my tiptoes, my hands instinctively going to his chest. He guides me back to his mouth, easing his tongue through my lips, which are open because I'm panting– loudly.

"Gi-Giovanni," I breathe against him.

"What?"

"I'm... I'm dizzy."

He pulls back, his fingers loosening. At the sight of his dilated pupils, I lay my head on his chest with a heavy sigh.

"You're making me dizzy."

It's been his intent this entire time, I'm sure of it. In fact, I'm sure that he came to this store, knowing he was going to twist me around his finger so much that he'd obliterate anything I said last night, showing me how powerful he can truly be.

For now, he removes his hand with a contented sigh.

"Come. Let's go."

...

"Hey, Gio, you've made the news."

Marco points the slim controller to the television. We're the headline, courtesy of someone that saw us in the jewelry shop. Speculations on what Giovanni and I were doing there are naturally creating heat. Turns out, rightly so.

Giovanni sits up straight, and his eyes meet mine. "Damn."

"Seems like you're going to have to go through them at the airport then." Maria grabs my hand, seated beside me on the bench. Giovanni has already risen to his feet.

"We're going to have to go sooner than we'd thought, Zia."

My eyes drift over to my bags, then to the scattered pieces of Giovanni's family lounging on the terrace, ending on the small stilted apartment Giovanni and I have spent most of our nights in. I stand, grabbing my purse.