The Dawsons

Chapter 9 - Temptations

Friday, November 4, 1966; six and a half months later

Francesco watched Rosa intently from behind a very large, very high mahogany bookcase at the back of Evangeline High School's empty library. She was seated at a rectangle study table reading a heavy book. Francesco observed the way she gently turned the pages, the way her chest quietly moved as she breathed, and he closed his eyes, feeling elated. Rosa was magnificent in everything she did.

Francesco hadn't had the chance to be alone with her in months, and it was driving him mad. Rosa was almost always with her sister. And on the rare occasion that she wasn't with Rose, she was with her friends. Ever since the day they had kissed, he had dreamed about her constantly. And when he was awake, she never left his mind. Francesco watched her all the time, loving every new thing he discovered about her. He could never get enough. But following her here was something he'd never done. He'd never followed her anywhere, instead simply observing her from a distance, whenever she was in the same room or they were out on the playground together. It was all he could get from her. Rosa had avoided him since their kiss, only saying hello when she was confronted by him but quickly leaving before their conversation could deepen.

This time, Francesco wasn't going to let her get away. He knew now that he loved her, and he would wait forever if he had to until she accepted him, until she came to her senses and realised that they were meant to be together. He knew they were. Now was the only chance he might get, and he wasn't going to let it slip away. Francesco walked out from behind the bookcase and stood nervously in front of her, thinking quickly of what he might say. She was so stunning, he forgot to breathe just being this close, and his body trembled.

Hearing footsteps, Rosa looked up. When she saw that it was Francesco, she flinched, startled. Seeing his beautiful, tanned face and sturdy physique gave her butterflies in her stomach.

"Hey," Francesco finally said, pushing his hands into the pockets of his black pants.

Rosa looked up at him inconsolably and prayed he would go away before she said or did something she might regret. "Hello," she replied softly and then turned back to her book, and they both went quiet.

Francesco didn't leave. He just gazed at Rosa warmly as she placed a golden-white strand of hair behind her ear. She licked her lips, and Francesco's groin immediately went hard with arousal. He sighed painfully.

Rosa looked up at him, unable to concentrate with him standing there. Francesco was staring right into her eyes, and he seemed to be melting in them. "What is it that you want?" she asked plainly, her body completely aware of him when he gently took hold of her soft, pale chin. Her heart raced dramatically, and she felt her face going pink from the heat of his contact.

"I can't sleep knowing we're not together, knowing our lips haven't touched in so long," Francesco murmured, his body tingling.

"Francesco," Rosa started to say.

But she forgot how to speak when he bent down and whispered heatedly in her ear, "Just tell me I'm yours." He breathed out heavily, the touch of her cheek burning his insides. He hadn't expected to say this, to act this way. But being this close to her scrambled his brain.

Rosa gaped at him in despair. She could barely handle this insanity—the emotions that seeped so deeply within her when he was standing this close. She had barely managed to keep her distance for so long. But she had done so because she knew that she wouldn't be able to help herself if he touched her. Oh why did I come here alone! Rosa thought desperately. "I ... ca—"

Francesco placed his index finger on her luscious lips before she could go on, before she could deny him. "Shhh," he shushed her and then groaned, pressing his lips softly but swiftly against hers.