Sequel to the Within His Reach series.
~
She tries to leave the past behind.
He can't seem to escape it.
The two lovers move to Italy in the hopes of a safer life. But when the greater powers living within the orchards and vineyards make themselves...
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I peer down at him from where I stand, resting against the oak pole of our four-poster bed. His body is lazily covered in the thick duvet as he lightly snores. I think this is the first time in a while that I've seen him so relaxed. Well... the first time in a while that I've seen him this up and close at all.
I could stand here and look at him until my legs cave in. I'd never grow tired of the view. Sure, I'd rather be on him, but I'll take what I can get. Can't exactly be picky. Not that I have to. I already have who I want, or, a bit distant version. But I'm working on that.
The thing is, he really does mean the world to me. Probably more than he realizes. I only wish he knew how much though so that he would understand how much his distance hurts me. But I guess he kind of does after my outburst yesterday. If not, he really is dense.
A small groan leaves his plump lips as he twists and turns on the bed, his large hand moving to readjust the pillow. His face scrunches up for a bit as he tries to lay comfortably, not really succeeding. But slowly, the frown falls away, his body relaxing into the mattress. Even now, when he's relaxed and unconscious, he's so insanely gorgeous. I wish I could lay next to him, hold him close. But the rustling downstairs has been keeping me restless for the past hour.
Nico's always been a light sleeper. The fact that he yet hasn't woken up from the light banging downstairs surprises me. He didn't wake up when I detangled myself from his arms either. It's an unusual thing, but I'm quite grateful for it. Perhaps if he sleeps well he can have enough energy to withstand my torturing today.
He's not the only one who can make the other miserable. The only difference is that I won't hurt him. The opposite actually.
I turn away from him, tapping towards the door in my pink fluffy socks. The small snores continue as I pull the door open, exiting the warm comfortable bedroom. The banging from downstairs becomes louder as I close the bedroom door after myself. Someone must be cooking. It's that or they're punching each other with pans. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if it was the latter.
I make my way around to the staircase, taking silent steps down the stairs as I listen in. The tap is turned on, filling something up. It sounds as if someone throws a stick of butter onto a hot pan, the sizzling erupting loudly. The smell of bacon suddenly fills my nostrils, my stomach growling inhumanly loud.
My eyes widen as I panic, frantically looking around me. With the volume of that it's impossible they didn't hear me. I'm about to turn around and sprint upstairs when the warm face of Matteo enters my field of vision. He sends me a charming smile as he waves a large hand. I stay put, staring at him like a deer in the headlights.
"Buongiorno." He cheers. The corners of my lips slowly pull into an awkward smile. I lift my fingers and wave them through the air a little, his eyes darting to my awkward arm. A small grin spreads on his lips as he takes a step to the side, waving me down with his hand.
