Kimmik2006
I came to Florence to study art and escape my life.
I didn't plan on him
Alexander De Luca. Half-British, half-Italian.
The kind of bad that comes with a Savile Row accent, a Ducati, and a reputation that makes professors look the other way.
He found me in the Uffizi, mumbling Korean to a Botticelli painting because I was homesick.
"You're lost, foreigner," he said.
Not a question.
He was right. Now I'm lost in him - his language, his country, his bed.
*Rule 1 of dating a De Luca: You don't leave.
*Rule 2: He doesn't share.
*Rule 3: I should've stayed in Seoul.
*Warning:* Possessive MMC, explicit language, cultural clashes, and one American girl who doesn't know when to run.