Wanted By The Italian Devil .
- Reads 65
- Votes 11
- Parts 3
Tagsromance
I set a pencil straight right beside her portrait. she's fucking as straight as this pencil and here I am getting married to her. for fuck sake DAD!!!
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“This is bad . . .” she muttered almost incomprehensively. I must have heard but didn’t actually listen. I tucked her hair behind her ear anyway. I really should have removed my hand. She shouldn’t have looked up with that pretty face of hers. For a moment I searched her eyes and she did mine. She’s not flinching or cursing or complaining. This is a huge improvement. I played with her braid, my eyes still searching her. I really should move back. I really should. . . Oh fuck this. With a light pull of her braid, I kissed her.
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