"And don't even think of ever taking her place, because you are nothing compared to Dan-a." He got her there. Her entire resolve broke down. She'd been trying to hold it in, but his words were like a spare sent straight into her heart, and Lords! It hurt.
It hurt her really bad, the tears rolled down freely without restraint, how did it all turn out like this. She had pictured this vacation, and she hadn't planned for this kind of fight, she knew things might not end well for them, but she hadn't considered this happening.
"Why, can't you just trust me, and let your heart try to see me? Why won't you just give me the chance to show you I could be a woman to you too." She cried, and only then did he realize the harshness of his words. Maybe this whole thing was his fault, he was starting to think.
Maybe he really should never have called a twenty-three years old woman a baby. And damn, he hated to admit it, but something about the way he saw her was changing. He'd never felt the urge to caress her before, but now he desired to hold her close and bury her deep in his arms, he wished to slowly kiss her tears away, and he hated himself for thinking this way. She's just like your sister, he says in his head again.
"I could make your heart beat too, I could love you as much as she did, and even much more if only you would allow your heart, love me."
He took a step closer to her, trying to control his urge to take her lips, and kiss her lashes, and dry her tears with his lips.
"Piccola, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. But this," he draws a line back and forth between them with his hand. "you and me, it just can't happen. Never. Because it's like I said, I can't pick up my broken pieces. And I can't just leave that broken glass laying on the ground and pick a new mirror, because those broken pieces will hurt you. Being with me will only hurt you more than I am already doing. I'm like poison Piccola, I destroy everything that touches me. I'm injurious to your health, so this can never happen."
"You say you have broken glasses, and you can't pick them up. Then let me pick them up. Let me get hurt in your stead. Let me help you throw out those broken pieces, and help you find a new one that would last longer. DK, let me__ You said that if you hold it too tight, it would shatter, and if you don't hold it tight enough, it would slip out of your hand and still shatter. But DK, if you hold it just right, it won't shatter, and it might become your favorite glass, and you'd get to keep it for a long time. You say you're poison, then maybe I could be the antidote. Or better still, I'm Venom. If we're both toxic, we would both get hurt together, or we won't get hurt at all. Let me help you Zee, let me help you. Let me in. Please."
"Piccola you___" before he could say anything further, she pulled him by his collar, stretched up on her toes, and kissed him. Tears trailing down her closed eyes, she prayed in her heart that he'd open up to her, and let her in.
She hoped that his arms that stayed high up in the air would slowly wound around her body and caress her dearly, hoped that his eyes were closed, and he could feel how much she longed for him, how much she loved him. She hoped that his heart would let her in.
And he did. For his lashes fell close, and his hands fell on her back and hips, pulling her closer to his body, deep in his stud embrace, and his lips opened up for her, and he tasted her tears, tasted the salt in it.
Tasted the spice in her mouth, and then he tasted it, again. That forbidden sweetness he had savored earlier, sweetness he had tried taking out of his head and mouth, that sweetness he had tried not to remember, he savored the goodness of it, and damn! She was palatable.
His palm played on every inch of her back, tenderly, lovingly, alluringly holding her deep inside his arms. Finding split seconds to breathe whenever they could, he munched on her lips, his tongue intensively studying the insides of her mouth, he wasn't going to cut it short this time.
He went in deeper, firmly curling his lips around her tongue, her little palms holding a fist full of his shirt in them as she fought to stay on her feet.
At some point, he had laid her down on the couch, still kissing her, his right hand slowly caressing her shoulders, stroking her with much care and softness.
"haah," it was a low gasp that escaped her lips and into his own as his hand fell atop her breasts and squeezed her in his huge palm. Massaging her breast through the cloth as he kissed her more, her toes dug deep into the couch as he touched her, caressing her breast in his palm, she could feel that place between her legs tighten, it suddenly felt really uncomfortable down there. She could feel it thump like a heartbeat. He fondled her breast, but she felt the heat down there, felt the aching need there.
"Is this what you wanted?" He suddenly stopped all he was doing. Stopped kissing her, his hands were off her body, and in that same instant he was on his feet, looking down at her on the couch, and she'd never seen this look before. Never. He looked distant, like he was a different person, not the person she knew and laughed with.
"Is that what you wanted? A kiss? Want me to touch your body like that?" the way he eyed her made her tremble unconsciously. Her hands slowly went over her shoulders, even though they were not exposed, she just felt like covering herself up. Maybe she felt ashamed, or embarrassed, or maybe it was just something about the way he was looking at her with such__ such__
"Disgusting!" He hissed.
"huh?" she breathes.
"You wanted to prove something to me today, right? Well you've succeeded. I now know that you're not different from those puttane who throw themselves at me endlessly." He scoffs, and Luna could only pray that she wasn't hearing him correctly. She could only hope that even though she was hearing him correctly, that it was a bad joke.
But it wasn't.
" You've shown me that you're ready to sell yourself cheap, to anybody for any bloody reason. And you disgust me. I hate the you I'm seeing right now. You make me sick." Her heart didn't just sink, it died in one big throw. He managed to kill her with those words that were sharper than knives.
"DK," the letters barely left her lips in a whisper. Just choking sobs. Nothing ever hurt her more. Not even when she heard he was getting married then. And she was really hurt that time. But it didn't compare to what she felt now.
Nothing pained her more than to hear him say he hated her, looking at her with those familiar and yet strange eyes, she'd never seen before. Never seen them so nonchalant, and at the same time cold, so cold that she felt the freezing in her bones.
"Don't call me. It sounds rotten." He hissed, walking away from her, not minding the tears that flowed non-stop. "And I don't care anymore if my identity has been exposed or not, but first thing tomorrow morning, we're heading back. I can't spend another day here with you. So stop that stupid muffling and go pack up, because tomorrow I'm sending you back to papa." And that was it. That was all he had to say to her. He walked out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
And all she could do was sit there and weep. The harsh words he'd said played over and over again in her head, echoing loudly in the room. Mocking her stupidity, mocking her failed attempt at healing his wound. All she ended up doing was wound herself too. And it hurts. It hurt so bad, and all she could do was cry, covering her mouth with her hands, trying to stop the sound from leaving her mouth.
Disgusted he said. He was disgusted by her, and she cried, and cried, and did nothing more but cry.