LORENZO
I carried Francesca to the room, her body limp in my arms. As I laid her on the bed, she groaned softly.
I helped her sit up, gently and quickly grabbed the first aid kit from the bathroom and began to clean and dress the wound of her finger. It wasn't that deep but she is the kind that hates anything blood..
Francesca winced in pain as I applied antiseptic, but she didn't make a sound.
I noticed Francesca's eyes on me, her gaze soft and intimate. She was trying to get close to me, I cleared my throat and now I am done with dressing her wound.
"Hey Lorenzo.." she called trying to pull me back but I pushed her away, my hands firm but gentle.
"Francesca, don't," I said, my voice firm. "We can't do this."
But she didn't listen. She reached out, her hand brushing against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I felt my resolve weakening, my anger rising.
