[At present, Amalfi]
"Oh," I paused for a moment, unsure of what to say next, then asked, "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Ezekiel hesitated but nodded. "Um... yes, I got it," he said as he walked past me, carrying a box. As he brushed by, I caught his familiar scent—warm, comforting, and intoxicating. There was something about it that made my heart skip a beat. But I noticed how he avoided meeting my eyes, like he was deliberately trying to keep some distance between us.
He placed the box on the ground with a light smile. "Okay," he said, but there was a certain tension behind his words.
Our eyes met briefly, and at that moment, my heart started racing. But just as quickly as our gazes locked, he looked away, leaving me unsure of what he was feeling. I wanted to ask, but the words didn't come.
"So, I'll take a quick shower and join you," he added quickly, as if to fill the silence.
"Today I ordered breakfast."
I nodded back before he walked out of the room. My eyes followed him until he disappeared down the hall. There was something in the air—an awkwardness, a tension that wasn't there before last night.
Once he was gone, I turned my attention to the box he had left behind. Kneeling down, I couldn't help but smile as curiosity took over. Without thinking, I began to open it. Nervousness fluttered in my stomach, but I pushed it aside.
Inside, I found an old photo album. I sat down on the couch and began flipping through the pages. Each picture seemed to tell a story—pictures of a young boy, his parents beside him. The boy was smiling, happy. My fingers lightly traced over the image of what I assumed was a young Ezekiel with his family.
He looked so carefree, so different from the man he is now.
As I was engrossed in the old photographs, flipping through memories, I suddenly heard Ezekiel's voice from behind.
"That's my mom," he said softly.
Startled, I turned around. He was leaning in close, just beside my left shoulder. His presence was overwhelming—his breath, the scent of his freshly washed hair, the soft hint of his shampoo. I couldn't help but smile.
"She's beautiful," I remarked, admiring the woman in the photograph. There was a gentle strength in her eyes, something that reminded me of Ezekiel.
"Indeed, she is," he replied quietly, his voice carrying an edge of nostalgia.
I glanced up at him, and our eyes met. For a moment, everything else faded. Our faces were so close, so dangerously close, that if I moved just a little, my lips would brush against his. My heart began to race. Ezekiel blinked, seeming to realize the tension between us—the same tension that had led to last night. I could see it in his eyes, the internal battle between desire and guilt, the weight of what had happened.
He shifted uncomfortably, his voice laced with nervousness as he spoke, "Come on, let's eat."
But I didn't move. I didn't even change my posture. I wasn't about to let this moment slip away so easily. I knew exactly what I wanted, and I wasn't the type to back down once I'd made up my mind. Last night had only been the beginning, and I was determined to get what I wanted, just like I had then.
He glanced at me again, this time more hesitant. The tension hung thick in the air between us, but I just smiled and slowly stood, following him out of the room.
Ezekiel's back was to me as he walked ahead, but I knew he could feel my gaze on him. The uneasiness that surrounded him was palpable. But I wasn't about to give up. I would have him, whether he admitted he wanted it too or not.
As we took our seats at the breakfast table, I sipped my juice, sneaking a glance at Ezekiel. He seemed completely absorbed in his breakfast, focused on the plate in front of him, as if avoiding my gaze was his main goal. I pressed my lips together, feeling the need to start a conversation, but the only thing on my mind was last night.
I wanted to ask him how much he'd enjoyed it. The thought gnawed at me until I couldn't hold back any longer. Raising my eyes to him, I asked softly, "Are you okay?"
The moment the words left my mouth, Ezekiel began to cough. I watched him, calm on the outside but amused on the inside. Handing him a glass of water, I smiled to myself as he took a sip, trying his hardest to regain composure. He was so cute when he was agitated, a far cry from the man I met.
He placed the glass back on the table, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes... of course."
I couldn't help but bite my knuckles lightly, suppressing a grin. He was flustered, and it was adorable. I ran my nails lightly across my lips before leaning in just a little and asking, "I'm talking about last night."
Ezekiel froze, raising his gaze to meet mine, eyes wide, filled with uncertainty. He shook his head quickly and gripped the knife in his hand, his voice trembling as he started, "Isabella! I... Look—"
But I cut him off before he could finish. "Don't apologize about it." My tone was firm but gentle.
"We both enjoyed it. I know you did."
He fell silent, his face flushed, caught between guilt and the undeniable truth. I softened my voice even more, trying to ease the tension. "It's just that I wasn't fully in my senses... so..."
I looked down for a moment, gathering my thoughts before lifting my eyes to him again. "I somehow feel like I missed something."
Ezekiel's gaze was intense, locking onto mine, as if searching for the right words. I smiled softly, trying to cut through the tension that hung in the air. As I began slicing my bread, I heard him speak, his voice strained.
"Isabella, whatever happened last night… it wasn't… I didn't mean for it to happen like that."
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. His eyes closed briefly, as if trying to find the right way to explain. A rush of irritation flared within me. I didn't want to hear excuses, especially not now.
Before he could finish, I stood abruptly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Isabella, please—"
Without thinking, I placed my hand gently under his chin, tilting his face toward mine. Without hesitation, I leaned in and pressed my lips softly against his. His surprise was palpable, but I didn't care. I moved my fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of him close to me.
The scent of him, the softness of the kiss, it was all-consuming. I brushed my lips slowly across his, savoring the moment, the way his presence seemed to envelop me.