𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘕 / 𝘋𝘈𝘔𝘐𝘈𝘕𝘖 𝘋𝘈𝘝𝘐𝘋

X

lav — wavvy

Soft rays of the Sun were warming up Damiano's skin, he was sitting on the chair in the backyard with a guitar. The guy tried to relax after the previous night and quarrel with Bernadette, he still had a terrible headache and hangover. David sighed heavily and removed the guitar, closing his eyes and enjoying the moment of sunset and silence, he didn't speak with Dette about races and Willian, they didn't speak at all, surprisingly, he couldn't understand her mood, she didn't smile and laugh, she woke up early and started to clean up their house: washed the dishes, did the laundry and didn't even look at the guy. Damiano understood what he's done, but didn't think that it would hurt Dette so much, he didn't regret the race — he was sorry about her feelings and lie, so many lie. Probably their decision to live together was wrong and they break up soon, David didn't want to think about it, especially about a huge count of his lie. She wouldn't forgive him, never. He knew about a close end but desperately didn't want to admit it. Bernadette distracted him from the obsessive thoughts of parting with her, she carried a basket of wet laundry in her hands, wanted to hang it on the dryer in the form of two sticks and ropes between them. The girl, as always, was as relaxed as possible, as if she didn't know that her boyfriend had deceived her by going to the races after a friend died in a car accident, but he understood that this was just a mask that hides a broken and vulnerable soul. Putting the basket on the sand, she began to bend over and take things, after hanging them on the dryer, while the guy watched her elegant movements, smoking a cigarette, how her long fingers fasten clothes with clothespins, how she stands on her toes, like collarbones visible from under the bra. Damiano put out his cigarette on the ashtray, got up, and walked over to the girl, who seemed to be in her mind too.

"Are you angry at me?" he asked crossing his arms over your chest and leaning on the dryer with your right shoulder.

"I'm not angry," responded she without any emotions on her face, Dette just continued her work.

"So what is it?" didn't stop Damiano.

"Wet clothes," Esposito wasn't in the mood, he got it, but still wanted to apologize, he tried, even so, didn't know how.

"You know I'm not talking about that," David came closer and caught her arm.

"Ooh," she grimaced feigned surprise, "you want to talk about race in Rome that I didn't have an idea about?" Bernadette, she pulled out her hand, crossing them over her chest, and looked into his eyes with sincere anger and resentment, and only then did Damiano realize what he had done, what pain he had caused his beloved, and realized that an ordinary apology wouldn't be enough.

"I'm sorry," the guy started.

"You're sorry!" curly exclaimed, "No," she nodded, "you're not."

"I don't know what I was thinking about," he was trying to explain but it was hard because he didn't know the answer. It was a rash decision, Damiano himself doesn't understand how he got behind the wheel of his convertible, how he crosses the finish line and gets out of the car accompanied by shouts of congratulations from his friends. Everything was like a fog.

"About winning and adrenaline, that's what you were thinking about," she bit her lip and raised her hands like she was ready to cry at any moment, "not about me and my feelings at that moment. Damn it! The race with Louis again." Dette made some steps back.

"What's wrong with Louis?" he exclaimed, starting to get angry. This situation was gaining dangerous momentum.

"I can't trust him, he's a gangster and drug dealer!"

"Why?" he shouted at her.

"Because I can't lose you!"

Sometimes Damiano couldn't see the ordinary and obvious things. It was one of them: