After witnessing the murder of her mother and constantly being abused by her own father, Lily's life is a cycle of never ending torture.
With her father being a part of the police force and his 'friends' keeping an eye on her 24/7, Lily has no choi...
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'I've never been the most important thing to anybody – not even to myself.'
Yawning, I kept my eyes closed and snuggled into my pillow, trying to stay asleep, too comfortable to want to wake up.
I could feel something tickling my nose, making me want to sneeze and push it away from my but that would require me to wake up, so I moved my face to a cosier spot.
My mind was still hazy with sleep and I was surrounded by a familiar heavenly scent. Suddenly, I froze. My eyes would have been shooting open if I wasn't so embarrassed by my actions last night.
"T-theres enough room on the b-bed."
Seriously? Could I have sounded any more pathetic?
I hesitantly opened my eyes and realised why I was feeling so comfortable.
My head was tucked into the corner of his neck, my legs were entangled in his and I found out that his hair was the culprit of tickling me. I could feel his arm wrapped around my waist, his cold metallic rings resting on the exposed skin on my back.
My brain turned into mush. He looked so angelic.
An angel.
Before I could more, his eyes fluttered open and revealed his gorgeous brown eyes.
"Buongiorno girasole mio (good morning my sunflower)", he rasped out, closing his eyes and snuggling into the gap between my shoulder and neck.
"G-good morning", I stuttered out, my face flushing in embarrassment.
I realised that morning him is very cuddly.
My hand shyly reached up and went to his hair, and I began to weave my hands through it.
I don't know where the sudden bursts of confidence came from but I'm so glad that I decided to play with his hair because it was so soft – I was actually jealous of it.
He seemed to enjoy it as he hummed in delight and wrapped his arms around me tighter.
"My mamma used to do that to me whenever I woke up from a bad dream. It feels nice", he whispered.
"Stai bene?", he asked, still in his comfortable position with his eyes closed in content.
"Lo sto bene (I'm good)", I whispered, knowing that he would hear me.
He was good at that. Even though sometimes I forget to speak up, he can still hear what I'm saying. Even when I don't tell him how Im feeling, he somehow just knows.
A few minutes passed and I began to feel hungry, but I was too comfortable to move.
Sleep or food?
Food wins. I begin to move but stilled when I heard a groan and he roped his arms around me so I couldn't move.
