2P GerIta: Fallen

8

My body ached, my ass would likely feel so for days, we made a mess of the room, the bed, and each other, and I had never felt happier in all of my life. Luciano stroked my hair, and he looked almost peaceful after we just did, seeming to be more relaxed than I had seen him in months.

I never wanted to leave that bed, but once I whispered my "I love you" after earning acknowledgement from him, the whole scene shattered as Luciano instantly scowled and got up, and I was forced to see just how unwilling my legs were to support my weight and how awkward it felt after having been horizontally engaged instead.

"I love you," I repeated, though Luciano still would not look at me, instead going to the closet to put on his clothes while I struggled to get my body to flow properly as I did the same then, and when Luciano reemerged with his explanation that love was only for the weak, I took the strides to his side, cupped his face in my hands, and kissed him even more desperately than we had earlier in his knife room, trying to convey in one moment all that I had ever felt for him, all that I would ever feel, trying to show him how badly I wanted to be with him, how easily he could do it too, how this would not hurt him, he could like it, he could love it, he could love me.

But all I got was derision and rejection when I released him and he walked away again, leaving me alone again, without any reciprocation.

Again.

"Hey, stop!" I yelled after Luciano, letting how pissed off I was finally leak into my words, and I knew it was that more than my actual words that led Luciano to actually halt.

"Listen, scheißkerl, I don't care what the hell you say," I seethed, getting up in his face and letting him see my rage, watched how his eyes sparked in interest, though I hardly had the patience for Luciano to wish for a Round Two in the bedroom as I wanted to scream at him and shake him and pound it into his stupid smug head that love wasn't going to kill him!

"Look at me!" I snapped, trying to get him to understand, trying to explain with my tone what my words and actions had so far failed to do. Luciano still being somewhat distracted, I ensnared my fingers in his hair and crushed our lips together, bent him to the force of my will, trying to show him that he could love someone if he would just let it happen.

Yet when we separated his smirk was still firmly in place, and I couldn't help but think he thought this was a game still.

"Arsch, verdammt, ich liebe dich!"

"Si, si, Lutz, I know, I understand," he laughed, and I actually growled at him.

I struggled now to breathe deeply and calmly, knowing that I was not being very effective towards my end goal when I was just yelling and heated with Luciano. When I finally regained myself some, I let my typical cocky grin cross my lips, and allowed myself the luxury of my fingertips ghosting over Luciano's flesh, reveling in how I could feel the effect it had upon him, my shift into this easier version of me as I slowly stroked his cheeks and neck, feeling the flutter in pulse there at the contact.

"I don't want your lust, Luciano," I whispered, delicately tracing his jugular with the pad of my thumb and watching how he shuddered just barely when I did and at hearing the words coming out of my mouth - "I want your love."

I could see just the tiniest flash of resentment from Luciano at this statement, but I knew he was paralyzed for the moment, and that was partly because I was so compelling to him right now, a rare feat to achieve to have Luciano Vargas unable to turn away from you.

"You are a god, Luciano," I muttered, moving just the slightest bit closer to him and lowering my voice a few decibels, watching how a tiny spark hit his eyes at the apparent praise before I pressed on again, even softer and a little closer to him; "You are a god, but a cruel one." And perhaps even more than the narcissism, Luciano could appreciate my understanding of his capabilities to be merciless and evil.... "One who is cold perfection, untouchable by any others, and unwilling to change that. You are a work of wonder and power and aggression and fear, and I am sure you love being admired as a piece of art so skillfully made above the world, but you are so unwilling to actually let people touch you - " And we both knew that my hands could be just that much more tantalizing skimming over the pale, perfect flesh under my touch, and Luciano seemed to almost be coming undone just from that alone - "And if only you were, because I think I could finally make you more than just the dark side of the Northern half of Italy-I could make you into Luciano the Real, a man who has a fist of iron, but perhaps not a heart of stone."

By that point, I was flush to his body, and whispered just one last time into his ear: "I love you."

And then we were kissing, and I didn't know what was wrong or right, mine or his, where I stopped and he began, all that mattered was that Luciano has chosen me, chosen to love me in return, I had finally broken down all the walls of his encaged heart, finally set him free from himself in order to love me, finally earned all of his trust so that we could be but one beating heart.

And as I felt that sharp pain in my chest, as I looked down to see the knife buried deep within my heart which I had long ago surrendered to the man whom I now locked eyes with, seeing the anger, anguish, shock, pain, discovery, love, and even already the beginnings of an eternity of regret and isolation and despair everlasting exposed in them, I knew that I could never be happier.

As Luciano lowered my corpse to the floor, I figured maybe I didn't know as much about myself or the afterlife as I thought I did, for - though I had always assumed I knew where I would end up once I breathed no more - I assumed I must have been in Heaven yet as the darkness surrounded me and I dimly heard the last thing pushing me out of one life and ushering me into the next.

"I love you too."