𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗙𝗜𝗩𝗘 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀
Nineteen year olds should be living their lives like it's their last but not Wuraola.
Wura has never set foot outside her home since she was born and she has no desire to especially if everything...
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The slight creak of the swiveling chair and the swish of the night air in my library did nothing to get my mind off her.
That body. Those pure brown eyes. The loose tendrils of her curly black hair. Those full and supple lips.
Il fiorellino
Her.
I narrowed my eyes at the book I had read more than a million times but still read again and again.
Othello
Other times, it helped me get my mind off things. Now? It wasn't helping and the thought was oddly frustrating. My mind kept going back to the girl.
"What the fuck is going on?" I whispered to myself and violently ripped the yellow pencil that held my bun together out of my hair and my hair cascaded down and below my shoulders.
I wanted nothing to do with her. But there was something about her.
I inhaled and threw my head back, looking at the empty convenient space way up in the library. A few months ago, I had converted the library to allow more space for books. All of the books were in shelves embedded in the wall. There was a small space at the highest point in the library with a comfortable chair. Stairs led up to the reading space that would fit the little flower perfectly. She loved to read after all, didn't she?
I thought about her lips. Her pulsating veins underneath my fingers when I wrapped my fingers around her neck. I didn't want her and I couldn't have her. That's besides the fact that Gianni found her first.
But fuck was she beautiful.
"Dio!" I groaned out and glanced down at my pajama pants where a shameless bulge had formed. She was a paradigm of perfection.
She was too young. Her innocence was too lucid.
I grabbed the pack of cigarettes and pulled out a single stick. I brought the stick in between my lips and one single suggestive thought filled my mind.
Her bare and taut nipple in between my lips. Beginning to be touched. Hungry to feel my fingers on her slender waist while I buried every inch...
"Fucking hell, Antonino!" I combed my fingers through my hair, searching for my lighter on my mess of a table.
Calmati, Tino
"Dove cazzo è?!" I grunted out in frustration, searching around frantically for the lighter until I found it sitting right in front of me.
The girl was messing with my head. Gianni needed to take care of her but that was the thing about Gianni. He didn't know how to take care of women.
I lit the cigarette and took a deep drag before I stood up and walked out of the library.
He'd take what he wanted and leave.
Just as I stepped out of my room, I walked to the stairs and found Gianni stumbling on his own two feet like the drunkard he was.
