"Are not scared anymore?""
"Should I be?"
I raised my brow annoyed. At least let me eat in peace.
Emiliano wasn't looking at me. He was just dragging his fork on the leftover pasta, making it inedible for someone who doesn't want to taste his spit all over the food.
Eat properly.
"I'm sorry for what happened in the basement… I-I didn't think it through. It was just an instinct."
"Yeah, the usual body response to fight, fight or stab the dude you are f-cking with a syringe in the middle of the act."
He smiled humorlessly.
"I worked all my life to make my dream come true. My body seemed to prioritize that over you. But I don't want that, puppy! I want you."
"That's it? A half-hearted sorry and a lame excuse?"
"Would you like me to restart from where we left off in the basement?"
"You lost that chance long ago."
He looked at his clock theatrically.
"Yeah, about three hours ago. But I could go for another round. I don't think poor Tom can."
"Is he gonna be ok?"
