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ROMIRO

I lean against the cold metal railing of the balcony, the cigarette dangling between my fingers glows in the darkness. The smoke curls around me, mixing with the cool night air, but it doesn’t bring the calm I crave. Not tonight. I take a deep drag, feeling the burn in my throat, but it does nothing to soothe the frustration gnawing at my insides.

I keep replaying our conversation, Alessia’s voice sharp, her eyes flashing with hurt and anger. I can still see the way she looked at me, like I’d ripped something out of her, like I’d betrayed her in the worst way. Maybe I have.

I exhale slowly, watching the smoke drift away, disappearing into the night. I told her to leave. I told her to go. To forget about this, about us. I thought it was the right thing to do—to protect her, to keep her away from the mess that surrounds me, the darkness that’s always one step behind.

But the way she looked at me, the way her voice cracked when she said she wanted to be with me, wanted us to be real… it broke something inside me. Made me feel like a coward. I should have held her, reassured her. Instead, I pushed her away and shut her out. Told her to go home like she was nothing, like she meant nothing.

The truth is, I’m terrified. Terrified of what it would mean to be with her openly. Of the risks. Of the threats. Of what it would mean to care so much for someone in a world like mine. But even more than that, I’m terrified of losing her. Of what happens if I let her in and something happens to her because of it. I don’t know how Eli does it.

I take another drag, the smoke filling my lungs, but it doesn’t make anything clearer. I feel like I’m standing on the edge of something, teetering, ready to fall. I can’t get the sound of her voice out of my head, the way she said my name—soft, pleading, broken.

I put out the cigarette against the railing, watching the ember die, and flick the butt over the edge. My heart pounds harder, a mix of frustration and fear, anger at myself, at her, at the whole damn situation.

I can’t stay here. I can’t just stand here and do nothing. I turn and head back inside, grabbing my leather jacket from the chair, the fabric heavy in my hands. I shrug it on, my mind already made up. I have to find her. I have to fix this. I need to tell her… something. I don’t even know what, but I can’t leave it like this. I can’t leave her like this.

I head out, taking the elevator down to the lobby, and step outside into the cool night air. The city lights glitter around me, a thousand tiny stars against the darkness. I know where she’ll be. She always goes to the same place when she’s upset—the small park near the diner, the one we’d sneak away too when things got too loud, too chaotic. It used to be our spot before we’d matured enough to have lunch or dinner together.

I start walking, my pace quick, purposeful, my hands shoved deep into my pockets. The rain begins to fall in soft drizzles, and I let it hit my face, hoping it might clear my mind, steady my nerves. But all I can think about is her—alone, angry, hurt. I imagine her sitting there, her shoulders hunched, her face turned away, and I feel a tightening in my chest.

By the time I reach the park, the rain has picked up, a steady drizzle that makes the pavement glisten under the streetlights. I spot her almost immediately, sitting on one of the benches, her head bowed, her shoulders slumped. She looks so small, so fragile, and it makes something twist inside me, something that feels like regret, like fear.

I approach slowly, my steps quiet, careful. She doesn’t see me at first, too lost in her own thoughts, her own pain. But then she looks up, her eyes widen in surprise, then narrow in anger. They’re red. She’d been crying and it’s all my fault. “What are you doing here?” she snaps, her voice raw.

I stop a few feet away, feeling the sting of her words, the ice in her tone. “It’s dangerous for a beautiful woman to be out here alone,” I say, my voice soft, trying to sound light, but even I can hear the tension in my words.

She stands up abruptly, her eyes blazing. “Go fuck yourself, Romiro,” she spits, turning on her heel, storming away.

I follow her, my steps quickening. “Alessia, wait,” I call, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow. She walks faster, her heels clicking against the wet pavement, but the ground is slick, and suddenly, I see her foot slip.

Without thinking, I reach out, grabbing her arm, pulling her against me before she can fall. She gasps, twisting in my grasp, but I don’t let go. Instead, I hold her tight, my heart hammering in my chest, adrenaline surging through my veins.

“What the hell are you doing?” she snaps, trying to pull away, but I don’t let her. I pull her closer, feeling the heat of her body against mine, and before I can stop myself, I press my lips to hers in a hard, desperate kiss.

She stiffens at first, her hands pushing against my chest. But then she melts, just for a second. Her lips part, letting me in. I push deeper, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting the salt of her tears and the rain. But then she pulls back, her hand flying out, and I feel the sting of her palm against my cheek.

I laugh, the sound rough, almost a growl. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice husky, my breath ragged. “I’m sorry, Alessia. I’ve had my head up my ass. I was scared, okay? Scared of what it means to love you. Scared of losing you. But I can’t… I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to. I don’t know how to.”

She stares at me, her chest heaving, her eyes wide, and I see the flicker of confusion, of hurt, of something deeper. “You don’t get to do this,” she whispers, her voice shaking. “You don’t get to push me away and then come after me like this. You don’t get to toy with me, Romiro.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight, my hands still holding her arms. “I know,” I whisper. “I know. I was wrong. I’m an idiot, okay? But I’m here now. I’m here, and I don’t want to be anywhere else. I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending I don’t care. I want you. Just you.”

She’s silent for a moment, her eyes searching mine, and I can see the battle going on inside her, the war between anger and forgiveness, between trust and doubt. I feel my heart pounding, waiting, hoping, terrified of what she might say.

Finally, she takes a deep breath, her expression softening just a fraction. “Do you mean that?” she asks, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Do you really mean that, Romiro?”

I nod, my grip tightening on her arms, my voice firm. “Yes,” I say. “Yes, I mean it. I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

She closes her eyes, her shoulders sagging, and I feel her relax, just a little, against me. “Then prove it,” she whispers. “Show me. Show me that you mean it.”

I nod, my heart swelling with something I can’t quite name, something that feels like hope. “I will,” I promise. “I will.”

And for the first time in a long time, I feel like I’m not running anymore. Like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

The rain comes down harder, soaking us both, turning the world around us into a blur of gray and silver. But I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but the woman in my arms, the feel of her body pressed against mine, the way her breath hitches in her throat, the way her eyes search mine, like she’s trying to find something there, something she can trust.

“Show me,” she whispers again, her voice barely audible over the rain. “Show me that you mean it.”

I don’t need any more encouragement. I pull her closer, my hands sliding up her back, tangling in her hair, tilting her head back so I can look into her eyes. There’s something there, something raw and vulnerable, something I’ve never seen before, and it makes my chest tighten with a feeling I can’t name.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, my lips inches from hers. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I was an idiot. But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Her eyes flicker with something like hope, and I feel a surge of determination, a need to prove myself to her, to make her see that I’m serious. I lean in, closing the distance between us, and press my lips to hers, soft at first, waiting for her to pull back, to push me away.

But she doesn’t. She lets out a soft sigh, her lips parting, and I take that as all the invitation I need. I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against hers, tasting the rain, the salt of her tears, the sweetness of her breath. She makes a soft sound, a whimper that goes straight to my cock, and I feel a rush of heat, a hunger that I’ve been trying to ignore for too long, ignite.

I press her back against the tree behind us, my hands roaming over her body, feeling the curves, the softness, the warmth. She arches into me, her hands clutching at my shirt, pulling me closer, and I can feel her heart racing, matching the wild rhythm of my own.

The rain pours down, drenching us, but it only makes everything more intense, more real. The fabric of her dress clings to her skin, molding to her curves. Her body fits against mine, like she was made for me. I kiss her harder, deeper, my hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her closer, and she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

She’s breathless, her eyes wide, her lips swollen from our kiss. I can’t help but smile, a fierce, triumphant grin that I know is more than a little wild. “You think I don’t want to claim you as mine?” I murmur against her mouth, my breath hot against her skin. “You think that I don’t want anything more than to fucking tell the entire world that You. Are. Mine. And no one gets to have you other than me?”

She shivers, not from the cold, but from something else, something deeper, something that sends a thrill through me. “You say all of this but…” she whispers, her voice low, urgent. “Your actions are louder than your words, Romiro.”

“Then let me show you,” I tell her before I kiss her again, harder this time, more demanding. Mmy hands roam her body, pulling her closer, feeling the way she melts against me, the way she trembles under my touch. The rain is pounding down, soaking us to the bone, but it only adds to the electricity crackling between us, the heat that seems to burn hotter with every passing second.

Her hands are also on me, sliding under my shirt , up my chest, pushing my wet jacket aside. Hher fingers are cold against my skin but leave a trail of fire in their wake. I growl low in my throat, the sound vibrating between us, and she gasps, her nails digging into my skin.

I push her back against the tree again, my mouth trailing down her neck, tasting her, nipping at her skin, and she lets out a soft moan, her head falling back, her body arching into me. “Romiro,” she breathes, and it’s like a drug, like a fire igniting in my veins.

Her hands slide up my hair, pulling me down to her, and I kiss her hard, pouring all my frustration, all my want, all my need into it. She responds immediately. Her lip’s part against mine, her tongue teasing, tasting, a familiar rhythm that drives me wild every single time.

I push my leg between hers, feeling the way she’s already pressing closer, searching for friction, for release. She moans softly, a sound that I know well, a sound that always makes me lose my damn mind. I slide my hands up her curves, fingers tangling in her hair, pulling her head back, exposing her throat to my hungry mouth.

I know every sensitive spot, every place that makes her gasp, makes her shudder. I kiss down her neck, biting gently, sucking just enough to leave a mark, and she arches against me, her nails digging into my shoulders, her breath coming faster.

“Romiro,” she gasps, and that familiar thrill runs through me, the rush of knowing I can make her feel this way, that I can bring her to this edge again and again.

“I know, baby,” I murmur against her skin, my lips tracing the curve of her shoulder. “I know exactly what you need.”

I slide my hands down, finding the hem of her dress, lifting it slowly, teasingly, feeling the way her breath catches, the way her hips press forward, seeking more. She’s wet, soaked from the rain, but I can feel the heat radiating from her, the way her body is practically vibrating with tension, with need.

Her hands are on my chest again , trailing over my abs, my ribs, familiar and bold, like she’s claiming me, reminding me who I belong to. I let her push the fabric over my head, tossing it aside, and then her hands are on my skin, her nails scraping lightly, making me hiss with pleasure.

“Impatient?” I tease, my voice rough, my lips finding her ear, my teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.

She laughs, a low, throaty sound that sends a shiver down my spine. “Always,” she murmurs, her breath hot against my ear, and then her hand slips lower, brushing against the front of my jeans, making me groan, my body arching into her touch.

“God, Alessia,” I mutter, my voice tight, my hands gripping her hips, pulling her against me, letting her feel just how much I want her. “You drive me insane.”

“Don’t blame your crazy on me,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine, her eyes dark and knowing. “But I like you crazy.”

I laugh, a short, breathless sound, and then I’m kissing her again, deeper, harder, my hands moving with purpose now, sliding up her thighs, feeling the soft skin under my fingers, feeling her tremble against me. She’s so familiar, and yet every time feels like I’m discovering her all over again, like she’s a mystery I can’t solve but never want to stop trying.

I find the edge of her underwear, slipping my fingers underneath, and she gasps, her hips jerking forward, her breath coming in quick, shallow pants. I know exactly what she likes, what makes her lose control, and I thrust my fingers inside, feeling her soak my hand, drawing a moan from her lips that sends a bolt of heat through my body.

“Romiro,” she breathes, and I hear the need in her voice, the desperation, and it drives me wild, makes me want to punish her for being such a temptation, make her beg, make her scream my name to the damn sky.

“I’ve got you,” I whisper, my lips brushing her ear, my fingers moving faster, harder, and she cries out, her body arching, her hands clutching at me, holding on like she’s afraid she might fall. “I’ve always got you, Alessia.”

She nods, her eyes squeezed shut, her lips parted, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I can feel her getting closer, feel the tension building in her body, but I don’t slow the thrusting of my fingers, instead I press the heel of my palm against her clit, and watch her come undone.

She clings to me, her hands in my hair, her body pressed tight against mine, and I can feel her heart racing, can feel the tremor in her limbs, the way she’s shaking with something more than just the cold. I want to wrap her up, to protect her, to keep her safe, but more than that, I want her to feel this, to know this, to know that she’s everything to me.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I murmur against her lips, my hands cupping her face, my thumbs brushing away the rain and tears. “I’m here, and I’m staying, and I’m not letting you go.”

She lets out a soft moan, my thumb rubbing her clit softly, before she kisses me back, harder, fiercer, her fingers digging into my shoulders, pulling me closer, holding me like she never wants to let me go. And I know, in that moment, that I’ve found something I can’t lose, something I won’t let myself lose.

The rain is a torrent now, pouring down around us, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything but her, and the way she feels in my arms, the way she tastes, the way she makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I’m not so broken after all.

“Romiro,” she whispers, her lips brushing mine, her breath warm and sweet against my skin. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t,” I promise, my voice low and fierce. “I won’t, Alessia. I’m done being afraid. I’m done hiding. I’m here. I’m yours.”

And as I pull her closer, as I kiss her again, I know that it’s true. I know that I’m done running. Done hiding. Done pretending that I don’t care.

Because I do. I care more than I’ve ever cared about anything—about anyone. I care enough to risk everything, to fight for this, for her, for us . And I will.

I’ll fight until my last breath.