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Mm, that smells like—-no, stop, Cat!
This is absolutely not the time to be distracted!
Not when—-oh!
His fingers have cupped my elbow, and a strong sense of déjà vu hits me. Wasn't I just doing this for Mr. Drunk earlier? But my world has turned upside-down in a blink, and now I'm the one who's a complete mess.
"I'll have one of the staff come in to help you change."
I automatically open my mouth to say I don't need to cause more trouble than I already have, but he easily cuts me off with a look.
"No arguments."
Aye, aye, captain.
Another strong sense of déjà vu strikes me, and I bite my lip hard to keep the words from tumbling past my lips.
Am I losing my mind?
Am I just overreacting to things?
Or maybe this is me still lacking oxygen in my brain after almost drowning?
I vaguely hear him speaking on the phone, and the bits and pieces I manage to catch from his fast-and-furious Italian tell me he's serious about getting a doctor to check on me.
Great, just great.
I hate having to cause anyone trouble, but the moment my gaze strays to him, I...I can't remember what I was so upset about, and all I can think of at this moment is howunfairlybeautiful he still seems, even with his back turned to me.
Please God, please. You can't be serious, surely?
The longer I stare at him, the more my despair grows.
So, so not good.
How was Ezio Marchetti still the epitome of masculine perfection even when he was just standing there?
Please God, please let me be wrong, please.
I see him drop his phone back into his pocket, and I can't help holding my breath.
Please, please, please let this not be what I fear.
There were a few times in my life, a really precious few, that I encountered people who acted as if they saw me...only for their own actions to expose the truth, and it was that they only pretended to see me because they assumed I could be their gateway to the Marchettis.
Other times, though, and this was much, much rarer, there were people whodidsee me...for a moment.
Like Joe, the guy in my English class, and whose heart I did my best not to break even as I had to tell him the truth about Sarica and Giancarlo. And at that time, he had seen me in his brokenness, and he had needed a friend. But as soon as he had moved on, it was as if I had been a figment of his imagination, and to this day I still feel secondhand embarrassment every time I remember how I had said 'hi' to him in the hallway, and he had given me a rather awkward smile before asking if we had ever met.
I used to pray to God to please never let me go through that again, and yet here I am, hoping, wishing, and praying that's exactly the case with...him.
Ezio.
Just thinking of his name has shivers running down my spine, and I find myself hoping, wishing, and praying evenharder.
Please, please, please!
Please God.
