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There’s hope in the way he holds me, in the promises he makes to me. Today, for a moment, I lost everything. But he stayed.
He’s the only thing I don’t think I could live without. Fuck. I love him. I love Nico Savini. Fuck.
“I can think of one way to make you relax,” Nico says, smirking. He glances at the small bathroom. “We’ll lock the door, I’ll go to my knees and suck all those nerves right out through your dick.”
I never wanted to lose Nico. Not in this life or the next. I love him, I trust him, and my life is immeasurably better with him in it.
We were a team now. A pair. And everything was easier to carry when he was next to me. Now, I can’t imagine a world without him. Without us in it.
He leans in, his breath ghosting against my ear as we move together, every step a whisper of unspoken words. I love you. I need you. Don’t leave me.
It’s Nico and it’s ballet: that is my world.
“I want to take you home, strip you naked, and eat your ass until the sun comes up.”
“I don’t know what I did in a previous life to deserve you, Nicoló Savini, fuck knows I haven’t done much right in this one, but I’m going to make sure that from here on out you know how fucking special you are. How much I need you in my life. How much better you make me as a man, as a dancer, as a fucking human. I’m going to make sure you know how much I love you every fucking day for as long as you’ll let me. Will you? Let me?”
And you better believe that when we go to the ruins of Pompeii tomorrow, we will be holding hands. We’ll be taking cute as fuck couple photos that I’ll be uploading to Instagram the very second I’m in a Wi-Fi zone with the most sickeningly cute hashtags you can bloody imagine. Because that’s what people in love do, and while I obviously still hate him, I also happen to love him a whole lot more. #couplegoals
