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January 26 - January 27, 2023
“What are you anyway? Some errand boy? Lucca’s bitch?” His lips curve. “Gonna be your fuckin’ husband. Maybe you show some respect, eh?”
Ohhhh zaaaaamnnn 😏
His small smile fades. “Come and sit.” “Are you gonna make me?” “Do you want me to?”
Oouuuuuu *laughing like a happy maniacal fangirl*
“You know this game. A man will do a hell of a lot more not to lose something he has than he will to get something he wants.”
“Hope she’s worth it,” he mutters. She is. Everything I’ve done. Everything I would do. Worth it.
“Women aren’t action figures, man. They don’t lose value ’cause someone got in their box.”
But from that moment on, it’s been Zita Graziano. That’s the answer. A shrink might be able to explain it, but I can’t. Some men have Jesus. God and country. A dream. Ambition. I have Zita.
A strange thought pops into my brain. He’s here for me. All this is because of me.
Yeah, I’m screwed. I’ve never seen Nicky laugh.
“She doesn’t believe it, but she is. She always has been. She’s a good thing in an ugly world, you know?”
Oh...my...god.... Thats the cutest most sweetest fucking thing ever TT^TT
“You took it,” I say. He swallows, and his throat bobs. “I gave it back.”
GAHHHAAHAAHAAHAAHAHAHAHAHH
“I’ve gotten us here, Zita,” he says. “I’ll get us the rest of the way.” I don’t know what he means, but it’s not a threat. More like a promise. A vow.
I am broken, but I’m not afraid.
When I fucked her out of her head, she treated me like what I am—hers.
Some men have hearts. Souls. Walls. I have Zita Graziano. I’m not ashamed. I look at her, and something inside me chants “thank you” into the void like a hallelujah. I’m weightless. Superhuman.
We could be. You make me okay. I make you okay.”
Zita hasn’t figured out yet that she can ask for whatever she wants. Maybe she never will. Maybe she won’t ever realize that there’s no such thing as “men like me.”
I’m pretty. But am I brave?
“You hate me, remember?” he says. “Do your best.”
You made me strong. Nothing could take me down after that. I had a reason to fight, you know?” “I could’ve been anyone.” “But you weren’t. You were Zita Graziano. Before I was brave, you were. And so fucking fierce. I had nothing in me except rage, but you—you had so much love, and you’ve never let anything touch it. You had a reason to fight, too.”
“You know I’d do anything for you,” he says.
