Chapter 236: Love is Gentle
- RORY -
"Why do you do this?" I laugh softly, unsure of what to say now. Luciano just said he loved me again.
"Do what?" The question is an honest one. He’s genuinely wondering what I mean. There’s no teasing or sarcasm in it.
"You have to make this final or something. Like I’m the last one, the only one. There’s no indecision or... or doubt."
"That’s right," he says softly, and the sound of his voice is so beautiful. It makes me ache.
"But..." I look around for some help, for some explanation as to why that seems so terrifying to me. "It’s just, it’s so soon. And like I said, you don’t know me. Not really. Not all of it."
"I know enough that I’m certain... whatever else there is, it’s not going to scare me away. I’m here to battle it with you."
"What if it’s not a battle?" I ask desperately. "What if it’s just pain? And heartache? And depths that are hard to dig myself out of? What then?"
A sadness overtakes him that I have to look away from. It looks too much like pity, and that’s the last thing I need or want.
"Then I’ll be there with you for that, too."
I don’t know why, but tears start welling that I can’t stop. There’s a cavern inside my chest that they flow from, and I know this cavern too well. Once they start, they’re endless. That’s why I bury this place so deep.
I turn toward the bedroom, needing to hide this ugly thing inside that I can’t explain to Luci much less expect him to understand. But he reaches for me, his hand curling around my waist, and draws me back.
"You don’t need to hide anything," he says softly again. The tenderness shatters something inside of me, and I try pulling away from him only for him to hold me patiently, making me stay to confront these feelings in front of him.
The feeling of being trapped makes a deep anger rise, and I try to push away from him—hitting him repeatedly with soft fists that turn harder with my building frustration.
"That’s right, Lorelei. Get it out," he says above me, and that makes me angrier.
How dare he be so patient and caring? How dare he act like he has any idea about what’s going on inside of me? He doesn’t know. He can’t possibly know what this feels like—not the true depths of it. Not really.
"Let me go, Luciano!" I growl through clenched teeth, still struggling against him.
"Why?"
"Because!"
"Because why?" Instead of amusement at the childish question, I still hear only patience in his voice.
"Because you can’t possibly love me. Not the real me. The real me is too twisted and broken. You have no idea."
"You think I don’t know twisted and broken, Lorelei?" His voice is gentle, spoken so close, undeterred by the violence that’s clawing its way out of me.
"Not like this. Not like me."
"I’m more twisted and broken than you know, dolcezza. Maybe that’s the part of me that identifies with you. You don’t have to hide that part from me."
Luciano is so strong. It’s no use trying to get away when he’s determined to keep me. With that realization—with the helplessness that I’ve carried around in the pit of my stomach for a decade cresting once again—I stop fighting and sag against him.
He gathers me close and kisses the top of my head.
"You can fight me all you want," he says, his lips moving against my hair. "I can take it. You aren’t going to scare me off."
"I don’t want to fight. I don’t think I can anymore."
"Sure you can." He pulls far enough away that he can lift my chin, forcing me to look at him. "The fight in you is endless. Don’t ever lose that. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. Okay?"
I groan and shake my head, wordlessly arguing but also giving in and accepting the comfort of his attention and his body against mine even though I can’t allow myself to believe him. It’s too big of a risk. He’s too good to be true. He’s too sincere.
"You can’t love me, can you?" He asks gently, and the smile that accompanies that unexpected question makes something else break inside—something that wasn’t already broken. "It’s okay, dolcezza. You don’t have to. I’ll be here anyway. Nothing else is going to happen to you, I promise."
"That’s not fair to you," I say instead of what I want to say: that it’s not true. That I CAN love him. That I want to.
"I’m not interested in what’s fair," he says with that same smile—the sad one. The one resigned to this fate of believing he loves someone who can’t love him back. It’s awful. "Nothing has ever been fair. That’s not how life works. Right?"
His dark brows arch, seeking an answer, and I shake my head. No, life isn’t fair. That’s not how it works.
"Should I go lie down in bed so you can beat me up some more?" He smirks. "I won’t fight back."
"I didn’t beat you up," I scoff, cringing at the thought of actually hurting him.
"You can definitely do better, that’s for sure," he says. "Come give me another scar, dolcezza. It will make you feel better."
I follow him, letting him pull me by the hand. And then his confession echoes in my thoughts. He told his parents that I’m the one, that he loves me. How can he be that sure? But then again... how can I not?
Haven’t I had enough confirmation from the dreams? Haven’t I felt the truth of how he is my security—the one I will run to when someone is chasing me? What else do I need? The assurance that only time can give?
Maybe Luciano is right. Maybe I can’t love him. Maybe I can’t love anyone. Maybe I’m not capable of it or of recognizing when someone else loves me wholly and truly without any reservations. Except for Raya and Nana, I’ve just... never had that. Ever. I’m not even sure Raya loves me that way... not if she knew everything I keep inside.
Once we’re in the bedroom, Luciano flops backwards on the bed with a smile, curling his arms behind his head—leaving the length of himself exposed for me. And all I can do is stare.
"What are you waiting for?" He asks with that sexy smirk. "Let it all out. I can take it."
"What?" I scoff. "You actually want me to get angry and hurt you?"
"You need to let it out, right?" He shrugs, and my eyes track the movement of his biceps. "And you haven’t been able to. You don’t have to hide any of that from me. It’s not going to scare me, dolcezza. I’ve seen worse. Much, much worse. And I’m not going to judge you for it."
The fact that he is willing to lay here and submit himself to whatever I do to him without any recourse probably shouldn’t make heat flame in my body like this.
"I don’t want to hurt you, Luci. I don’t want you getting hurt either."
My cheeks are burning now as my attention turns fully to his body, and I wonder what I could do—how I could make him squirm and whimper and tremble beneath my hands.
"Yes you do." His voice is so deep, amusement threaded through it. "And I want you to. Come on."
He reaches for me, extending a hand and pulling me toward the bed. But I stop right next to it.
"I don’t know what to do," I admit, swallowing past the lump in my throat.
"Whatever you want."
My heart flutters wildly in my chest, and I’m not sure if it’s panic or excitement or fear. When I don’t move, frozen in place by the novelty of this offer, his chin dips, gesturing toward himself.
"Climb on, Rory."
I do as he says, slowly climbing over him until I’m straddling his waist. And now my whole body may as well be a flame with the way that I’m burning on top of him, feeling the solid width of his body between my legs.
Those unspeakable emotions are overflowing from his eyes again as he watches me, looking up through dark lashes, so patient and still and... loving. My hands reach, trailing lightly down his chest and stopping at the first scar. He doesn’t even flinch.
"Anger and violence are easier, aren’t they?" I ask through thick emotion, tracing that part of his skin that bears a painful memory. It has to. How has Luciano built himself so much armor that it doesn’t even bother him? "I think it’s the gentle things that are harder."
Love is gentle. And that’s hard. Maybe I’m stuck in between—between the anger and the love. I can’t give myself entirely over to either one.
"Maybe you have to embrace the anger before you can feel the gentle things, dolcezza."
