Welcome to my masterlist! All writings are properly tagged (smut, fluff, light angst). If you see one tagged as smut, please do not interact if you are under 18.
tag list | tip-jar | ao3 | rec
Papa Emeritus II: Secondo
âž» Barista Preferita (ao3 / smut) +18
Papa Emeritus II x female reader
Words: 5.869Â
âž» Silent Bonds (ao3 / fluff, smut) +18
Papa Emeritus II x gender neutral reader
Words: 26.401 (4 Chapters in 1 post)
Papa Emeritus III: Terzo
âž» Louise (ao3 / fluff, smut) +18
Papa Emeritus III x female reader
Words: 2.755Â Â
âž» Little Lamb (ao3 / smut) +18
Papa Emeritus III x female reader
Words: 6.034
âž» Eternal (ao3 / fluff, smut) +18
Papa Emeritus III x female reader
Words: 3.723
Papa Emeritus IV: Copia
âž» Serendipity (ao3 / fluff, smut) +18
Papa Emeritus IV x Female Reader
Words: 97.516
Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7
Cardinal Copia
âž» Love Letter (ao3 / fluff, smut, light angst) +18
Cardinal Copia x Female reader
Words: 72.932
Chapters: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9
Art based on Chapter 2 by @quaildoodle
âž» The Cardinal's Biretta (ao3 / smut) +18
Cardinal Copia x Female Reader
Words: 4.931
Pas de Deux: Ballet Teacher Copia x Fem!Reader | Pt. 2
Summary: Tonight is the night of the trip to the location where the first ballet performance will take place. However, ever since the night you and Copia danced together, your thoughts have been intertwining freely, distracting you like the dance you shared. And now, the performance is getting closer and closer.
Words: 31.944
Warnings: Smut (semi-public sex; teasing; dirty talk; oral sex m-f; cunnilingus; fingering; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding; stockings) | Swearing | Italian Swearing
Part 2 (Chapter 3, 4 & 5) available on AO3
tag list | tip-jar
PART 1 (ao3)
Racing through the streets, you couldnât shake the lingering memories of yesterdayâs class from your mind. Dancing with Copia had felt different, unlike anything youâd experienced before. With Anton, it was you playing a role, acting out Julietâs love for Romeo, feigning the chemistry. But with Copia, it was as if you were simply living it, feeling it, no pretense, just pure chemistry. It was natural.
Which actually felt very odd. You weren't used to feeling such a strong connection with someone so quickly, especially not in a professional setting like a dance class. Yet, there was something about Copia's presence, his gentle demeanor, and the way he looked at you that made you feel something. It was both exhilarating and unnerving.
Reaching for the door of the studio building, you wasted no time in pushing it open and rushing inside. The familiar strains of music echoed through the corridor, indicating that the class had indeed already begun. With a sense of urgency, you reached for the door of the studio and pushed it open hastily.
As you entered the studio room, the sight of dancers in motion greeted you, their graceful movements synchronized to the rhythm of the music. At the front of the room, Copia stood with his back to the door, completely absorbed in guiding the dancers through their routine. Taking advantage of his distraction, you hurried to the dressing room to get ready for class.
With efficiency, you shed your outer layers of clothing, revealing the ballet attire you wore underneath. Quickly slipping into your ballet shoes, you took a moment to gather your composure before joining the class.
As you exited the dressing room and made your way back to the studio, you spotted Copia standing on the other side of the room. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if Copia had noticed your late arrival. However, before you could react, he turned his head around, and his eyes locked with yours. Almost immediately, his face brightened, and he gave you a nod, silently acknowledging your presence. You got surprised by his warm reception, as you had expected him to be angry about your tardiness.
However, Copiaâs suddenly change in demeanor caught you off guard. Shaking his head, his gaze shifted away from you, focusing solely on the group of dancers. It felt like a sudden shift in the atmosphere, leaving you feeling bewildered. Was it because of your tardiness? Or was there something else going on that you were unaware of?
Copia's voice cut through the room, interrupting your conversation. "Molto bene, everyone," he announced, his tone commanding attention. "Let's take a brief pause. And when we return, I'd like the main couple to come to the center to practice."
As his words hung in the air, he paused the music, and a hush fell over the studio. The only sound was the soft shuffle of ballet slippers as dancers began to disperse, retreating to the corners of the room or making their way to the dressing room. Amidst the movement, Anton quietly made his way toward you.
"Morning classes aren't for you?" Anton teased, leaning against the wall beside you.
"Anton!" You exclaimed, surprised by his sudden appearance.
"Hello," he greeted with a chuckle. "I was worried about you being late. Is everything okay?"
You flashed him a sympathetic smile. "I just overslept," you confessed sheepishly. "What about you? What happened yesterday?"
Anton's expression grew somber as he sighed deeply. "Well... It didn't go well after I left..."
"Why?" you prompted gently.
Anton sighed, his expression turned somber. "The call... It was my partner. Well, they asked me to meet them and... well, they broke up with me? I guess? I'm not sure."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Anton," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "That must be really tough. Is everything okay with you? Do you need to talk?"
"Yeah, and no," Anton nodded, managing a weak smile. "Dancing is the only thing that would help me forget about it, even just for a little while."
"Well, I'm here for you," you said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "And if you ever need to talk, you know."
"Thank you," Anton said, his smile growing slightly.
You stepped closer to Anton, enveloping him in a warm embrace. He returned the gesture, resting his head on your shoulder and releasing a deep sigh as he held you tightly. You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment. But as Anton stepped back, you reluctantly returned to reality, letting go of the comforting embrace.
"I owe you an apology," Anton said.
"You don't have to," you replied softly.
"But I do," Anton insisted with a chuckle, his gaze sincere. "I'm sorry for leaving you alone yesterday. I should have stayed here. After all, I suggested for us to practice."
You smiled, appreciating his apology. "I won't accept it because, no, you shouldn't," you said. "But, thanks, Anton."
"So," he started. "How did it go? Did Mr. Copia say anything?"
"Oh... Actually..." you replied, casting a quick glance towards Copia who was engaged in conversation with the other dancers. "...He didn't."
Anton glanced at Copia before returning his attention to you. "So, he was okay with me leaving?"
"Yeah, he didn't mention it at all," you confirmed.
"No comments?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Not a word," you replied.
"And how's your ankle holding up?" Anton inquired.
"So far, so good," you reassured him.
"Good to know. So, what happened after I left?" Anton inquired, his curiosity evident in his voice.
"Well," you began with a playful giggle, "Mr. Copia offered to continue the practice with me, and we danced... together?"
"You what!?" Anton exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief. "Are you asking me about it or telling me?"
"We danced together," you repeated.
"You? And the new teacher?" he asked, clearly surprised. "And how was it?"
"Yeah," you confirmed, a slight blush creeping onto your cheeks. "It was... interesting."
Anton raised an eyebrow, studying your expression closely. "Interesting?"
"I mean, yeah," you replied, trying to downplay the significance of the encounter. "He's a good dancer."
Anton nodded before scanning the room. "And how did it go? How long did you two practice?"
"It was alright," you responded, your eyes tracking Anton's to where Copia held the attention of the dancers in the center of the studio. "We only went through the steps me and you were already working on, but afterward, things got a bit strange."
"The same...? The balcony scene!?" He exclaimed. "But wait! Strange? How so?"
"It's hard to explain," you began, your voice trailing off as you watched Copia. "There was just something about dancing with him... It felt different, but in a good way."
Anton furrowed his brow, trying to understand. "Different and strange? How?"
"It's like... I don't know," you sighed, struggling to find the right words. "It's hard to describe, but it felt like..."
Your words trailed off as a wave of uncertainty washed over you, the weight of your emotions threatening to spill out in front of Anton. Dancing with Copia had stirred feelings within you that felt too raw, too vulnerable to voice aloud. It was as if you were teetering on the edge of exposing yourself, of revealing the depths of emotions swirling beneath the surface.
As you considered confiding in Anton, a sense of caution held you back. Would he understand the tumultuous whirlwind of emotions you were experiencing? Would he see your vulnerability as a weakness, or worse, as an overreaction to a simple dance? The fear of being perceived as too emotional, of reading too much into something that might be nothing, made you hesitate.
In the end, you excused yourself from the conversation with Anton, offering a quick apology as you made your way across the studio. Your heart beat a little faster with each step, anticipation mingling with apprehension as you approached Copia, the man who had ignited a storm of emotions within you with just a Pass de Deux.
You approached Copia, clearing your throat to get his attention. "Mr. Copia, I wanted to apologize for being late today. It won't happen again."
Copia turned to you, his expression cold and distant. "It's not acceptable to be late," he replied curtly.
You felt a pang of guilt and embarrassment at his response. "I understand, and I'm truly sorry," you murmured, feeling the weight of his disapproval.
Copia's response was brief and clipped. "Just make sure you're on time from now on. Punctuality is crucial."
Feeling a bit unsettled by Copia's cold demeanor, you tried to break the tension. "Is there anything specific you'd like me to focus on during today's practice?" you asked.
Copia let out a sigh before responding, "No, just make sure to keep up with the pace."
"Is everything alright, Mr. Copia?" you inquired.
The door of the dressing room swung open, releasing a stream of dancers back into the studio. Copia's attention shifted toward the commotion, his lips parting as if to speak, yet no words escaped. Turning your gaze away from Copia, you glanced at the mirror behind him, observing the dancers regrouping in the studio.
He paused for a moment, then nodded, turning his gaze back to you. "SĂŹ, everything's fine. Grazie for asking. Now, per favore, prepare yourself for the warm-up."
You nodded, though not entirely convinced, and decided not to press further. Stepping back from him, you took a deep breath and seamlessly integrated yourself among the other dancers, finding your place within the group.
Copia approached you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he adjusted your posture. âKeep your shoulders down and your hips square,â he murmured, his voice low but firm.
You nodded, feeling the warmth of his touch seeping into your skin as you made the necessary adjustments âSorry, Mr. Copia,â you murmured, trying to hide your flustered state.
âDon't apologize, you're doing great,â he added, his touch lingering on your arm as he guided you into a deeper stretch. "I just don't want you to get hurt again."
You couldnât help but shiver at the contact, his fingers sending sparks of electricity dancing across your skin. âThank you,â you replied with a chuckle, trying to focus on your breathing as he continued to adjust your position.
Once he was done, Copia moved on to assist another dancer, you couldnât help but watch him with a sense of admiration. His movements were fluid and graceful, his expertise evident in every gesture as he guided the dancer through the steps.
You followed his instructions, feeling the familiar burn of exertion in your muscles as you moved through the exercises. After a final series of stretches and port de bras, Copia called for a brief break.
"Take a moment to catch your breath," he said, his tone gentle yet firm. "And then we'll begin with the first sequence of our Romeo and Giulietta."
Taking a moment to rest, you felt the sweat glistening on your skin as you tried to steady your breathing. You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes for a brief moment before sensing a gentle touch on your shoulder. Slowly, you opened your eyes to find Copia standing before you.
"Are you alright?" he inquired, his tone laced with concern as his eyes met yours.
"Yes, I'm fine," you reassured him with a small smile.
"Is your ankle bothering you?" he pressed, his brows furrowing slightly.
"Not at all," you replied with a chuckle. "I'm perfectly fine, Mr. Copia. Thank you for asking."
Copia's expression softened slightly as he extended locked his gaze on yours, "Would you like to grab a coffee with me?"
Surprised, you hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. "Sure, that sounds good. Where do you have in mind?"
"Eh... at the reception...?" Copia glanced towards the door, then back at you.
"Oh! You meant right now!" You chuckled softly, nodding in response. "I just need to quickly grab my shoes from the dressing room." You gestured towards the direction of the dressing room.
Copia nodded in understanding, his gaze briefly flickering to your ballet slippers. "Of course, take your time." He offered a supportive smile. "Shall I wait for you here?"
"No, please," you replied, returning his smile. "I'll meet you there."
Copia's nod of understanding lingered as you turned away, striding purposefully towards the dressing room. As you entered, you wasted no time in locating your locker. With practiced efficiency, you swiftly opened it, retrieving your bag and placing it on the bench before you. Carefully, you unzipped it, extracting your shoes and setting them aside.
Sitting down on the bench, you slipped off your ballet slippers, replacing them with your shoes. Once you were finished, you stood up, placing your bag inside your locker and left the dressing room behind.
Navigating the studio space, you headed towards the door, eager to meet Copia at the reception. When you arrived, you spotted Copia sitting on a bench in the corner, holding two small cups of coffee in his hands. You glanced at the receptionist and waved, but she purposefully averted her gaze, ignoring your gesture. Confusion creased your brow as you turned to Copia for some explanation. His gaze met yours as you approached, and he offered you a small smile, gesturing for you to join him.
"Hey," he greeted softly as you sat down beside him. "I thought we could use a little break. It's been quite a morning, sĂŹ?"
You chuckled nervously, feeling a bit awkward about the whole situation. "I guess," you replied.
Copia nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee before setting the cup down on the bench. "I just thought it might be nice to chat outside of the studio."
"Yeah, it feels good," you said. "Although, I have to admit, Iâm not quite sure why we are here."
Copiaâs cheeks flushed slightly, and he shifted uncomfortably on the bench. "Well, you see, I⊠uh⊠I may have been a bit too harsh earlier," he admitted, avoiding your gaze.
You couldnât help but smile at his awkwardness. "Itâs okay, really. I understand the importance of punctuality," you reassured him, reaching out to pat his arm gently.
Copia let out a nervous laugh, his embarrassment evident. "But, I should have been more comprehensible. I just⊠I donât know, I wanted to make it up to you somehow."
"Well, coffee is definitely a step in the right direction," you joked, causing Copia to chuckle along with you. "Are you sure you invited me for a coffee break just because of it?"
"SĂŹ, sĂŹ," he replied. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that. I hope you can forgive me."
"Don't worry, Mr. Copia," you reassured, taking a sip. "It's fine. And there's nothing to forgive. We all have our moments."
"Grazie," Copia smiled gratefully at your response, visibly relieved. "I'm glad to hear that," he said, taking another sip of his own coffee. "Also, I didnât know how you liked your coffee," he admitted. "So I⊠I made it like mine. I wasn't sure if you preferred it black or with milk and sugar."
You chuckled softly. "Honestly, I'm not too picky when it comes to coffee. As long as it's not too bitter, I'm good."
"Well, that's a relief," Copia replied with a chuckle of his own. "I was afraid I might have ruined it for you."
"Nah, it's perfect," you reassured him, taking another sip. "Thanks for the coffee. It was a nice move."
Copia's smile widened. "Anytime," he said warmly. "I thought we could both use a little break from the studio."
"Why do you think we need a break?" you asked, intrigued.
"I... eh... I... Well, maybe with the performance coming up, you might be feeling a bit pressured," he suggested. "So, I thought I'd invite you for a coffee and apologize because how I behaved earlier wasn't fair."
You chuckled softly and shook your head. "No need to keep apologizing, Mr. Copia. Everything's fine, really."
Copia's expression softened, and he nodded gratefully. "Grazie," he said sincerely, but then his expression turned sheepish. âActually, do you want to hear a funny story...â he trailed off, looking slightly embarrassed.
âWhat is it?â you asked, intrigued.
âI⊠didnât have any change for the coffee machine, so I asked the receptionist to lend me some coins,â he confessed, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. âAnd then, well, she thought I was buying her a coffee too, so I had to awkwardly explain that it was for youâŠâ
You couldnât help but laugh at the situation, finding it both amusing and endearing. âWell, I guess that explains why she didn't replied me when I got here,â you teased gently, taking a sip of your drink.
Copia tried to stifle his laughter, but it bubbled out of him uncontrollably. You couldn't help but join in, the sound of your laughter mingling together, filling the reception with warmth.
Copia chuckled one last time before turning his gaze towards you. "So, how have you been feeling about the upcoming performance?" he inquired.
You took a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. "Honestly, I'm feeling a bit nervous," you admitted. "It's my first big performance, and I want to do well."
Copia's expression softened, and he placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "I understand," he said gently. "But you've been working so hard, and I have no doubt that you'll shine on stage. Just remember to trust yourself and your abilities. And I'll be there to support you."
"Thank you, Mr. Copia," you said sincerely, with a grateful smile.
"Call me as Copia only," he said with a warm smile. "And anytime you need someone to talk to or some extra practice, I'm here for you."
You nodded. "Thank you, Copia."
"I wanted to ask," he began, "as we're nearing the performance and the travel plans are set, have you found any challenges with any particular sequences?"
Copiaâs question drew your attention, and you paused in your movements to consider his words. It was true that the performance was approaching rapidly, and you knew that every detail would need to be perfect.
You thought for a moment, reflecting on the sequences you had been practicing in recent weeks. There were a few that had proved challenging, but you were hesitant to admit it to Copia. After all, you didnât want to appear incompetent in front of him.
âNot particularly,â you replied. âIâve been working on the sequences I've been practicing, and theyâre coming along well.â
âGood to hear,â he said. âBut if you do encounter any difficulties, donât hesitate to let me know. We can work on them together.â
âWell... there are a couple of sequences that Iâve been struggling with,â you admitted. âBut Iâm determined to get better before the performance.â
"I'm sure you don't have to worry about that," Copia took a last sip of his coffee. "Shall we head back, Giulietta?" he asked.
Finishing your coffee, you nodded in agreement. As you both rose from the bench, you tossed the empty cups into the trash bin nearby. Walking side by side, you made your way back towards the studio. However, halfway there, Copia suddenly stopped and turned to you.
"I just want to apologize again before we get back to the studio," Copia said, his tone sincere as he approached you.
You shook your head gently, offering a reassuring smile. "Mr. Copia, please, you don't have to."
"But I want to," he insisted, his expression earnest. "I just feel a little stressed today and I let my emotions get the better of me."
"Why? What's wrong?" you inquired, concern evident in your voice.
"Today, at night, is the travel, sĂŹ?" Copia asked, seeking confirmation from you. When you nodded, he continued, "I guess I feel a little anxious about how things will be there. I'll be staying with you guys through the last days until the big day."
"Mr. Copia, trust me," you said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Everything will be fine. After all, you're a very good teacher, and we've been practicing for so long with Conti. We know what to do, and you'll help us with anything that needs fixing before the big day. I think you're more than capable."
"Thank you, Giulietta," Copia replied, gratitude evident in his voice. "By the way," he continued, his voice softening. "I realized I don't even know your name."
Your cheeks flushed with warmth as Copia's question caught you off guard. It was such a simple question, yet it made you feel a bit timid. You told him your name, trying to sound confident despite the slight tremor in your voice. Copia repeated your name with a smile, as if savoring the sound of it.
After it, you resumed your walk back to the studio, with Copia falling into step beside you. As you reached the door, he held it open for you, and you entered the studio with him following closely behind.
Feeling Copia's hand on your lower back, you turned to him, meeting his gaze. His touch was gentle as his thumb moved slightly. "Go put your slippers on," he instructed, his voice soft yet firm, "and as you come back, we shall start."
You nodded, your gaze lingering on him for a moment before you pressed your lips together in a silent acknowledgment. Copia withdrew his hand from your back with a subtle nod, and you felt a lingering warmth where his touch had been. As he moved to the other corner of the studio, you turned and made your way towards the dressing room.
Inside, you went to your locker and retrieved your ballet slippers, exchanging your shoes for them. With a quick change, you emerged from the dressing room and returned to the studio,
"Alright, let's begin," he announced, his voice carrying authority. "Today, we'll focus on refining our movements and perfecting our technique. As you all know, we will be traveling by the end of the evening, and our training will continue there." He scanned the room, ensuring everyone was attentive. "We'll gather here at the studio, and then depart for the city together on a bus. Does anyone have any questions?"
The dancers exchanged glances, but no one spoke. Copia continued.
"Since there are no questions, let's continue," Copia declared, bringing his hands together with a decisive clap. "Giulietta, Romeo, could you join me at the center? We'll begin with you, then transition to the group dance."
You and Anton stepped forward, making your way to the center of the studio, stopping in front of Copia. With a single nod of acknowledgment, Copia turned toward the mirrors, making his way to the music player. As he instructed, you and Anton quickly assumed your positions, poised and ready to perform the scene designated by Copia.
With the song beginning to play, you and Anton moved in synchrony, each step and gesture perfectly timed to the rhythm. The music guiding your movements as if you were extensions of its melody.
As you and Anton danced the parts of Romeo and Juliet under Copia's watchful guidance, the studio seemed to hold its breath, every movement infused with emotion and purpose. Copia's instructions were precise, his eyes following your every step as he guided you through the scene. Around you, the other dancers watched intently, their expressions filled with admiration and concentration.
After your part with Anton concluded, the other dancers took their turn at the center, each performance a testament to their dedication and skill. You and Anton observed from the sidelines, however, your eyes often found their way to Copia, who stood at the edge of the studio.
As the practice continued, Copia's guidance remained steadfast, offering compliments and encouragement to each dancer. With every pose and movement, Copia's nods of approval and subtle smiles were like affirmations, validating the effort you poured into each movement. Time seemed to blur as the hours passed, each moment filled with the intensity of the passion for dance.
With the final hours of practice approached, you, and the rest of the dancers posed breathless in the last moments of the routine. With the music fading, Copia's applause broke the silence.
"Bravi, bravissimi," Copia exclaimed in Italian, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "I can see the dedication and hard work you all have put into your craft!" Copia smiled, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "I believe we have a few more minutes left in today's class," he announced. "However, considering our upcoming trip in just a few hours, I'll dismiss you all a bit early today to allow time for preparations. We will reconvene in a few hours, sĂŹ?"
As Copia's words signaled the end of the class, a round of applause filled the studio, a collective cheerful action of a productive session. You joined in, clapping along with them. But there was no time to waste. Swiftly, you made your way to the dressing room, your mind already focused on the tasks ahead.
Inside the dressing room, you headed straight to your locker, retrieving your bag and dressing in your street clothes. Ballet slippers removed and shoes donned, you joined the stream of dancers exiting the dressing room, with the strap of your bag slung over your shoulder.
Back in the studio, you scanned the room. The reason was obvious, although you didn't know why. Maybe it was just to say "See you later." But for your unlucky, Copia had already departed. Disappointed but understanding, you made your way to the door. As you exited the building, your attention suddenly was drawn to Copia, who was engaged in conversation with the receptionist. You slowed your pace, curiosity piqued by the unexpected sight. Caught in the act of being observed, Copia's reaction was a blend of embarrassment and amusement, evident in the widened eyes and sheepish smile he directed your way. You returned the gesture with a wave, then continued on your way, leaving the studio behind, hurrying on your way back to your home.
Arriving home, you wasted no time, immediately heading to your room and dropping your bag on the floor. With a sense of urgency, you began to undress. As you stepped into the shower, the hot water cascading over your skin, you felt the tension of the day begin to melt away.
The rhythm of the water drummed against your thoughts, bringing with it memories of dancing with Copia. Images of his touch lingered in your mind, and you couldn't help but replay the moments where his hands had guided yours. How he touched you. How he didn't kiss you. Could it have been an act of respect? Yet, amidst the warmth of the shower, a sense of unease crept in, a feeling of uncertainty clouding your thoughts.
As you continued to shower, you closed your eyes, hoping to find solace in the solitude of the moment. But the memory of dancing with Copia lingered, leaving you conflicted and unsettled. With a sigh, you reluctantly ended your shower, wrapping yourself in a towel before making your way back to your room, eager to leave the turmoil of your thoughts behind.
Inside your room, you opened your wardrobe, scanning the array of clothing for something suitable for the trip. Opting for comfort, you chose an ensemble that was perfect without sacrificing your personal style.
Turning your attention to your luggage, you began the task of organizing your belongings. Time seemed to slip away unnoticed as you packed each item finding its place within the confines of your bag. It was only when you glanced at the clock that you realized how quickly the hours had passed.
With a start, you realized you were nearing the time to depart for the studio. Though you knew they wouldn't leave without you, the thought of keeping the others waiting spurred you into action. Hastily finishing your packing, you grabbed your bag and hurried out the door, leaving your home, making your way back to the studio.
As you arrived back to the studio, the urgency of your steps propelled you forward, perhaps a bit faster than necessary. By the time you arrived, you were not only on time but also a little breathless and sweating. Stepping into the studio building, you spotted some dancers already gathered, their faces offering a smile and friendly waves as you passed by.
Making your way to the nearest bench, you gratefully sank into its welcoming embrace, the cool surface providing a soothing contrast to your warm skin. With a contented sigh, you leaned back against the bench, embracing the tranquility of the moment. Having arrived on time, you allowed yourself a moment of relaxation before the trip.
As you began to settle into the peaceful ambiance of the studio, the door swung open, drawing your attention. A familiar figure stepped insideâit was Copia. This was the first time you had seen him outside of his ballet attire, and there was something amusing about witnessing teachers in more casual clothing.
You shifted on the bench, watching as Copia waved to some of the dancers before making his way over to a nearby bench. As he settled in and placed his bag beside him, he let out a sigh, his leg bouncing nervously. His gaze swept around the room until it met yours, and he offered a shy wave, resting his hand on his thigh.
"Buonasera," Copia greeted you.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Copia," you replied, smiling at him.
Your response elicited a sparkle in Copia's eyes. With a soft smile, he gracefully stood up and approached you. "You danced beautifully today," he remarked, his gaze lingering on yours as he settled beside you.
A blush crept onto your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you, Mr. Copia."
As Copia's compliment hung in the air, a strange silence settled between the two of you. You felt a flutter of nerves as Copia's leg began to shake nervously once more. Searching for something to fill the awkward quiet, you feigned interest in the surroundings, darting your eyes from one spot to another in an attempt to appear unpreoccupied.
Glancing around, you noticed a few dancers stealing curious glances at you and Copia, their expressions full of speculations. The weight of their scrutiny added to the tension in the air. As the silence stretched on, tension mounting between you and Copia, you both seemed to reach a silent agreement to break the awkwardness.
Simultaneously, you both opened your mouths to speak.
"I was just thinkingâ" you began, just as Copia started with, "I couldn't help but noticeâ" Caught off guard by the synchronized start, you both chuckled softly. Copia gestured for you to continue.
"I was just thinking about how different it is to see you out of your usual ballet attire," you admitted, a sheepish grin tugging at your lips.
Copia's eyes crinkled at the corners as he nodded in agreement. "It's different, sĂŹ?" he replied, his tone warm and genuine. "But I must say, it's quite refreshing."
"Refreshing?" you repeated.
Copia chuckled softly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Eh, you caught me," he admitted, his tone teasing. "I must confess, I do enjoy the occasional break from the leotards and tights."
You laughed in response. "Honestly? I guess we all do," you remarked, offering him a playful wink. "Though I must admit, it's a bit strange to see you without your ballet slippers."
Copia grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his gaze. "Euh, but you see, even without them, I can still dance circles around you," he teased.
You feigned offense, a mock gasp escaping your lips. "You could what? Is that a challenge, Mr. Copia?" you retorted. "Because I think we'll need to put that to the test."
Copia's grin widened, his eyes alight with amusement. "Oh, I wouldn't have it any other way, Giulietta," he replied.
You chuckled and playfully nudged your knees against his. "So, what were you going to say before?"
Copia's lips quirked into a lopsided smile at your playful gesture. "Euh... Eh," he began, his expression softened. "I couldn't help but notice that you tend to keep to yourself around the other dancers," he remarked, his voice gentle yet probing. "Is there a reason for that?"
"Oh, um," you stammered, struggling to find the right words.
"I'm sorry for asking you that," he said, gently resting only the tips of his fingers on your thigh in a feather-light touch. "You don't have to tell me."
"It's okay, Mr. Copia," you reassured him with a soft smile. "There isn't a specific reason for that, to be honest. I talk to all of them." You chuckled softly. "But when it comes to a friend I enjoy talking to, Anton is usually the first one that comes to mind."
"Oh," he exclaimed, withdrawing his fingertips from your thigh. "I hope I'm not bothering you."
"Of course not!" you quickly responded, turning your body to face him. "I enjoy talking to you, Mr. Copia."
Copia's cheeks tinted with a faint blush as he met your gaze. "I-I'm glad to hear that," he stammered, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. "I enjoy our conversations too."
A warm smile tugged at your lips as you took in his shy admission. "It's nice," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "Talking to you feels... calm, and easy."
Copia's gaze softened at your words, a gentle warmth suffusing his features. "It's the same for me," he confessed, his tone earnest. "I know we haven't delved into many topics beyond ballet and the upcoming presentation." He chuckled softly. "But I find our conversations about those subjects to be quite enjoyable."
Just as the conversation began to flow between you, a voice interrupted from across the room. "Mr. Copia, the bus driver is looking for you," one of the dancers called out, breaking the spell of intimacy between you.
Copia's expression shifted, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes as he turned to face the dancer. "Grazie," he replied, his voice tinged with disappointment. "I guess it's time for me to go."
You nodded understandingly, feeling a pang of disappointment. "Of course, duty calls," you said with a small smile, masking the hint of sadness in your voice.
Copia rose from the bench, offering you a warm smile. "Grazie for the conversation," he said softly, his gaze lingering on yours. "I'll see you soon, sĂŹ?"
"Huh... Yes?" You returned his smile, feeling a sense of longing tug at your heart. "Definitely, especially since we'll be on the same bus," you replied.
"Eh! Right, right!" he exclaimed, grabbing his bag and nodding in agreement. "So, see you soon, Giulietta!"
You chuckled softly, observing Copia's departure as he headed towards the door. Settling back onto the bench, you crossed your legs and folded your arms, allowing your mind to wander freely. Copia's words lingered in your thoughts, prompting a realization that he was right. Your conversations had revolved primarily around ballet, dance routines, and the upcoming presentation, sprinkled with compliments.
As you reflected on Copia's departure, a nagging question lingered in your mind: who was this man? Sure, you knew some tidbits about him, but ever since the day you danced together, a strange sensation had taken root within you. Every time you recalled the way he held you, guiding your movements with such precision, a fluttering sensation stirred in your stomach. Your cheeks would flush with warmth, and an uncontrollable smile would tug at your lips. It was as if the dance itself spoke by itself, transcending mere words. Dancing with Copia felt like more than just a choreographed routine; it was a perfect melding of bodies, a dance of souls intertwining and connecting on a deeper level.
Was it too bold, too presumptuous to entertain such notions? You couldn't deny the chemistry between you and Copia on the dance floor, but perhaps you were reading too much into it. After all, it was just a danceâa fleeting moment of connection. Were you overthinking? It was easy to get caught up in romantic fantasies, but reality often had a way of tempering such desires and only time would reveal the true nature of your connection with Copia.
As the door swung open once more, the bus driver's call pierced through the air, signaling the time to embark. With a resigned sigh, you rose from the bench, gathering your luggage in hand as you followed the stream of dancers out of the building. Outside, you lined up with the others, patiently waiting your turn to stow your belongings in the compartment of the bus.
Amidst the hustle and bustle, a sudden arm wrapping around your waist startled you, causing you to instinctively turn your head, your eyes widened in surprise before relaxing at the sight of Anton behind you. A nervous chuckle escaped your lips at your own jumpiness.
With the line gradually dwindling, you and Anton eventually reached the front, handing your luggage to the driver before making your way onto the bus. Making a beeline for the last seats at the back, you settled in beside Anton.
"So, how are you feeling about the trip? Excited?" Anton's voice was eager, his wide smile reaching his eyes as he gently clasped your hand.
You began to respond, but something caught your attentionâAnton's hand felt clammy against yours. "Anton... Why did you arrive now?" you questioned, concern lacing your words.
Anton's smile faltered, replaced by a sigh of resignation. "I..." He hesitated, his gaze shifting away momentarily before returning to meet yours. "Why do you know me so well?"
"I didn't say anything," you countered gently, reaching out to grasp his hand again. "But you've been arriving late lately, except for yesterday. And now, here you are just in time for the trip. You look like you've been running, and I know you live nearby..."
Anton chuckled softly, drawing closer to you and resting his head on your shoulder. "Why are you so observant?"
You couldn't help but smile at Anton's playful question. "I guess I just pay attention to the little details," you replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
Anton sighed, his expression growing somber as he shifted slightly in his seat. "Well," he began, his voice tinged with remorse. "After our morning class, I went home, but... my ex-partner called me for one last conversation before we officially part ways."
"I'm sorry, Anton," you murmured sympathetically, gently rubbing his hand in a gesture of comfort.
"Yeah, it's been a tough morning," Anton admitted, a shadow passing over his features. "I didn't mean to keep anyone waiting. I rushed back as soon as I could, but time just slipped away."
You nodded understandingly, offering him a supportive smile. "It's okay, Anton. We all have our moments," you reassured him. "I'm just glad you made it in time for the trip."
As Anton nodded, his eyes fluttered shut, seeking solace in the moment and in your comforting presence. You couldn't help but smile softly at his gesture. Just as you were about to close your own eyes and settle into a moment of tranquility, the sound of the bus door opening drew your attention.
Turning your gaze towards the front, you watched as Copia stepped onto the bus, his presence commanding attention as he paused in the aisle, surveying the rows of seats.
As Copia moved down the aisle, his lips moved in silent calculation, his finger tracing a path as he counted each dancer in turn. Intrigued, you tilted your head, observing his movements with keen interest. He continued his silent count until his gaze landed on you, and a small smile graced his lips before he resumed his tally.
Caught off guard by Copia's smile, you straightened in your seat, a flicker of excitement coursing through you at the brief exchange. In your sudden movement, your shoulder inadvertently bumped into Anton's head, causing him to lift his head from your shoulder with a puzzled expression, his brows furrowing in confusion. But before he could say anything, Copia spoke, diverting the attention back to him.
"Attenzione, tutti, per favore," Copia's voice cut through the bus, commanding the dancers' focus. "I've counted, and everyone is accounted for. We're ready to begin our trip." He gestured towards the empty seats at the front of the bus. "I'll be seated here. If anyone needs anything during the trip, don't hesitate to come find me."
As Copia took his seat at the front of the bus, the engine roared to life, the sound signaling the beginning of your trip. You settled back into your seat, glancing over at Anton. You couldn't help but smile as he once again rested his head on your shoulder, clearly ready to doze off for the journey ahead.
As the bus trip unfolded, the landscape outside the window transitioned from sprawling fields to dense forests, the vibrant hues of green gradually giving way to the warm tones of dusk. Sunset painted the sky, casting a soft glow. Seeking to distract yourself, you reached for your cellphone, scrolling through social media feeds and messages. Glancing over at Anton, you smiled softly as he slept soundly, his head resting comfortably on your shoulder.
Throughout the bus, the other dancers were engaged in various activities. Some chatted animatedly with each other, while others dozed off or immersed themselves in their own cellphones.
With he hours passing and night descending upon the landscape, the interior of the bus grew darker. Most of the dancers had succumbed to sleep, their soft snores filling the air. However, you found it impossible to find a comfortable position, the cramped quarters leaving you restless and unable to rest.
Glancing around the dimly lit bus, you noticed Anton had shifted in his seat, his head now resting against the window for support. With a sigh, you reluctantly pocketed your phone, hoping to find some respite in sleep.
Just as you were about to close your eyes, a faint light caught your attention from the front of the bus, where Copia was seated. Intrigued, you hesitated for a moment before making a split-second decision. With determination, you rose from your seat and made your way to the front of the bus, stopping beside Copia's seat with a racing heart.
"You can't sleep either, Mr. Copia?" you inquired, the words escaping your lips before you could second-guess yourself. Standing beside him, you couldn't help but feel a rush of nervous energy, unsure of what compelled you to approach him in the first place.
Copia turned to you, his gaze welcoming despite the late hour. "No, I suppose not," he replied with a small smile. "But, I must confess I'm still awake in case someone needs something. What about you, Giulietta?"
"It's just... I can't seem to get comfortable," you admitted, glancing out of the window briefly. "And with the trip ahead, I was hoping to get some rest."
"I understand completely," he replied, his voice gentle. "Traveling buses can be uncomfortable. But tell me, do you need something? Is everything alright?"
You hesitated, unsure of how to explain your sudden impulse to approach him. "Yes, yes," you nodded quickly. "Everything is alright, I just..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to articulate your thoughts.
Copia watched you intently, his expression curious. "You just...?" he prompted gently.
You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I just saw the light and I came to check, I guess," you admitted finally, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
"Oh!" he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up with understanding. "I see! Well, I'm just watching a movie, more like reading the subtitles. But my plan was to sleep after I finish it."
"Got it..." You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Well, in that case, I'll be back to my seat, sorry for bothering you, Mr. Copia, hope you enjoy your movie."
But before you could turn away, Copia reached out, his hand hovering in the air for a moment before he spoke. "No, wait, Giulietta! Would you... like to join me? We can watch it together."
You hesitated for a moment, surprised by his invitation, but ultimately, you nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. "Sure, that sounds nice," you replied softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest.
As you moved to take the seat next to him, Copia reached over and lifted the arm supporter between the seats, allowing you to sit closer to him. With a grateful nod, you settled into the seat, feeling a strange but comforting warmth emanating from his presence.
Copia adjusted his position slightly, holding his phone between the two of you as he resumed watching the movie. You glanced at the screen, curious, and couldn't help but smile when you saw the familiar title. "The Shining?" you asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. "That's a classic."
Copia chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "SĂŹ, it is," he replied, his tone fond. "I've watched it countless times, but I never get tired of it."
You couldn't help but smile as you watched Copia engrossed in the movie. Glancing at the screen of his phone, you found yourself drawn into the movie as well. Sitting beside him, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a rare moment of calm amidst the bustle of the trip.
"Giulietta," his voice, barely above a whisper, reached your ears, sending a shiver down your spine. "Would you like some snacks?" His question made you chuckle softly.
"A snack sounds perfect," you whispered back, meeting his gaze with a grateful smile. "What kind of snacks do you have, Mr. Copia?"
Copia's attention shifted to a bag near his feet, smoothly retrieving it without once glancing away from the phone screen. Placing the bag on your lap, he deftly opened it, revealing an array of snacks.
"We've got some chips and chocolate," he mentioned, his focus returning to the movie as his hand sifted through the bag on your lap.
You glanced down, watching as his hand rummaged through the contents until he found a bag of chips, opening it with practiced ease. Opting for a small bag of chocolate, you closed the bag and placed it back on the floor. Copia's gaze briefly flickered to the chocolate on your lap before returning to look at you.
Copia's voice, a gentle whisper near your ear, sent a shiver down your spine. "Would you mind sharing the chocolate?" he asked softly.
"Of course not, Mr. Copia!" you responded with a soft chuckle. "Since you brought it, you don't even need to ask."
"Grazie," he chuckled in return. "Feel free to grab some chips too if you'd like."
"Thanks, Mr. Copia," you replied, opening the pack of chocolate.
"I think I've already told you to just call me Copia," he teased with a grin. "It's just the two of us here."
"Alright then, Copia," you agreed, reaching for a chip from the pack in his lap.
As the movie played on, you and Copia remained seated side by side, your bodies gradually inching closer with each passing minute. At first, it was just a slight brush of knees or a gentle bump of legs, but soon, the space between you seemed to disappear entirely.
Unsure of what to do with your hands in such close proximity, you opted to place them on your thighs, occasionally crossing them as you shifted on the seat. Meanwhile, Copia's focus remained on the movie, his attention fully absorbed by the screen.
Every now and then, one of you would reach for the bag of snacks on your lap, prompting a subtle movement that brought you even closer together. Sometimes, Copia's concentration on the film would lead his hand astray, inadvertently brushing against your thigh instead of the bag of chocolate, eliciting a quick apology from him.
Despite the moments of awkwardness, there was a sense of comfort in your closeness. As the movie progressed, your heads would occasionally brush against each other. And through it all, you both continued to share the snacks, enjoying each other's company in the dimly lit bus.
"I..." you began, your voice faltering as you met Copia's gaze.
"...hope you're..." Copia interjected, his words mirroring your own uncertainty.
You chuckled and nodded towards him, indicating for him to continue. "Your turn," you said with a gentle smile.
"I was just checking if you're enjoying the movie," he replied, turning to face you.
"Yes, definitely," you affirmed with a nod. "I'm really enjoying it."
Copia returned your smile before turning his attention back to the movie. "Good to hear," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You glanced at him, noticing the faint glow of the screen reflecting off his features. "I appreciate you sharing it with me," you said, a softness in your tone.
"Nessun problema," he replied, his gaze meeting yours once again. "I must admit, it's quite nice to have some company during the trip."
You nodded in agreement. "Yeah," you murmured, turning your attention back to the movie.
"Want to see something interesting?" Copia's voice held a hint of excitement, his lips twitching with anticipation.
Curiosity piqued, you leaned in slightly, meeting his gaze. "What?"
"Put your hand on my face," he instructed, leaning closer to you. "Cover my eyes with your hand."
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Why would I do that?"
"Trust me," he urged, his tone gentle yet persuasive. "Just cover my eyes."
"What do you want to show me?" you inquired, tilting your head slightly.
"Just trust me, sĂŹ?" he insisted softly, his gaze unwavering.
With a hint of hesitation, you extended your hand, your fingertips brushing against his cheek gently. "Okay," you said, covering his eyes with your hand as he requested.
"Grazie," he murmured gratefully. "Now, keep your eyes on the screen, sĂŹ?"
"Yes, sure," you agreed, shifting your gaze back to the movie playing on his phone.
Copia leaned in closer, his voice low but clear as he repeated the dialogue from the movie, syncing perfectly with the characters' lines. "How do you like it?" he began, his tone shifting dramatically. "How do you like it?" he repeated, his voice taking on a gravelly quality. "What are you doing down here?" he continued, his words smooth and deliberate. "I... just... want to talk with you," he said, his tone softening. "Okay, let's talk. What do you want to talk about?" His voice became more insistent. "I... I can't... really remember," he said, feigning hesitation. "You can't remember?" he repeated, with a hint of incredulity. "No, I can't..."
As you listened to Copia reciting the lines from the movie, you found yourself pleasantly surprised by his unexpected knowledge. It wasn't a grand display, but it was certainly something you hadn't anticipated from him. Your attention remained fixed on the screen, completely absorbed by him, until you felt a warmth in your hand. Turning your gaze from the screen, you found Copia holding your hand, his touch gentle as he removed it from his eyes and held it in his own.
"What did you think?" Copia asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
"That was somehow... incredibly cool," you said, still perplexed by it, your grip on his hand tightening slightly. "How do you do it?" you asked, a hint of skepticism in your tone. "Were you spying or something?"
Copia chuckled, shaking his head. "I told you, I've watched this movie quite a few times."
âWow,â you exclaimed, genuinely impressed. âThatâs probably something I wasnât expecting.â
âSo... I surprised you?â Copia inquired, a smile playing on his lips as he shifted his position to face you.
âYes! And that was so cool, Mr. Copia, I mean, Copia,â you replied, your cheeks flushing slightly as you corrected yourself, a shy smile gracing your lips.
âNow you know Iâm not just a ballet teacher,â Copia remarked.
âYes, of course. You're a cool ballet teacher,â you affirmed. "You're also a movie addict."
âEh,â he chuckled, his cheeks tinted with a faint blush. "At least now we talked about something else," he remarked, a playful glint in his eyes as he glanced at you.
You met his gaze with a sly smile playing on your lips. "Oh, so you're saying you're tired of talking about ballet?" you teased, your tone laced with playful sarcasm.
Copia chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Not tired," he replied, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But I wouldn't mind talking about other things with you."
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through you at the subtle implication. "Well, in that case, where do we start?" you asked, leaning in slightly closer to him, your eyes locking with his.
"How about we start with something simple?" Copia suggested, his voice low and smooth. "Tell me something about yourself."
You considered his proposal for a moment, a playful glint dancing in your eyes. "Hmm, let's see," you mused, tapping your chin thoughtfully. "But only if you promise to tell me something about yourself in return."
Copia's smile widened, his gaze holding yours with an undeniable warmth. "Deal," he said, intertwining your fingers together.
"Well..." you started, your voice trailing off as you were about to delve into the topic of the presentation. "The balletâ"
Before you could continue, Copia interrupted you. "I want to know more about you. I know there's more to you than just ballet. Tell me about yourself, Giulietta."
You chuckled softly, shifting in your seat. "Mr. Copia, if you want me to open up, you can't keep calling me Giulietta. That's not who I am. Otherwise, I might have to start talking about Romeo."
"Romeo?" he inquired with a playful glint in his eye. "Just Romeo? Not your Romeo?"
"He's not mine, Mr. Copia," you replied, suppressing a smile. "He's just a character."
"Mi dispiace," Copia leaned in slightly, his movements bringing him closer to you. His voice took on a hushed tone, almost a whisper, as he spoke, his words clear and directed solely at you. The sound of your name on his lips sent a shiver down your spine, but you remained composed, pressing your lips together as you met his gaze. "Now, tell me something about yourself," he urged, his gaze intense as he locked eyes with you. "Not about Giulietta."
As the movie continued to play, its dialogue fading into the background, you and Copia found yourselves engrossed in conversation. He asked about your hobbies, your life outside of ballet, and you were more than willing to share, opening up to him with an ease that surprised even yourself. Copia, in turn, shared snippets of his own life, his passions, and his aspirations. Each question and answer drawing you both closer together. The lines between you and him blurred as you spoke freely. However, he constantly would apologize for potential intrusiveness, which you tranquilized him with reassurances.
At this point movie had become nothing more than a faint glow in the background, overshadowed by the shared conversation. In that bus, it felt as though it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other's stories, and everything just faded away into the distance.
As you and Copia chatted and casually indulged in sharing chips and chocolates, your attention gradually drifted back to the screen of his cellphone. Whether it was the tranquility of the conversation, his comforting presence, or the glow of his bright screen against your tired eyes, something seemed to lull you into a state of drowsiness.
Struggling to keep your eyes open, you shifted in your seat, feeling the heaviness of sleep creeping over you. It was as if a gentle lullaby was playing, coaxing you into a peaceful slumber. Despite your efforts to stay awake, the weight of exhaustion proved too much to resist.
As your eyelids grew heavier, you found solace in the warmth of Copia's hand still pressed against yours. In that moment, with the soft hum of the movie in the background and the comforting touch of his hand, you couldn't help but wonder why you were both still holding hands.
The distant call of your name jolted you awake from your slumber. Uncertain of how long you had been asleep, you were greeted by a dull ache permeating throughout your body. The uncomfortable bus seats were ill-suited for rest, leaving you feeling sore and stiff.
As you slowly awoke, the bus was strangely silent. Blinking groggily, you glanced around, expecting to see the other dancers chatting or resting in their seats. Yet to your surprise, the bus was empty, devoid of any sign of life except for you. Confusion clouded your thoughts as you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.
"Good morning, sleepyhead. What are you doing there?" Anton's voice came from behind you, pulling you from your dazed state. As you looked up, you saw him standing behind you, his arms resting on the back of the bus seat.
"Anton..." you mumbled his name, your voice still heavy with sleep. Then, as awareness flooded back, you exclaimed, "Anton!" opening your eyes wider in surprise. "What's going on? Where..." You glanced around the bus. "Where is everyone?"
"Relax," Anton reassured you, his voice calm. "They're all outside. We've arrived at the hotel. Everyone's getting their bags and heading to their rooms."
"Fuck," you cursed under your breath as you scrambled to your feet. "We need to hurry, then!"
"Care to explain why I found you here?" Anton teased, his tone playful. "Did you become the teacher's favorite overnight?"
The last thing you remembered was the warmth of Copiaâs hand pressed against yours, a comforting action in the otherwise quiet bus. But you couldn't bring that up. Or could you?
"I..." you started, feeling a pang of embarrassment. But before you could finish, a noise from the front of the bus interrupted you. You turned to see Copia standing there, his gaze fixed on you and Anton.
"Oh," he began, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Looks like our Giulietta is already awake. Bene, bene."
"Good morning, Mr. Copia," Anton greeted before giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze and pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. "I'll grab my bag and head straight to my room. I could really use a shower and a decent place to crash." With that, Anton passed by you and Copia, exiting the bus.
Feeling a flush of embarrassment, you turned towards Copia, noticing he not only had his own bag but also yours in hand. "Good morning, Mr. Copia," you greeted him.
"Good morning," he replied, a small smile gracing his lips as he extended his arm with your bag. "Here, I got it for you."
"Thank you, Mr. Copia," you replied gratefully, taking a small step towards him to retrieve your bag.
"So, shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the bus's door.
"Yes, of course," you responded, walking past him and towards the exit.
As you both exited the bus, a comfortable silence settled between you and Copia as you made your way towards the hotel's front door. Just as you reached it, a hotel staff member opened the door, allowing you to enter. Copia gestured for you to go first, and you stepped through the doorway, glancing around the lobby.
Inside, you saw the other dancers gathered around the receptionist, engaged in conversation. Adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder, you followed Copia's lead, making your way towards the group to join in the line.
As you waited in line closer to the reception desk, a swirl of thoughts began to form in your mind. Did the other dancers notice you sleeping in Copia's seat? What did they think about it? Why hadn't Copia woken you up before leaving? And why hadn't you woken up when he left your side? Were you sleeping that heavily?
The questions nagged at you, mingling with a sense of self-consciousness and unease. You couldn't shake the feeling of embarrassment at the possibility of being seen in such state.
"Giulietta," Copia's voice pierced through your thoughts like a sudden burst of clarity, pulling you back to the present moment. Startled, you turned to face him, his eyes meeting yours with a gentle intensity. "Are you alright?"
You offered him a small nod. "Just lost in my thoughts for a moment," you admitted, offering a tentative smile.
You chuckled softly, appreciating his attempt at humor. "Not really," you replied, shaking your head. "Those seats were probably made for a nap than a proper sleep. And unfortunately, I think the only thing I dreamed of was finding a more comfortable seat."
Copia grinned. "Ah, bene. Eh... I'm glad my snoring didn't keep you up all night."
You chuckled, shaking your head at his attempt at humor. "No, I think I was too busy trying to get comfortable in those seats to notice any snoring," you replied with a grin.
Before Copia could reply you, Antonâs voice interrupted from the front of the line, calling your name. âHey! Come! Itâs almost my turn to get the keys.â
You turned towards Anton with a nod, glancing back at Copia with a smile. âLooks like I have go. Thanks for last night, Mr. Copia. See you in a bit.â
With a wave, you made your way to join Anton, leaving Copia behind. As you arrived on Anton's side he was already in front of the reception.
"I thought you were gonna ask your boyfriend to come with you," Anton joked, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
"What!? My what?" you exclaimed, caught off guard by his teasing. "Who?"
"Mr. Coâ" Anton began, but before he could finish his sentence, you playfully punched his arm with a light force. "Hey! I need those arms to dance, you know?" he protested, rubbing his arm with a mock expression of pain.
"I don't care, now take your keys and shush!" you retorted.
Anton pouted in your direction, turning his face towards the receptionist as he continued to rub his arm. You couldn't help but smirk, knowing he was just pretending to be hurt, which only made you want to give him another playful punch.
As you both waited for the check-in process to be completed, you subtly tried to sneak a glance behind you, masking your intention with feigned nonchalance. You played with your hair, pretending to look around the lobby, until you finally managed to catch a glimpse of Copia standing in line. But as soon as you saw him, you quickly looked away, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach.
Anton's teasing words echoed in your mind, and you couldn't help but wonder what he meant by "your boyfriend." Surely, he was just being his usual playful self, not actually suggesting that you and Copia were dating. It was just another day of Anton's harmless teasing, nothing more.
Once you and Anton had collected the keys, you walked away from the reception, avoiding any temptation to glance behind you, especially after Anton's teasing comment. Checking the room number on your key, you made your way towards the elevator with Anton by your side. Thankfully, the elevator was already waiting on the first floor, so you both stepped inside and pressed the button for your floor.
As the doors closed, you leaned against the wall of the elevator, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Anton mirrored your stance, leaning against the opposite wall and fixing you with a mocking expression, his head tilted slightly to the side.
"What?" you inquired.
"When I woke up," he began. "I didn't see you next to me, which I found weird because where else could you go if we were inside a bus?" He chuckled softly before continuing. "Then I thought maybe you were using the bathroom or something, but the doors weren't locked. So, I decided to ask Mr. Copia." Anton pushed himself off the wall. "To my surprise, there you were, sleeping on his shoulder with his head really close to yours. And I'm quite sure I saw you both holding hands."
As Antonâs words sank in, a wave of embarrassment washed over you, coloring your cheeks crimson. You shifted uncomfortably, suddenly hyper-aware of your proximity to Anton in the confined space of the elevator.
"Oh, uhâŠ" you stammered, struggling to find the right words to explain the situation. "It wasnât what it looked like. I must have just drifted off, andâŠ" You trailed off, realizing that no explanation could erase the awkwardness of the situation. "I-I must have fallen asleep without realizing it."
Anton grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Itâs okay," he said teasingly, "itâs not every day you get to snuggle up to a ballet teacher, huh?â he joked, nudging you playfully.
You forced a weak smile, trying to play off the embarrassment. "Yeah, I guess so," you replied, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible. "Anyway, letâs focus on getting into our rooms, shall we?"
You offered Anton a weak smile, your cheeks still flushed with embarrassment as you silently prayed for the elevator doors to open and bring an end to the conversation. As if answering your plea, the doors opened immediately. Breathing a sigh of relief, you stepped out of the elevator, grateful to put some distance between yourself and the awkward encounter. Once in the hallway, you realized you were alone. Glancing back at the elevator, you saw Anton still inside, his voice carrying over to you.
"My room is on a different floor," he called out. "We'll meet up soon, okay?"
"Sure, sounds good," you replied, waving to him as the elevator doors began to close. Watching as the doors shut, you took a deep breath, feeling a sense of relief wash over you as you prepared to head to your own room.
Glancing at the key once more, you double-checked the number of your room before consulting the hallway directions. With a clear idea of where to go, you set off down the corridor until you reached the door of your assigned room. Inserting the key into the lock, you turned it and pushed the door open, stepping inside.
Taking a quick survey of the room, you noted that while it wasn't overly spacious, it appeared cozy and inviting. Making your way over to the bed, your body yearned for the comfort of a soft surface after the long journey. With a relieved sigh, you tossed your luggage onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed, feeling the tension in your muscles start to melt away.
Feeling a slight vibration in your pocket, you paused and reached for your phone. With a grunt of effort, you took it from your pocket and glanced at the screen, noting a new message from Anton. Not surprised, you tapped on the notification to read the message.
I've almost forgotten to tell you. But we are supposed to meet, before lunch, at the hotel lobby.
Furrowing your brows in confusion, you racked your brain trying to recall when this plan had been discussed, but came up empty-handed. Nonetheless, you nodded to yourself, determined to remember the arrangement. Before you could type out a question or response, another message popped up on your screen.
I know what you're gonna ask me. Mr. Copia said it when we arrived here and you were still asleep at his seat. The meeting is at midday.
Reading Anton's explanation, you felt a pang of embarrassment as you recalled the moment he mentioned. "Right..." you muttered to yourself, feeling a bit sheepish. You set your phone aside and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was still mid-morning, and you had some time before lunch. With a sigh, you realized how sore your body felt from the uncomfortable bus seats, and a wave of exhaustion washed over you.
Deciding to take advantage of the downtime, you opted to stay in bed a while longer, allowing yourself to relax. You sank into the plush pillows, feeling the tension slowly ebb away as you closed your eyes. Then, memories of the bus trip flooded your mind. The way Copia had asked you to stay with him, the conversations, the shared snacks, the warmth of his hand enveloping yoursâevery detail played out vividly in your thoughts. You could almost feel the weight of his hand against yours, the gentle pressure as your fingers intertwined, sending a flush of warmth to your cheeks.
Opening your eyes, you gazed down at your hand, a deep sigh escaping your lips. Whatever was happening between you and Copia, whatever subtle connection was forming, it was undeniably affecting you.
As moments stretched into minutes, you found yourself lost in contemplation, the passing of time marked only by the soft ticking of the bedside clock. Eventually, you reached for your phone, unlocking the screen, you glanced at the time and realized that the morning had slipped away, giving way to midday. With a small sigh, you set the cellphone aside and pushed yourself up from the bed, feeling the need to shake off the lingering drowsiness.
Deciding that a refreshing shower would help, you made your way to the bathroom. The sound of running water filled the air as you adjusted the temperature to your liking. Stepping inside, you let the warm water cascade over you, soothing your muscles. However, the unexpected previous thoughts of Copia crept back into your mind, catching you off guard in the midst of your shower. Despite your best efforts to focus on the bath, your thoughts wandered to him, and you found yourself biting your lower lip in contemplation.
Were you two really sleeping that close to each other? Had his hand really held yours since you fell asleep next to him without him feeling bothered by it? The proximity in that confined space felt incredibly intimate, almost like a secret shared between you two. And that, made you giggle.
As you shook your head to dispel the lingering thoughts of Copia, you turned off the shower and stepped out, enveloping yourself in a plush towel. With brisk movements, you dried yourself off before wrapping the towel securely around your body.
Making your way back to your room, you retrieved your bag and unzipped it to select a suitable outfit for the afternoon. Once you had chosen, you quickly slipped into the clothes. With your attire sorted, you grabbed your phone and the room key, tucking them securely into your pocket. Making your way to the door, you grabbed your bag, before stepping out into the hallway.
Locking the door behind you, you made your way to the elevator and pressed the button to call it. When the elevator arrived, the doors slid open, revealing several of your colleagues already inside. With a smile and a wave, you greeted them warmly as you stepped into the confined space. Positioning yourself in one of the corners, you tried to focus on the floor numbers ticking by, but a nagging sense of unease gnawed at you.
Despite your attempts to appear nonchalant, you couldn't shake the feeling of scrutiny from some of the others. It was as if their glances held a silent commentary, leaving you to wonder if they were aware of the scene from earlier that morning.
As the elevator descended towards the lobby, you felt a growing sense of anticipation, willing it to arrive faster than ever before. When the doors finally slid open, your fellow dancers filed out, and you followed suit, stepping into the bustling lobby.
Surveying the scene, you noticed several dancers already seated on sofas and armchairs, engaged in conversation. Anton was among them, his animated gestures and laughter drawing your attention, but you hesitated to approach. Instead, you chose to linger near a pillar, arms crossed as you observed the gathering.
"Why are you hiding over here?" Copia inquired, his voice a low murmur that sent a shiver down your spine. "Is everything alright?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine concern.
Startled, you turned to find Copia standing there. Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, you stumbled over your words for a moment before composing yourself. "Yeah, I, uh, I wasn't hiding," you stammered, a flush rising to your cheeks. "I was just... observing. And yes, everything's fine," you replied, offering a hesitant smile.
Copia arched an eyebrow. "Observing, sĂŹ?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Well, in that case, care to join us?"
"Sure," you replied, mustering a small smile. "I'd be happy to." With that, you fell into step beside Copia as he led you towards the others.
As you and Copia approached the group of dancers, you deliberately created a space between yourselves. Making a beeline for Anton, you reached out and placed a hand on his arm, causing him to turn towards you with a warm smile.
"Hello, everyone," Copia began, his tone commanding yet inviting. "As you all know, tomorrow is the big dayâthe premiere you all been working towards. But before that, we have some final preparations to make. So, today we will head to the theater where the premiere will be held for a final rehearsal," he continued, his gaze sweeping over the group. "I want us to go over everything one last time, to ensure that we're all fully prepared for tomorrow's performance. And after the rehearsal," he added, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "I'd like to invite all of you to join me for a dinnerâa chance to relax and unwind before the big day. Consider it a celebration of all the hard work you all put in."
"Mr. Copia," Anton's voice cut through the air, drawing Copia's attention. "Sorry, but, where is this dinner going to happen?" he inquired.
Copia nodded in acknowledgment, a reassuring smile on his face. "Ah, sĂŹ, sĂŹ," he replied. "The dinner will be held right here at the hotel restaurant, so you all don't have to worry about it."
"Ah, okay, thank you," Anton said.
"Bene," Copia continued, addressing the group at large. "If no one else has any questions..." His voice trailed off as he scanned the faces before him. "You're all dismissed to enjoy your lunch now. We will reconvene after, in front of the hotel, and head to the theater together. Per favore, enjoy your meal, and buon appetito."
With a final nod, Copia signaled the end of the meeting, and the group began to disperse, chatting excitedly as they made their way towards the hotel restaurant and you and Anton followed them. Upon entering, you scanned the room and spotted a familiar face among the sea of tables. However, instead of heading towards Copia, you found yourself guided to a table where some of the other dancers had already gathered.
Taking a seat, you picked up the menu and looked at the plates, though your mind was elsewhere. The conversation around you flowed freely, but you couldn't shake the urge to glance back at Copia, who sat alone in the corner.
"Good afternoon," a voice interrupted your thoughts. "May I take your orders?" You looked towards the source of the voice and saw a waiter standing nearby, poised to jot down everyone's requests.
As everyone began to order their meals,you found yourself hesitating, torn between joining Copia and staying with your group. The tension built within you, manifesting as nervous energy that made it difficult to focus on anything else.
"And for you, ma'am?" the waiter inquired, turning his attention to you.
"Oh... um..." caught off guard, you stammered slightly. "Yes, sorry, uh... I'll have this one," you said, pointing to a dish on the menu.
After ordering your meal, the wait for it seemed interminable, each passing moment amplifying your internal struggle. Despite the lively discussion at the table, your attention remained fixated on Copia, who sat in solitary silence. Suddenly, your gazes met and a jolt of electricity seemed to pass between you. Caught off guard, you both looked away, only to meet each other's eyes once more. Copia's shy smile and small wave spurred you into action. Hastily rising from your seat, the chair scraped loudly against the floor, drawing the attention of everyone, including Copia, whose widened eyes mirrored your own surprise.
Taking a deep breath, you redirected your attention to the table, clearing your throat before speaking up. "Excuse me, everyone," you began, your voice slightly shaky. "I just remembered that I need to do something urgent. Please go ahead and eat without me. You can tell the waiter to deliver my food to room 404. I'll catch up with you later."
Feeling mortified and flustered, you left the restaurant area, practically fleeing back to the elevators. Your heart raced as you jabbed repeatedly at the button, urging the elevator to arrive faster. When it finally did, you stepped inside and pressed the button for your floor multiple times, almost frantically. As the doors closed, you sank against the wall of the elevator, burying your face in your hands, consumed by embarrassment.
The elevator ride felt interminable, each passing floor adding to your discomfort. Finally, the elevator chimed, indicating your floor. Hastily, you exited and made your way to your room, your cheeks still burning with embarrassment. But as you reached for your room key, panic struck. It wasn't there.
Frantically, you checked your pockets and searched your bag, but the key was nowhere to be found. It dawned on you that you might have left it on the table in the restaurant or dropped it on your way to the elevator. Suppressing the urge to scream in frustration, you pressed your lips together tightly, dreading the thought of having to return to the restaurant area. With a heavy heart and a sense of dread weighing down your steps, you retraced your path back to the elevator. Each step felt like a burden as you approached the elevator. You couldn't help but scan the floor, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of your lost key. But it wasn't there.
Pressing the button for the elevator, you lifted your head and closed your eyes, taking a moment to collect yourself. Inside, you cursed yourself for your clumsiness and inability to control your impulses. The elevator's chime interrupted your thoughts, signaling its arrival. You let out a heavy sigh and turned towards the elevator doors, preparing to step inside. But just as you moved forward, the doors slid open, and to your surprise, Copia emerged from the corner, halting in front of you. Both of you were taken aback by the unexpected encounter.
"Mr. Copia!" you exclaimed, startled by his sudden appearance. "Please," you gave him a small smile and instinctively took a step back, silently signaling for him to go ahead.
Stepping out of the elevator, Copia graciously thanked you as he passed by your side. And just as you were about to enter the elevator, Copia cleared his throat, drawing your attention.
"Ta-da!" he exclaimed, extending your key towards you. "I think you dropped it as you left."
Surprised, you accepted the key from him. "Oh! Thank you so much, Mr. Copia."
"You donât have to thank me," he replied, looking a little embarrassed.
"Where did you find it?" you asked, glancing at your key in your hand before returning your gaze to Copia.
"It was on the floor," he replied simply, meeting your eyes with a faint smile.
You raised an eyebrow at Copia's explanation. "On the floor?" you repeated, puzzled. "And how did you..."
Copia's sudden interruption caught you off guard. "Ah!" he interjected, his hand moving to his chin as if in thought. "That's... Uh... As you exited the restaurant, I... I thought something was wrong, so I was going to come to look after you, and then Mr. Anton stopped me saying you dropped your key and that I should bring it for you because he was really hungry and didn't want to do it by himself."
You blinked, surprised by his admission. "You came after me?" you repeated, feeling confused.
Copia nodded, a slight flush coloring his cheeks. "SÏ, well, I saw you leave in such a hurry and⊠I just wanted to make sure everything was alright."
His sincerity caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. He came after you when you left because he got worried about your sudden departure from the restaurant. However, this was quite embarrassing due to how you acted there. Nervousness started to bubble inside of you, and you bit your lower lip as you tried to think of something to say, but you had nothing, and there was a long strange silence starting to grow between you two.
"Well," you began, gesturing towards your room, "I should..."
Copia nodded understandingly. "Eh... SĂŹ, sĂŹ."
You offered a small smile, but it quickly faltered as you averted your gaze, feeling a rush of discomfort. Hastily, you took brisk steps towards your room, avoiding any further interaction. As you reached your door, you fumbled with the keys to unlock it. However, before you could step inside, you heard Copia calling your name.
Turning to face him, you forced another smile. "Yes?"
Copia tilted his head, his concern evident in his expression. "Are you okay?"
"Absolutely!" you replied, trying to sound cheery. "Thank you for the key again!"
With a quick glance at Copia, you hurried into your room, the door closing with a soft click behind you. Leaning back against the door, you released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding, the tension slowly ebbing away. Taking a deep breath, you placed a hand over your chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart beneath your palm. As you tried to calm yourself, a series of knocks on the door startled you, causing you to nearly jump in surprise.
You hurried to the door, your curiosity piqued by the unexpected interruption. Opening it, you were greeted not by Copia, but by a hotel staff member carrying a tray of food.
"Good afternoon, ma'am. I have your lunch," the staff member said with a polite smile, offering you the tray.
"Ah, thank you," you replied, accepting the tray and glancing briefly into the hallway, hoping to catch a glimpse of Copia. Seeing no sign of him, you turned back to the staff member. "Thank you very much for bringing it up."
As you began to close the door, the staff member spoke up. "Wait, ma'am," he said, causing you to pause. "One of the guests in the hallway asked me to inform you that the rehearsal will be in two hours."
You nodded in understanding, grateful for the information. "Thank you for letting me know," you said sincerely, before closing the door behind you and returning to your room.
Once inside your room, you set the tray of food on the small table by the window, feeling a pang of disappointment that it wasn't Copia at the door again. You couldn't understand why his absence left you feeling unsettled. Shrugging off the feeling, you focused on the food. You quickly finished your lunch, pushing aside any thoughts about him. As you finished, you left the tray at the table and went to the other corner of the room to change into your ballet attire and slipped into baggy clothes to cover it.
With a final adjustment to your outfit, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. You grabbed your bag and keys before leaving the room, closing the door behind you with a click. Navigating through the hallway, you made your way to the elevator, your mind racing with anticipation for the rehearsal. As the elevator descended, you got inside, pressing the button of the lobby.
When the doors opened to the lobby, you spotted the other dancers and Copia standing near the entrance of the hotel. You walked over to join them.
Standing a little apart from the group, you couldn't shake off the lingering awkwardness from the incident at the restaurant and the unexpected encounter with Copia at the elevator. Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when Copia's gaze fell upon you, his footsteps starting to draw nearer.
But before he could reach you, Anton stepped in front of you, blocking Copia's view. Startled, you looked up at Anton, his presence breaking your reverie.
"Hey, what happened at lunch?" Anton asked, his voice breaking through your thoughts.
"I, I..." you stammered, caught off guard by his sudden question. "Nothing much, just... had a thing to do," you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
Anton raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your brief explanation. But before he could press further, Copia's voice interrupted from behind him.
"Ciao Romeo," Copia started, "Giulietta," he said with a warm smile. "Is everything fine?" he inquired.
You glanced over Anton's shoulder at Copia, feeling a flutter of nerves at the sight of him. "Oh, yes, everything's fine," you replied quickly, forcing a smile.
"Alright," Copia acknowledged with a nod. "We'll be departing shortly, sĂŹ?"
You and Anton both nodded in agreement. Copia's lingering gaze prompted a moment of anticipation, but he eventually turned away, heading back to his previous spot. With a heavy sigh, you covered your face with your hands.
"What's going on?" Anton inquired, noting your discomfort.
You ran a hand through your hair, trying to shake off the tension that had built up inside you. Anton glanced at you with a concerned expression, but you quickly composed yourself, plastering a smile back on your face.
"Nothing," you replied, attempting to brush it off.
"You know I can tell when something's up," he insisted, a hint of concern in his voice.
"I know, but..." You hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject of Copia. âLetâs go join the others,â you said to Anton, gesturing towards the rest of the group.
Anton nodded in agreement, and together you made your way over to where the rest of the dancers were gathered near the entrance of the hotel.
Copia looked around, his eyes resting on each of the dancers as he silently counted. Satisfied, he gave a single nod, signaling for everyone to follow him to the main door of the hotel. The group moved in unison, making their way behind him to the entrance.
As you exited the hotel, you all fell into step behind Copia, who led the way down the street. Anton walked by your side, draping his arm around your neck in a gesture that felt like a protective hug. His presence was comforting, easing the internal agitation that had been building up. The walk was short, just a block from the hotel, and soon you found yourselves standing in front of the grand theatre where tomorrow's premiere would take place.
Copia was the first to enter, holding the door open for everyone. The grandeur of the theatre struck you as you stepped inside, the vast space filled with anticipation. Once everyone was inside, Copia let the door close behind him and walked to the front of the group, ready to speak.
"Tomorrow is the big day, and it will all happen here," Copia began, his voice echoing slightly in the grand foyer. "I mean... Eh... not exactly here... If you follow me," he continued, turning and walking purposefully towards the main entrance of the theater. The group followed suit.
He stopped in front of two large doors and, with a dramatic push, revealed the majestic theater beyond. The vast stage loomed ahead, illuminated by soft, ambient lighting.
"Now here," he said, stepping aside to let everyone pass through the doors, "is where you all will become stars."
As everyone walked inside, the grandeur of the theater seemed to pull them forward. Even Anton, who had been by your side the entire time, was drawn in by the allure of the stage, his arm slipping from around your neck as he moved ahead.
You, however, found yourself rooted to the spot just outside the door. The sheer scale of the theater and the weight of tomorrow's performance suddenly hit you, causing a wave of nervousness and anxiety to wash over you. Your heart began to race, and you felt a knot forming in your stomach.
You watched as your fellow dancers excitedly moved further into the theater. Anton was already mingling with the others, seemingly unaware that you had stopped. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the anxiety only seemed to grow stronger.
And that, made you feel like an outsider looking in. The pressure of the upcoming premiere, the lingering embarrassment from earlier, and the intense interactions with Copia all swirled together, making it hard to focus.
Without you noticing, Copia, made his way back toward you with a concerned expression. He approached quietly, his voice soft and caring. "Giulietta, is everything alright?"
You forced a small smile and nodded quickly. "Yes, Mr. Copia. I'm fine."
He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Is it because of tomorrow's performance?"
You hesitated, looking down at your feet. "Maybe a little. It's just...a lot to take in."
Copia nodded understandingly and leaned in slightly, his voice gentle. "I understand. You know, I remember the first time I was the main dancer. I could barely breathe. My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest. I felt like the weight of the world was on my shoulders. The pressure, the expectations... it was overwhelming."
You looked up at him. "Really? You were nervous?"
"Terrified," he admitted with a soft chuckle. "But when the curtains opened on that first night, something changed. There I was, alone on the stage. And in that moment, I realized it was my time to shine. The nerves faded, and I just danced. It was like everything else disappeared, and it was just me and the performance."
You took a deep breath. "That sounds incredible."
"It was," Copia said, his eyes warm with recollection. "And you will have that moment too. Trust yourself. When those curtains open, you'll know what to do."
"Thank you, Mr. Copia."
He nodded, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I know you will feel the same tomorrow. Youâve worked hard for this, and you deserve to be up there.â
Copia stepped inside the theater once again and turned in your direction, extending a hand. You looked at his hand and slowly reached for it, feeling his fingers gently surround yours. The touch caused your eyes to drop to where your hands met. He took a small step back, gently bringing you inside the theater. Your gaze turned to his, and your eyes locked onto his, making you feel a sense of reassurance. Eagerly, you obeyed, stepping inside the theater with him.
Copia gave you a warm, small smile, his gaze softened as he guided you further inside, eventually stopping in front of him. Slowly, he lowered your hands together, tangling your fingers. You took a deep breath as you felt his thumb gently soothing the back of your hand.
"You're going to be amazing," he whispered and let go of your hand, his touch lingering for a moment before he turned to the other dancers. His voice reverberated through the theater walls as he called out. "Okie dokie, everyone, gather on the stage! Letâs start with a quick warm-up before we run through the choreography. Go to change and we will meet here at the main stage.â
You followed the other dancers to the back of the stage, where the dressing rooms were located. Once there, you slipped off your outer clothes and tied the delicate ribbons of your slippers with practiced precision.
Once ready, you all returned to the stage. Copia sat in the front row. The sight of him there made your heart race. Tomorrow, he would likely be in the same place, watching your every step. And only the thought of it sent a shiver of anticipation through you, and a blush crept up your cheeks. For some reason, you felt like you were going to dance for him.
Copia began giving instructions, outlining the order of practice. "Alright, as I said before, let's start with a warm-up," he commanded.
You and the other dancers moved through the familiar routines, stretching and preparing your bodies for the practice ahead. It felt like any other day, a series of habitual movements to loosen your limbs and ready yourselves. Copia offered occasional corrections, adjusting postures and refining techniques, ensuring everyone was aligned and prepared.
Copia clapped his hands. "Molto bene! Let's begin the rehearsal. Iâll count the tempo and give corrections as needed. Giulietta and Romeo, let's start with you both."
Copia took his seat in the front row again, glancing back at the booth atop the theater and gesturing with his hand. This gave you and Anton enough time to position yourselves in the middle of the stage while the others stepped aside to give you space. The music began, and you danced with Anton, feeling the rhythm resonate through your bones. Copia's voice pierced the air, occasionally interrupting to offer guidance or demonstrate a step. Anton took his corrections in stride, but each one made you feel like you werenât doing enough.
You moved through the steps, but your heart wasnât in it. Copia's corrections felt like constant reminders of your shortcomings, even though you knew he was only trying to help. Disappointment began to set in as you realized you were letting your nervousness take over. You couldnât fully focus on the dancing; you were going through the motions, but your heart wasnât in it. Each time you heard Copiaâs voice asking you to stop, you felt like a total failure. You were not only letting yourself down but also him. The last thing you wanted was for Copia to see you like this, struggling and uncertain.
At one point, you stepped aside, letting the other dancers take the stage. You watched them, your emotions swirling. Until finally, the rehearsal came to an end.
Copia stood up, a proud smile on his face. "You all did an amazing job today. Iâm sure that tomorrow will be a great success. Iâm looking forward to seeing it all come together, and Iâll be here to watch you all. Youâre dismissed for the day, and I'll see you all soon at the dinner."
Everyone walked back to the backstage area, and you followed, trying to blend in. Despite Copia's words of encouragement, you were still struggling with your performance during rehearsal. Maybe it was just in your head, but you felt like the others were judging you with their looks and hushed comments.
Once backstage, you went to grab your bag, eager to leave as quickly as possible. The thought of facing everyone at dinner felt unbearable. Going back would mean you'd have to attend the dinner, but skipping it felt like youâd be letting Copia down. However, you'd rather disappoint him because you were striving for perfection than disappoint him by staying in the bedroom and avoiding dinner.
You gathered your belongings, your mind racing with conflicting thoughts. The theater was quiet now, the only sound your breath and the soft echo of your steps. So, instead of heading back to the hotel, you lingered in the theater, The empty stage called to you, a silent invitation to practice more. You needed to push yourself, to prove that you could be perfect.
Determined, you began to dance, losing yourself in the familiar patterns, trying to perfect each step. You didn't need music, you didn't need anyone telling you what to do; you just knew how to move on the stage. The rest of the world could wait because you were solely focused on moving your feet in perfect tempo. Nothing mattered right now except reaching perfection and making the nervousness vanish.
As you danced, the worries and doubts began to fade, each movement bringing you closer to the dancer you knew you could be. For a moment, you felt free, your body flowing effortlessly. But then, every time you thought about Copia's eyes on you, you halted, your confidence wavering. The image of his gaze, so intense and critical, made you pause.
You took a deep breath, shook off the hesitation, and resumed dancing, determined to push through the self-doubt. If you were training yourself to achieve perfection, then Copia's eyes couldn't be the ones to make you falter. Those eyes should be the ones to witness the beauty and grace you could bring to the stage.
You pushed harder, channeling your anxiety into your movements, each step more precise than the last. The thought of Copia watching you, not with judgment but with admiration, gave you the fuel that you needed. You visualized his approving gaze, his silent acknowledgment of your talent, and it gave you the strength to keep going. The stage was yours, and you would show Copia, and yourself, the dancer you truly were.
Hours passed as you practiced alone. You repeated the steps over and over, pushing through the fatigue. For sure the dinner at this hour was already over or close to the end at least, unfortunately you lost an opportunity to share a meal with Copia but you also knew he'd understand.
Before you went back to the hotel, there was the desire to practice just a little bit more before your feet became sore. You moved to the corner of the stage, not quite hidden but enough to create a sense of mystery. Then you began.
The steps you were about to take belonged to the bedroom scene with Romeo, but you could afford to do at least some of them by yourself. Your movements were slow and deliberate, full of the longing and passion, you could almost hear the music in your mind, guiding your steps. You imagined Romeoâs presence, but it wasn't who it should be.
You poured your heart into each step, the fatigue faded as you lost yourself in the dance, the movements coming more naturally, more fluidly. You werenât just practicing anymore; you were embodying Julietâs love and sorrow.
You danced as if Copia was there, watching, seeing not just the technique but the passion you brought to your performance. The desire to impress him, to show him your dedication, drove you forward. Especially because among the desire of seeing him there, there was also the one to be dancing with him. And then, just as you were about to twirl, you startled, feeling a light touch on your waist. Glancing back, you found Copia behind you.
"Keep dancing..." he whispered, his voice carrying an undertone of command.
Copia enveloped you in his arms, and you instinctively wrapped yours around his neck, feeling the warmth of his embrace. He let you go for a moment, still keeping an arm around your waist as he spun you around with surprising grace. Copia's strength guided you into a pose, his hold firm yet gentle. He pulled you closer again, your back against his chest, his hands sliding from your waist down to your legs in a seamless motion.
You stepped away, but he grasped your hand, spinning you once more until you were held close again. Your head fell onto his shoulder, and for a brief, serene moment, you closed your eyes, inhaling the scent of his cologne deeply.
The moment was fleeting as he moved with you, continuing the dance. Every time he held you close, you felt a rapid heartbeat in your chest, but you were starting to wonder if it was only yours.
"Your absence was felt," he remarked, his words laden with implications.
"Was it?" you asked softly. "Well, I believed practice was necessary, considering tomorrow," you countered, your voice just as gentle.
"You've rehearsed enough earlier," he suggested.
"I have," you affirmed. "But perfection is essential for tomorrow."
"Perfection?" he questioned softly. "You're already flawless."
"Your flattery won't distract me," you countered, a hint of tension in your voice.
He kept guiding you, his movements fluid and confident. With a graceful lift, he pulled you off the floor, twirling you effortlessly. His strong hands were everywhere they needed to be, each touch precise and intentional, as required by the steps of the dance. Every time his hand rested on your thigh or waist, your breath quickened, the intensity of his touch sending shivers through you.
"Perfection is subjective, Giulietta," he retorted, his gaze intense as it lingered on you. âAlso, it's not flattery when itâs the truth."
"Maybe," you conceded, feeling the heat of his stare. "But for tomorrow, there can be no room for error."
"And there won't be," he assured, his tone unwavering.
Copia's arms enveloped you, pulling you closer until your breaths mingled and your eyes locked in an intense exchange. As you began to lose your sense of balance under his touch, Copia drew you in even closer, positioning one of his legs between yours. Instinctively, your hands traced the lines of his shoulders, feeling the immediate response in his body to your touch. With his gaze locked on yours, you hesitated, the weight of the moment hanging in the air between you, uncertain of what step to take next.
"I don't want to disappoint anyone," you whispered, slightly breathless.
"You won't disappoint anyone," he murmured, pulling you even closer.
"But what if I disappoint... all the other dancers? The audience?" You took a deep breath before adding, "And you."
"You've been pushing yourself too hard. Today was supposed to be about relaxation, a break from rehearsals. But you didn't join us for dinner," he explained with a sigh.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Copia," you sighed. "I just felt the need to practice. My mind is completely focused on tomorrow's performance and..."
"Turn around," he interrupted, his tone firm yet gentle, withdrawing his arms from around you.
"Turn...? Okay?" Perplexed, you complied, turning to face away from him. "What now?" you asked.
Your eyes widened in surprise as you felt his hands slide onto your shoulders, gently applying pressure. Your whole body tense. His hands moved with practiced precision, kneading the tension from your muscles. As his touch went from your shoulders to your spine, you couldn't help but shiver slightly, every hair on your body standing on end in response to his soothing massage.
"You need to relax your body," he said in a low voice from behind you.
"I'm trying," you replied, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.
"That's not good, Giulietta," he admonished gently. "You can't be tense. You need to let go."
"Mr. Copia, I am trying," you insisted, taking a deep breath as you felt his hands return to your shoulders. A soft sound of relief escaped your lips as you began to relax under the touch of his skilled fingers.
His hands traveled again from your shoulders to your spine, this time applying pressure from the center of your back to the sides of your body, almost reaching your waist. With each movement, his grip was firm yet gentle, sending waves of relief coursing through your body. As his hands reached your waist, they tightened momentarily before returning to your spine, tracing soothing patterns.
Under his touch, you felt yourself melting. With a heavy sigh, you allowed your body to relax fully, closing your eyes to savor the sensation of his hands soothing every tense muscle.
His hands continued their journey down your spine, each press sending waves of sensation through your body. As you opened your eyes, you found yourself biting your lower lip, the intensity of his touch almost overwhelming. But it wasnât just his touch that affected you. You could feel the warmth of his breath near your neck and the tip of his nose barely brushing your skin. Your breath caught in your throat, and you gasped, feeling a barrier between you shatter.
He reached the sides of your body, holding you tightly. You were certain he had moved closer; you could feel the heat of his body against your back, even without being pressed against him. His hands started to slide to your stomach, and in a moment of impulse, you turned to face him. Your eyes met his, half-closed with tension and anticipation, the air between you thick with unspoken desire.
"You would never disappoint me..." he murmured, his face inches from yours, the warmth of his breath brushing against your lips. "Nothing you'd do, or have done, or are thinking about doingânothing could possibly disappoint me."
In a bold move, you leaned forward, closing the remaining distance between you and Copia, pressing a soft, lingering peck on his lips. Gently, you placed your hands on his shoulders, finally feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. As you gradually pulled back, a sense of uncertainty gripped you, your hands instinctively balling into fists against his shirt. The weight of what had just transpired hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, wondering if you had crossed a line. Ready to apologize, you were trying to find the right words.
Copia's hands withdrew from your body, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, confirming your fears of having crossed a line. Tremors coursed through your entire body, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, instead, you stared the floor. The weight of your mistake bore down on you, rendering you speechless as you struggled to find the right words to apologize.
Suddenly, Copiaâs hands gently cradle your face, lifting it to meet his gaze, you found yourself torn between the urge to avoid his eyes and the magnetic pull of his touch. Despite the tumult of emotions swirling within you, his tender gesture drew you in, causing you to lock eyes with him in search of an answer.
"The other dancers convinced me to have a glass of wine during dinner," he murmured. "That's not enough to blur reality, not enough to have such dreams."
"Mr. Copia..." you whispered back, exhaling softly.
"You never learn, sĂŹ?" He whispered, his voice husky. "Copia, just Copia... per favore," he pleaded in a hushed tone, his thumbs tracing gentle circles on your cheeks. You hesitated, about to respond, but he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as if seeking another kiss.
"Your breath smells like alcohol..." you murmured feeling his breath warm against your skin.
"I- Is... Is that a problem?" he asked, his voice tinged with nervousness.
Meeting his gaze, you sensed his apprehension. Your hands left his shirt, finding their place on his face, mirroring his touch. Leaning in, you closed the gap between your lips and his, sharing a gentle kiss.
The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if both of you were testing the waters. His lips were warm and inviting, and you could feel his hesitation slowly melting away. Encouraged, you deepened the kiss, your fingers tracing the contours of his jaw. Copia responded in kind, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer.
And then, the kiss grew more fervent, each movement more urgent than the last. Your hands slid from his face to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Copiaâs fingers traced the outline of your waist, sending shivers down your spine as they traveled up your back, pressing you firmly against him.
Your breaths became ragged, mingling with his as the kiss continued to escalate. His tongue brushed against your lips, seeking permission, and you parted them in response, allowing him to explore. The sensation sent waves of heat coursing through your body, making your knees weak.
Copiaâs hands roamed more freely, one settling on the small of your back, the other tangling in your hair, anchoring you to him. The passion between you two was undeniable, each touch, each kiss, igniting a fire that spread through your entire being. You could feel his heart racing against your chest, mirroring your own.
Finally, Copia broke the kiss, looking at you with half-opened eyes and swollen lips. Both of you were panting as you gazed at each other. The hand he had on your head moved to cup your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your lower lip. You parted your lips slightly, your eyes locked on his, and when the tip of your tongue touched his digit, Copia groaned, closing his eyes.
His reaction sent a shiver through you, the sound of his groan reverberating in your chest. His thumb lingered on your lip, tracing its outline slowly, and you could see the conflict in his eyes as he opened them again, dark with desire yet softened with a tenderness that made your heart flutter.
âIâŠâ he began, his voice hoarse with emotion.
You silenced him with a gentle touch of your fingers to his lips, shaking your head slightly. âNo words,â you whispered. âJust⊠kiss me.â
Copiaâs eyes flickered with understanding, and he leaned in once more, capturing your lips in another kiss. This one was softer, more controlled, but the underlying desire was still there. His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a gentle insistence.
He pulled back once again and immediately went to your neck, kissing it hungrily. Your breath caught in your throat, and your hand instinctively grabbed his hair, keeping him there. His hands kept exploring your body, this time with more urgency as they found their way to your backside, grabbing it firmly before returning to your waist.
His lips trailed along your neck, leaving a burning path in their wake. You could feel his hot breath against your skin. âCopiaâŠâ you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath.
He responded with a low growl, his grip on your waist tightening. His kisses became more fervent, his desire evident in every movement. You arched into him, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. You couldnât help but moan softly every time his mustache brushed against your skin after each kiss. The growing heat between your legs compelled you to lift one of them, sliding it from his leg until it rested on his hips, pulling him closer to you.
Copia pulled away from your neck and looked at you, his eyes sparkling with desire. He glanced down at the small gap between your bodies, then moved his hips, pressing himself between your legs. You felt itâthe hardness concealed behind his pants pressing straight against your core, a gasp escaped your lips as the sensation made you wetter. Copiaâs eyes snapped back to yours, his gaze intense and filled with longing. He ground his hips against you, eliciting a low whine from your lips.
âGiulietta,â he murmured, his voice a husky whisper. âDo you want this?â
You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as you leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. The intensity of your embrace left no doubt about your answer. Copia responded with equal fervor, his hands roaming over your body, exploring every curve and dip.
Copia gave you a last peck on your lips before he gracefully dropped to his knees in front of you. The leg you had on his hips now rested on his shoulder as his hands caressed the back of your legs. You turned your face to look at him, meeting his gaze with anticipation. His eyes sparkled with mischief, a grin playing on his lips as he looked back at you.
"Are you sure about this?" Copia asked, his voice husky with desire, as he looked up at you.
You nodded, biting your lip nervously. "Yes," you whispered.
Copiaâs hands moved from your legs to your hips, pulling you closer to him. "Tell me if you want me to stop at any moment," he said softly, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.
You nodded again, a blush creeping up your cheeks. "I will," you promised, your heart pounding in your chest.
With a gentle touch, Copiaâs fingers began to trail up your thighs, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the sensation as he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin. His hands slid up the inside of your thighs, inching closer to your core as his face drew near. With a quick movement, he tugged your leotard to the side, exposing your wetness covered by the stockings to the cool air.
"Fuâ" you gasped, your words cut off by the sudden rush of pleasure as Copiaâs mouth enveloped you. "Wait," you managed to say, your voice breathless with desire. "Iâm still wearing my stockings, I need toâŠ"
But your protests were silenced by the intense sensation of his mouth on you. "You donât need to worry about the stockings," he assured you, his voice husky with desire. "Iâll make sure you feel everything through them."
"And what if someone walks in and see us?" you managed to breathe out, trying to cling to rationality amidst the overwhelming sensations.
Copia lifted his head, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "Let them," he said. "We are at the main stage anyway."
With that, he returned his attention to your core. Your breath caught in your throat as Copiaâs warm breath ghosted over your sensitive skin. You gasped as his lips made contact, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. His tongue flicked against your folds, eliciting a moan from deep within your chest.
You clutched at his hair, urging him closer as the sensations overwhelmed you. Copiaâs mouth worked tirelessly, his tongue exploring every inch of your core, consuming your every thought.
Copia continued his ministrations, his lips and tongue working through the fabric of your stockings. Despite your initial hesitation, you found yourself surrendering to the sensation, your grip on his hair tightening as you arched your back, offering yourself fully to him.
"I-I canât believe weâre doing this," you gasped, your voice trembling with desire.
Copia paused for a moment, his gaze locking with yours. "How does it feel?" he asked.
You struggled to find the words to describe it. "Itâs⊠incredible," you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
A satisfied grin spread across Copiaâs lips as he returned to his position between your legs. His mouth widened, eagerly taking in all of your wetness as his tongue delved deeper, lapping up your juices. Your legs trembled involuntarily, and you tried to close them. In response, Copia growled against your core, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he squeezed your thighs tightly, holding you in place.
He didn't stop, his sucking and licking only getting more and more intense. With each flick of his tongue and every tug of his lips, he brought you closer and closer to the edge. The sensation of his sideburns brushing against your skin only heightened the pleasure, adding an unexpected element that made your whole body tremble.
Just as you felt yourself close to come, a sound pierced the air, causing you to startle and pull away from Copia immediately. He looked at you, a hint of confusion in his eyes, as you quickly adjusted your leotard back into place. Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you scanned the surroundings.
"What was that?" you asked, a nervous edge in your voice.
Copia got up from his position and walked over to where you stood, his expression puzzled. "I'm not sure," he admitted, furrowing his brows in thought. "But it sounded like a door slamming shut."
You let out a nervous laugh, the tension dissipating. "Well, I guess I got startled for nothing," you chuckled.
Copia gazed into your eyes, then down at your lips, before returning his gaze to your eyes. A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he cupped your face with both hands, pressing a lingering peck on your lips. As he pulled away, you bit your lower lip, wrapping your arms around him to press a longer kiss on his lips, feeling his wet mustache brush against your philtrum.
You pulled away slightly, your noses brushing against each other. "I think we should..."
"SĂŹ?" Copia asked, his thumbs gently caressing your cheeks.
"Head back to the hotel," you said.
"Ah... SĂŹ, sĂŹ, the hotel," he nodded, taking a small step back.
"I just need to... get dressed properly," you said, glancing down at your attire.
You took a deep breath and walked over to your bag, rummaging through it for your clothes. Quickly, you dressed yourself, pulling on your street clothes over your leotard. Once dressed, you turned back to Copia, who was watching you with a gentle smile. He extended his hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, then placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his touch.
Copia's fingers closed around yours, and he gave a reassuring squeeze. "Ready?" he asked softly.
You nodded, and together, you walked towards the exit, your hand firmly held in his. As you and Copia left the stage and headed for the door, you felt his hand shift, intertwining his fingers with yours. A deep shade of red crept into your cheeks.
Hand in hand, you and Copia left the theater, walking back to the hotel in a comfortable silence. The night air was cool, and the quiet streets provided a tranquil backdrop to your thoughts. As you reached the hotel, Copia reluctantly let your hand go, but not before pressing a gentle kiss on your knuckles, making your heart flutter.
He opened the door for you, allowing you to step inside. He followed you in, and together, you casually made your way to the elevator, keeping a comfortable distance as if you werenât together. It felt almost like a secret, perhaps it was, and it belonged to just the two of you.
The elevator was already on the ground floor, so there was no need to wait. You both stepped inside and pressed the buttons for your respective floors. The doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent.
Inside the elevator, your eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between you. Neither of you could tell who made the first move, but suddenly you found yourselves closing the distance, your bodies guiding themselves toward each other.
Your lips met in a heated kiss, mouths moving in perfect sync. You melted into his embrace, your arms winding around his neck as his hands found their place on your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss deepened, a mingling of breaths and soft sighs. The intensity of the moment made your heart race, and the warmth of his body against yours was all-consuming.
Suddenly, the sound of the elevator indicating your floor pierced through the air, pulling you both out of the moment. You both pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, but neither of you moved from each other's embrace. The doors of the elevator slid open, revealing the hallway of your floor.
Copia turned his head towards the open doors, a sadness evident in his eyes. The moment of reality hit, and the reluctance to part was evident. His arms remained around you, holding on for just a bit longer, as if trying to enjoy every remaining second.
Copia sighed deeply, looking into your eyes. "I don't want to let you go," he murmured, his voice tinged with sadness.
You gently cupped his face, your thumb brushing his cheek. "I know, but we have to," you whispered back.
He held you tighter for a moment, then reluctantly loosened his grip. "I know," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Will I see you tomorrow morning?"
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yes, of course. We have the performance to get ready for."
He let out a small, sad laugh. "SĂŹ, you're right."
As you stepped out of the elevator, Copia reached out, catching the door just before it closed. "Buonanotte," he said softly, his eyes lingering on you.
"Goodnight, Mr. Copia," you replied, turning to walk down the hallway.
Just as you started to walk away, Copia reached out and grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards him. Before you could react, he leaned in and pressed a quick, tender peck on your lips.
"Now, that's a proper goodnight," he said with a soft smile, his eyes sparkling.
You couldn't help but smile back, your heart fluttering. "Goodnight, Copia," you whispered.
He released your hand, allowing you to walk away, but the warmth of his touch lingered. Unable to help yourself, you impulsively grabbed his hand again, pulling him out of the elevator and bringing him close to you. At first, Copia looked a little shocked, but as you drew nearer, his expression softened, and his hands instinctively found their way to your hips. Copiaâs hands tightened gently on your hips, drawing you closer. His breath was warm against your cheek, and his eyes held an unmistakable blend of tenderness and desire.
He chuckled softly, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I never thought you'd kiss me. But I canât say I didnât want it."
"Neither did I," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, you looked up at him, your own hands resting against his chest. "And Iâm not complaining."
He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "I want to kiss you so much more," he confessed, his thumb tracing small circles on your hip.
"Then donât stop now," you whispered back, your fingers tracing the outline of his jaw.
He nodded, his nose brushing lightly against yours. "Are you sure you don't want me to stop?" he inquired, his lips hovering just a breath away from yours. "Don't ask me to keep going if you're not sure you really want me to keep going with you."
You nodded, your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into him, your lips meeting in a slow, lingering kiss. As the initial kiss broke, you and Copia exchanged quick, eager pecks. The rhythm of your kisses intensified, your bodies pressing closer. You felt his hands slide up your back, pulling you tighter against him, and your fingers threaded through his hair, drawing him in.
The pecks lingered longer, lips parting slightly, your heads tilting to opposite sides. Just as the next kiss was about to deepen, the sudden chime of the elevator startled you both. You pulled away abruptly, both of you instinctively stepped back, hands dropping to your sides. Breathless, you exchanged wide-eyed glances.
"WeâŠ," you began, trying to catch your breath, your voice barely above a whisper.
"Yes, we should," he agreed, his tone equally breathless, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.
You nodded, your heart pounding. Once the elevator doors shut and it became clear that no one had exited, you both took a deep breath, a shared chuckle.
âThat was close, sĂŹ?â Copia said as he ran a hand through his hair.
âToo close,â you agreed, a smile tugging at your lips. âBut it looks like we have a bit more time.â
His eyes sparkled with mischief as he took a step closer, the warmth between you rebuilding. âSo, where were we?â
âRight about here, I think,â you said softly, your hand finding its way back to his.
He nodded, his gaze locking onto yours as he leaned in. âProprio qui,â he murmured, his lips brushing against yours once more.
His hands found their way back to your hips, pulling you against him, and you responded by wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer.
"But I suppose we both should rest now," he said in a hushed tone, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Tomorrow is the big day, and I don't want to keep you awake."
You bit your lower lip, a teasing glint in your eyes. "Keep me awake, Mr. Copia?"
He chuckled softly. "You know what I mean, Giulietta," he replied, his voice low and intimate. "You need to be at your best for the performance. And as I told you before, I'd keep going."
"I know," you sighed, leaning into his touch. "But it's hard to think about anything else right now."
"Questa sera, non penso a nulla tranne te che occupi i miei pensieri," his smile was tender as he cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. "We'll have plenty of time after the performance," he promised. "For now, you need to get some rest, tomorrow is your big day."
You nodded, reluctantly stepping back. "I know," you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper. "Well, in that case... Goodnight, Mr. Copia."
"Buonanotte, Giulietta," he replied, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned to head back to the elevator.
You watched him walk away, feeling the absence of his touch immediately. Standing in the hallway, you waited as he approached the elevator. When it finally arrived, he turned back to look at you, giving you a small wave. You waved back, watching him step inside. As the doors closed, you sighed, turning to head to your room, walking now in the empty corridor.
A knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. You had been awake for a few hours now; sleep had eluded you after what happened at the theater. You couldn't believe what you'd done, and while you were shocked by your actions, you were also very content with them.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your hair before walking over to the door. Opening it, you were half-expecting to see Copia standing there, but instead, it was Anton with a breakfast tray.
"Good morning," Anton said with a cheerful smile. "I brought you some breakfast from downstairs as I didn't see you there."
"Thank you," you replied, a hint of disappointment on your voice. You picked up the tray and setting it on the small table by the window.
Anton followed you in, setting himself comfortably on the edge of the bed. "You seem a bit disappointed. Everything okay? Didn't want to see me? Well, if that's the case I have bad news because you will have to see me."
You stirred your coffee absentmindedly. It wasn't that you didn't want to see Antonâafter all, you two were friends. The problem was that you couldn't stop replaying every moment from yesterday in your head. Maybe you were expecting too much this morning or maybe you did last night, as you hoped he'd knock on your door like in a romantic movie, saying, "I can't sleep, I need you." But that didn't happen, and all you had was the memory of Copia's hands, the way his lips moved against yours, the intensity of his gaze. It was all so vivid.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, shaking your head slightly to clear it. "Just... a lot on my mind."
Anton raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Anything to do with a certain... thing?"
You looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "A thing? Yeah, I guess."
Anton chuckled. "Spill it."
"Spill what?" you laughed. "What exactly do you want to know?"
"Anything," he gestured with a grin. "Just distract me with your gossip."
"Distract you? Gossip?" you asked, tilting your head. "You're weird... Is everything alright with you?"
Anton sighed, his usual grin fading. "It's my partner again. We had another fight."
You frowned. "This morning?"
"Yeah," Anton said, looking down. "They called me and said they left my things at the entrance of the building. Told me to pick them up when I got back or he'd throw it away."
"I'm so sorry, Anton," you said softly.
He looked up at you, eyes pleading. "What should I do?"
"Well, if someone can't appreciate you and keeps causing you grief, maybe it's time to move on. You deserve better than someone who treats you like that. It's just... some people can be really selfish and controlling, you know?"
Anton nodded slowly, clearly absorbing your words. "You're right. I just... I don't know how to handle it. But itâs hard to just let go, you know? What if I made a mistake somewhere?â
"Anton, you didnât make a mistake," you insisted. "People like that are toxic. Theyâre selfish and only think about themselves. Youâre better off without someone who doesnât appreciate you."
Anton gave you a grateful smile. "Thanks."
"Of course," you replied. "I'm here for you."
He took a deep breath, trying to shift the focus. "So, enough about my mess. What happened with you last night? You seem distracted today."
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. "Well... Mr. Copia and I... we... kissed."
Antonâs eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? You and Mr. Copia? How did that happen? What more are you hiding from me?"
"Nothing... J-Just the kiss," you laughed nervously. "It was after rehearsal. I stayed behind to practice a bit more, and... he showed up and one thing led to another."
Anton grinned. "Wow, that's... unexpected? How do you feel about it?"
"Iâm happy," you admitted, a smile tugging at your lips. "But also a bit nervous. I donât know where we stand now."
Anton nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe it's too early to think about that. Besides, don't you feel weird about it? He is a teacher anyway."
You hesitated, chewing on your bottom lip. "I guess... it does feel a bit complicated. I mean, yes, he's in a position of authority, and yes, it could be seen as inappropriate."
Anton sighed. "Exactly. You have to be careful. Things like that can get messy quickly. You don't want to end up hurt or in trouble because of it."
You nodded, feeling a knot form in your stomach. "Yeah, you're right. I just... I don't know. It felt right in the moment and it was so good."
"Look, I understand," Anton said gently. "Just make sure you're thinking clearly about it. And maybe talk to him about it too."
"Talk to him? About what?" you asked.
"About you two," Anton replied, a hint of seriousness in his voice.
A wave of nervousness washed over you. Your body tensed, and you felt a chill run down your spine. The thought of what others might think about you and Copia filled you with genuine fear.
"T-There's no... 'us,'" you stammered, your voice shaky.
"But you just told meâ" Anton began, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"I think I overreacted," you interrupted, cutting him off quickly. "It was just a kiss. It didn't mean anything, right? Just a kiss that shouldn't have happened," you said, trying to convince both him and yourself.
"If it didn't mean anything, then why do you seem so stressed?" he asked gently. "And why does it matter so much to you if it was just a kiss?"
You shrugged, trying to brush off his question. "It's complicated," you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
Anton reached out, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. "Complicated how?"
You hesitated, struggling to find the right words. "I... I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you. "Maybe I'm just overthinking it."
Anton gave you a sympathetic smile. "Maybe. But maybe there's more to it than you realize."
You searched for the right words, but they eluded you. As the silence enveloped the room, you struggled to find the right words to express the emotions swirling inside you. Each attempt felt inadequate, leaving you feeling more lost than before. Sensing your turmoil, Anton approached you and pulled you into a warm embrace.
"Itâs okay," Anton whispered softly. "Itâs fine to not know what to do or say."
You buried your face in his shoulder, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. "I just feel a little confused, Anton. I donât know what to think about it now."
He rubbed your back gently, offering comfort. "You donât have to have all the answers right now. Itâs a lot to process. Just take it one step at a time."
"But what if I make the wrong choice?" you asked, your voice muffled against his shirt. "Actually, what if I have made the wrong choice?"
"Life is full of choices, and sometimes we do make mistakes," Anton replied. "But thatâs how we learn and grow. Youâre allowed to be unsure," he gently pulled back. âNow, come on, letâs get you dressed. We need to start getting ready for later. We need to meet upstairs with your favorite teacher."
You glanced up at Anton, and he chuckled at the expression on your face. Giving him a playful punch on the shoulder, you walked over to your bag. As you rummaged through it, your fingers brushed against the fabric of an outfit. You pulled it out and held it against your chest.
âIâll be right back,â you said calmly, heading towards the bathroom.
Once inside, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath. The reflection in the mirror showed your conflicted expression, but you forced a small smile, determined to push through the confusion. You started to change into your clothes.
After a few moments, you emerged from the bathroom. Anton was still waiting for you. He looked up and smiled as you approached. You made your way to the bed, gathering your ballet slippers and tucking them into your bag. You then retrieved a pair of sweatpants and a shirt for after the presentation, carefully folding them and tucking them into your bag.
"Should I bring my bag now? It's a bit early," you asked, glancing at Anton.
He pondered for a moment, then nodded. "Probably a good idea. We've got a meeting and a short rehearsal, so you can leave it in the dressing room. That way, you won't have to worry about it later." He stood up and extended his hand to you. "Ready?"
You nodded, slinging the bag over your shoulder. Anton walked to the door, opening it and stepping out. You followed closely behind, closing the door behind you. Together, you made your way to the elevator, which, luckily, was already on your floor.
As the elevator descended, you and Anton continued your conversation. Anton's light-hearted jokes and easy laughter were infectious, and you found yourself momentarily distracted from your swirling thoughts. Still, a part of you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement to see Copia again this morning. After everything that happened yesterday, you were eager to see him.
When the elevator chimed, indicating you had reached the lobby, you and Anton stepped out, still laughing and talking. The lobby was bustling with activity as other dancers and staff moved about, preparing for the day's events.
As you approached, your eyes scanned the area, searching for that familiar face. But instead of Copia, you saw Mr. Conti, your teacher, standing there with a welcoming smile. The sight of him made your heart sink a little. You had hoped to see Copia first thing, to share a knowing glance or a quick word.
Conti greeted you both warmly, pulling you and Anton into a friendly embrace. "Ah, my stars," he said with a broad smile. "I hope Copia took good care of you while I was away."
Anton glanced at you, a slight raise of his eyebrows questioning whether you would respond. You forced a smile and nodded, though your mind was elsewhere, trying to understand why Conti was here and the absence of Copia this morning.
"Well, there's no time to waste," Conti continued, clapping his hands together. "We have a lot to cover today, so let's get started. We'll have a quick meeting, then a final rehearsal before tonight's performance."
As Conti began to outline the day's schedule, your eyes kept drifting towards the elevator, hoping to see Copia emerge. But he never did. Your disappointment grew with each passing minute. Why wasn't he here? Why hadn't he shown up for the meeting? You tried your best to focus on what Conti was saying, but it was hard to shake the growing sense of unease. You had expected Copia to be here, and his absence left you feeling anxious and unsettled. Despite your efforts, your thoughts kept wandering back to him.
When the meeting ended, you all made your way to the bus. You couldn't help but hold onto a sliver of hope that Copia might show up at the last minute. But as the bus filled with your fellow dancers and pulled away from the hotel, it became clear that he wasn't coming.
Your heart felt heavy as you arrived at the theater and made your way to the stage. You kept glancing around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he was nowhere to be seen. The warm-up began, but the distraction of Copia's absence weighed heavily on your mind. You struggled to focus, your thoughts a mix of disappointment, confusion, and a lingering hope that maybe, just maybe, he would still show up.
Have you done something wrong? Was Copia regretting what you two had done? The questions gnawed at you, each one deepening your confusion and sadness. Was he avoiding you because he felt guilty about what happened between you?
As the warm-up continued, you kept glancing toward the door, hoping for any sign of Copia. But he never appeared. The disappointment was painful, mingling with the anxiety about the upcoming performance. You tried to push the thoughts away, to focus on your movements, your technique, and the music. But the questions lingered, making your chest tighten. You had shared something special with Copia, something that felt real and significant. Why did it feel like he had just disappeared?
Each moment that passed without his presence only deepened your despair. You couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, that maybe he regretted what had happened, and it left you feeling more lost than ever.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Contiâs sharp tone startled you.
You turned to face him, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Conti," you stammered, feeling a lump form in your throat.
"Sorry isnât good enough!" he barked, his eyes narrowing. "This is our last rehearsal before the performance. You need to focus. You're too distracted and itâs affecting your performance. Everyone's performance."
You swallowed hard, the sting of his words cutting deep. "I understand. I apologize. Iâll do better," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
Conti shook his head, clearly frustrated. "Do you think the audience will care about your excuses? They expect perfection. If you canât deliver, youâre letting everyone down. Your fellow dancers, the company, and yourself."
You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes but blinked them back. "I promise, Iâll focus. It wonât happen again," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Conti sighed, rubbing his temples as if trying to stave off a headache. "You better. This is your last chance to get it right. Donât waste it."
You glanced around, noticing the concerned looks from your fellow dancers. The embarrassment was overwhelming, but you knew Conti was right. You had to pull yourself together. Taking a deep breath, you straightened your posture and nodded to yourself. You would focus, you would perform to the best of your ability, and you would not let Copiaâs absenceâor your emotionsâruin everything you had worked so hard for. There was no time for distractions.
Taking a deep breath, you straightened your posture and squared your shoulders. The sting of Contiâs harsh words still echoed in your mind, but you used that as fuel to refocus. As the music started again, you felt a renewed determination course through you. This was your moment to prove yourself.
You moved with precision, every step and turn executed with meticulous care. You could feel the weight of the performance settling onto your shoulders, but instead of crumbling under it, you thrived. Each leap felt higher, each spin more controlled. The other dancers seemed to notice the shift in your demeanor. You could see Anton smiling encouragingly at you from the corner of your eye.
When the music finally came to a stop, you held your ending pose, breathing heavily, staring into the empty seats. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You had to find a way to get through this, to focus on the performance ahead. But the ache in your chest was a constant reminder of his absence. The room was silent for a moment, and then, slowly, the applause began. It was hesitant at first, but soon it grew louder and more enthusiastic.
"Well done," he said, nodding in approval. "Thatâs the focus and dedication we need. Keep it up."
"Thank you, Mr. Conti," you replied, your voice steady.
He nodded once more before turning his attention to the rest of the dancers. "All right, everyone, that was much better. Letâs keep this energy for the performance."
Conti called for a break, signaling the end of the rehearsal. The group began to gather their belongings and you followed them. The other dancers, including Anton, came up to you, offering compliments and praises.
"You were amazing out there," Anton said, giving you a supportive pat on the back. "Conti was a jerk to push you. But you were amazing."
"Thanks," you replied, a small smile spreading across your face.
Once you were done, everyone made their way out of the rehearsal space and towards the waiting bus. The ride back to the hotel buzzed with chatter, but you found a seat next to Anton, who was still beaming with pride for you. Despite his enthusiasm, you remained silent. The entire journey back, you were enveloped in silence, lost in your thoughts.
As the bus pulled up to the hotel, you couldn't help but glance around, hoping to catch a glimpse of Copia. But there was no sign of him. A small pang of disappointment hit you again, but you pushed it aside. You had done well today, and that was what mattered. Everyone filed off the bus and headed back inside the hotel. You followed Anton to the elevators.
"You really nailed it today," Anton said, pressing the button for your floor.
"Thanks, Anton," you replied. "I just hope I can keep it up for the performance."
"You will," he assured you. "You've got this."
The elevator doors opened, and you stepped in. Until you arrived at your floor, you maintained your quiet demeanor, avoiding any conversation and doing your best not to engage in any others. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out and turned to Anton, offering him a small, appreciative smile.
"Thanks for being there for me," you said sincerely. "I really appreciate it."
"Anytime," he replied with a smile. "Get some rest. You've earned it."
With a nod, you entered your room, closing the door behind you. The silence greeted you like an old friend. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself that you had given your best effort, and it had paid off. Now, the key was to maintain that focus for the performance. And maybe, just maybe, you'd see Copia again soon. After all, he wouldn't miss the performance.
The afternoon passed faster than you'd realized, a blur of thoughts and emotions sweeping you along. You couldn't even remember if you'd had lunch or not. The constant whirl of your feelings about Copia distracted you, pulling you away from the present. It wasn't that you were in love with him, but the desire to see him again consumed your thoughts, making it hard to focus on anything else.
By the time you returned to reality, you were already in the dressing room, preparing for the performance. The familiar routine of getting dressed should have grounded you, but your mind kept drifting back to Copia. You wondered if he would come, if you'd see him in the audience or backstage.
Every sound outside the dressing room door made your heart skip a beat, hoping it might be him. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the hope of seeing him lingered, adding an edge of anxiety to your nerves.
But there was still hope, a persistent, flickering hope that he would be watching from the front row or any row. The thought that he might be there, his eyes on you as you danced, filled you with purpose. You imagined what it would be like to perform for him, and if it would feel like dancing with him.
Suddenly, there was a knock on your door. You hurried to open it, your heart racing with anticipation, only to find Conti standing there, looking calm and composed.
"You look ready," he said, his tone reassuring. "We'll be on the stage soon."
"Thank you," you replied, managing a small smile.
"Break a leg," Conti continued. "Just a few more minutes to get ready."
You nodded. "I'll be there."
He turned to leave. "See you out there," he said over his shoulder.
You closed the door and went straight to the mirror, staring at your reflection. Steadying your breathing, you tried to shake off the grip of anxiety in your stomach and the feeling of something blocking your throat. It was now or never, tonight and not any night. This was your time to shine. You needed focus, determination. You had worked hard for this moment, and you knew you would be incredible.
You took a final deep breath, smoothing out your costume and making sure everything was perfect. After one last look in the mirror, you gathered your composure and left the dressing room. As you approached the group of dancers, you spotted Anton in his remarkable Romeo outfit.
"Wow, you look absolutely beautiful," Anton said, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "How are you feeling?"
You tried to find the right words, your emotions swirling inside you. "Iâ" you began, but before you could continue, Conti's voice cut through the noise.
"Alright, everyone, attention please! The performance is about to start. Get into your positions!"
You exchanged a quick, reassuring smile with Anton before moving to your place on stage. The moment had arrived, and as you took your position, the anticipation in the air was almost tangible. It was time to shine.
The music swelled, signaling the beginning of the performance. As the curtains slowly opened, revealing the stage bathed in soft, romantic lighting, you took a deep breath, channeling all your self and focus into the role of Juliet.
The first act unfolded gracefully, with Anton embodying Romeo with his every movement. Together, you danced through the scenes, your harmony evident in every lift, every turn, every glance. As you moved through the ballet, your mind occasionally drifted, searching the rows of guests for a glimpse of Copia. Each time you scanned the faces in the audience, hope surged within you, only to fade when you couldn't find him. The disappointment began to weigh on you, threatening to pull you out of character.
Despite your growing sadness, you pushed forward, determined not to let it affect your performance. Anton's strength and grace as Romeo provided a steady anchor, and you clung to the role of Juliet, pouring your heart into every gesture and expression.
The iconic balcony scene arrived, and as you danced, you remembered how Copia and you danced at that night, how he held you, how he touched you and how he almost kissed you. You moved through the choreography with a blend of joy and sorrow, each move expressing the depths of Juliet's love for Romeo. However, it was hard to understand if you were just portraying the character.
As the performance continued, you found yourself losing hope of seeing Copia. The emptiness of not finding him in the audience started to creep in, casting a shadow over your heart. But you pushed through, using that very sadness to fuel the ballet, allowing it to add a layer of poignancy to your portrayal.
The final act approached, and the tragic conclusion loomed. You and Anton danced, and the pain and despair of the characters felt all too real, and the absence of Copia weighed heavily on you. As you as Juliet lay lifeless beside your fallen Romeo, the stage was bathed in a somber light. The music reached its heartbreaking climax, and the audience was left in stunned silence as the lights of the stage turned off.
When the lights were on once again, and all the dancers were at the stage, the applause erupted, echoing through the theater, but a part of you remained distracted, the ache of not seeing Copia was still bothering you. You forced a smile, grateful for the audience's appreciation, yet silently yearning for the one person you had hoped to see the most.
With the final bow, you scanned the audience one last time, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. But he was nowhere to be seen. Your heart sank, and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. As the curtains began to descend, you were the first to leave the stage, your steps hurried and determined.
"Hey! What's wrong? Come back here! Where are you going?" Anton's voice called out to you, filled with concern. But you ignored him, pressing forward toward the backstage.
You burst into the dressing room, closing the door behind you. Crossing the room quickly, you collapsed into a chair, and began to remove your ballet slippers with trembling hands. All you wanted was to escape, to leave this place as quickly as possible. The thought that he hadn't come to see you gnawed at your mind. He didn't care. It felt as if he had his fun, and when you didnât give him what he wanted yesterday, he simply vanished without a word. The realization stung, making you feel both furious and heartbroken. But how could you be angry when your own expectations had set you up for this disappointment?
You rose from the chair and rummaged through your bag, pulling out a pair of sweatpants you had packed earlier. As you started to change, the door suddenly opened. Anton stood there, concern etched on his face as he stared at you.
"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Anton asked, stepping inside.
"I need to get back to the hotel," you muttered, continuing to change.
"Why? What is happening?" His confusion was evident, as he shut the door behind him.
"He didn't come, Anton," you said, your voice breaking. "He didn't even show up. I knew I messed up. I knew it. He probably realized how wrong it was and chose to leave."
"But you don't know that for sure. Maybe something happened!" Anton exclaimed.
"Yes, it did," you snapped, tears welling up in your eyes. "He understood how gross I am. I'm so stupid. This is awful. I should have never kissed him."
"But this morning you were the one saying how happy you were for kissing him," Anton reminded you, his tone gentle but insistent.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "I know, Anton. I was happy in the moment, but now... I just don't know. It feels so complicated."
Anton placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Complicated or not, you deserve to be happy. If Copia makes you feel that way, then maybe it's worth talking to him."
You looked down, your mind racing. "But what if he doesn't feel the same? What if it was just a moment for him?"
"Then at least you'll know," Anton replied softly. "And you can move forward, one way or another."
You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes. "I canât, Anton."
Antonâs expression turned serious. "You canât avoid this forever. It will eat you up inside."
"Iâm scared," you whispered, your voice breaking. "Iâm scared of what he would say, of what Iâd feel if he doesnât care the same way. And even if he does⊠what then? What will everyone else think? He is our teacher, Anton."
"No, Mr. Conti is our actual teacher," Anton pointed out gently. "Mr. Copia is just assisting us for now, and who knows how long that will last. But, what really matters is how you feel, not what everyone else thinks."
"I canât do it," you said, shaking your head more vigorously. "I canât bear the thought of being rejected or judged."
"Well, as your friend, I have to say youâre stronger than you think," Anton said softly. "But you need to decide whatâs more important: avoiding potential pain or pursuing what truly makes you happy."
"I just⊠I need more time," you stammered, stepping back. "I canât talk to him. Not now. Maybe not ever because I have no idea where he is or how to find him."
Suddenly, a knock at the door made both of you turn your heads. You opened it to find Copia standing there, looking hesitant. He held a bouquet in one hand, while his other hand was nervously tucked into his pocket, fidgeting anxiously. You held your breath, feeling your chest tighten as you gazed at him, you were just not quite sure if the sensation was from the pain of almost losing hope or the relief of seeing him again.
"Mr. Copia..." you whispered, your voice barely audible.
"Am I interrupting?" he asked, his voice strained.
You shook your head, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "No, we were just talking."
Copia glanced at Anton, then back at you. "Can we talk? Alone?"
Anton took the hint and stood up. "Iâll see you later," he said, giving you a quick hug before leaving the room.
Once the door closed, you turned to Copia, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in your stomach. "Hi..."
"Hi," Copiaâs expression softened. "You were... very... beautiful out there."
"You watched the performance? I didnât see you," you said, surprised and curious.
Copia nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I was there, watching from the back. I didnât want to distract you. I wanted to see you and you were⊠mesmerizing."
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. "I didnât know. I mean, I was so focused on the dance, but⊠Iâm glad you were there."
He took a step closer, his eyes locked onto yours. "I brought these for you. This is a normal thing to do, sĂŹ?" he said, extending a bouquet towards you.
You blinked in surprise, a smile spreading across your face as you reached for the flowers. "Mr. Copia, theyâre beautiful. Thank you."
His eyes twinkled relief and joy. "Iâm glad you like them. I just wanted to do something special for you."
You held the bouquet close, inhaling the fragrance of the blossoms. "You didnât have to, but it means a lot. Really," you placed the bouquet at small table nearby. "So what do you want to talk about?"
Copia took a deep breath, looking down for a moment before meeting your eyes. "First of all, mi dispiace, I didn't mean to disappear but... I... I must confess thatâI must be honest and say that I heard what Anton said earlier. About it being weird because Iâm a teacher. Is that⊠is that how you feel?" He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours. "I donât want you to feel uncomfortable. If this is too much, we can⊠we can take a step back and pretend it never happened."
You reached out, gently taking his hand in yours. "No, it's not that. I'm okay with you being a teacher, that's not the problem."
He tilted his head, confusion flickering in his eyes. "That's not the problem? So, there is a problem then."
"Yes," you said, your voice wavering. "I mean, no, but yes."
He squeezed your hand lightly. "What is it?"
You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I just⊠I can't stop thinking about it. I need to ask you, I need to hear it from youâŠ"
"That I want you?" he interrupted, his voice firm and sincere. "Because I do."
Your heart skipped a beat. "You do?" you whispered, searching his eyes for any hint of doubt.
He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yes, I do."
"I've been so worried, thinking that maybe you didn't... feel the same way," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
He took a step closer, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. "I've been thinking about you constantly since I entered that studio and you confronted me. It's been driving me crazy. I don't know what is this feeling, but I can't take you out of my mind. I just want to be close to you, to hold you, to kiss you or to just have the privilege to look at you."
You took a step closer, feeling the warmth of his presence. "So, what now?"
He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours. "Now, we take it one step at a time."
You nodded, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. "I'd like that."
Copia smiled and you couldnât help but mirror his smile. You let go of his hand and placed yours on his cheek, pressing a lingering peck on his lips. As you pulled back, Copia rested his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath.
"I think I could get used to this," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.
You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you. "Me too," you replied, your breath mingling with his.
"I was worried you might regret what happened yesterday," Copia confessed, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Regret? No, not at all," you replied, furrowing your brows in confusion. "Why would I?"
Copia's gaze drifted away for a moment before returning to meet yours. "I thought maybe the kiss didn't mean much to you, and that thought... it stung. After I went to your room and overheard your conversation, which I'm sorry for, I returned to my room and found Conti there. He thanked me for my help and said he was ready to be with you all today. With that and what I'd heard, I felt like my time had come to an end. But as I was leaving, I couldn't stop thinking of you and had to come back. I'm glad I had time to see you."
You leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. "It meant something to me. I wanted to kiss you. I couldn't stop thinking about it."
"I couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered, his voice low. "You have no idea how hard it was not to come back to your room, knock on your door, kiss you again, and not stop until we were both breathless."
"Why didn't you?" you asked, a hint of disappointment in your voice. "I was kind of waiting for it..." Your brows furrowed. "But wait, I've just realized that you overheard my conversation with Anton."
"Like I said, I wanted to see you," he admitted. "To kiss you again, hold you, feel you. But I waited until it was morning again, I didn't want to scare you. And then, when I got there this morning, I heard voices coming from your room... and then I overheard what you and Anton were talking about."
"I'm so sorry that you heard it," you said softly, your voice tinged with regret. "I'm sorry for saying those things, they are not true."
Without a word, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender, slow kiss. At first, it was gentle, a soft exploration of each otherâs lips, but soon it deepened. You felt his hand slide lower, pressing you firmly against him as the kiss became more intense. Copiaâs lips moved against yours with a fervent urgency. Your hands found their way to his back, pulling him closer as you surrendered to the intoxicating sensation of his touch.
With each brush of his tongue against yours, the kiss grew hotter, more intense, until you were both lost in a whirlwind of desire and longing. Copiaâs lips trailed from yours, descending to your neck with feather-light kisses. His hand, meanwhile, explored your body with a tender yet possessive touch, tracing the curves of your waist and the contours of your back.
You arched into his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips as his hand roamed over your skin. Each caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, a skilled and desperate touch. Your heart raced as you reached for him, craving the feel of his warmth against yours. With each kiss on your neck, Copiaâs lips left a trail of fire in their wake, marking you as his own with each tender touch. His movements were deliberate, purposeful, as if he was determined to memorize every inch of your skin.
You gasped as his lips found yours once again, a desperate hunger in his kiss. His fingers trailed down your waist, sliding lower until they cupped your ass with a firm yet gentle touch. In one swift motion, he lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.
Copia carried you toward the vanity table, his breath hot against your lips. You could feel the strength in his arms as he held you. The edge of the vanity table pressed against the backs of your thighs as he sat you down, never breaking the kiss.
His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every contour. The intensity of his touch sent shivers through you, your heart racing. The kiss deepened, tongues intertwining in a heated dance.
His lips left yours to trail down your neck, his hot breath sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. His hands, now free, continued their exploration, sliding up your sides, then down to your thighs, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. His hardness pressed against you, sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body.
Your fingers tangled in his hair as he kissed and nipped at your neck. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you closer to him, the heat between your legs started to grew and a soft moan escaped your lips as you pressed yourself closer to him. He groaned softly at the contact, his lips trailing down your neck and over your collarbone. You felt his breath against your skin, hot and heavy, as he moved his kisses lower, your fingers tightened in his hair.
Your breath hitched as his lips continued their descent. "Are we really going to do it here?" you asked.
Copia paused, his lips hovering over your collarbone. He looked up at you, his eyes dark with longing. "I⊠I donât know," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "Maybe we should stop?"
"No!" Gently, you cupped his face in your hands, lifting his gaze to meet yours. "Itâs okay," you whispered. "I wasn't complaining. I... I want to do it. I want you.â
He searched your eyes for a moment, the uncertainty slowly melting away. "But⊠we shouldnât rush," he murmured, his hands still resting on your hips. "I donât want to make you feel like we have to do it or make you uncomfortable."
"You wonât," you assured him, stroking his cheek with your thumb. "I really want it, since yesterday. And Iâm not uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, actually."
A small, relieved smile appeared on his lips. "You really want this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, leaning in to brush your lips against his. "Yes, I do."
He took a deep breath, his hands tightening their grip on your hips as he pulled you closer. "Okay," he said, his voice steadier now. "Okie dokie."
"Just... Will it be at the vanity?" you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Copiaâs cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and he averted his gaze, clearly flustered. "Eh, I⊠I hadnât really thought about it," he stammered. "I mean, itâs not exactly the most⊠romantic place."
You couldnât help but laugh softly at his embarrassment. "Itâs fine, really," you said, guiding his eyes back to yours. "It doesnât matter where it's going to happen."
He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his head. "Well, when you put it that way⊠but still, maybe we should, eh... move somewhere more comfortable?"
"Copia, itâs okay," you reassured him. "Honestly, I kind of like the spontaneity of it."
He raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "You do?"
"Yeah," you nodded, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his lips. "It makes it more exciting. Besides, itâs not like we have a ton of options right now. Just promise me you wonât knock anything over," you teased.
He grinned. "Iâll do my best," he said, his hands sliding back to your hips, pulling you closer. "But I canât make any guarantees. Can you?"
You laughed again, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Fair enough. Now, where were we?"
Copiaâs eyes darkened with desire as he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a deep, passionate kiss. "Right here," he murmured against your lips, his hands exploring your body with renewed eagerness. "Right where we left off."
You nodded, your eyes locked on his. "Please, keep going," you whispered, your voice filled with longing.
He smiled, his eyes glinting with desire. "As you wish," he murmured, leaning in to kiss you again, his hands resuming their exploration of your body.
As the kiss deepened, you felt his hands sliding under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curves of your waist. You gasped softly, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. "Copia," you breathed, your hands moving to unbutton his shirt, eager to feel his skin against yours.
He groaned softly, helping you with the buttons before sliding the shirt off his shoulders. "I want you so much," he admitted, his voice husky with desire. His lips trailed down your neck, and you tilted your head back, giving him better access as he kissed and nipped at your skin. "You were so beautiful on that stage, I couldn't take my eyes of you." His hands moved to the waistband of your pants, his fingers hesitating for a moment. "Is this okay?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper.
"Yes," you nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you encouraged him. "Itâs more than okay."
With your consent, Copia carefully slid your pants down, his hands caressing your legs as he did so. The sensation of his touch was electrifying, and you couldnât help but let out a soft moan.
"You're so beautiful,â he whispered, his voice thick. "The way you dance is majestic. I almost felt envy of the others who got to dance with you," he continued, his hands sliding from your legs to under your dress. "And that thin dress⊠you were perfect," he murmured, his hands finding your hips and pulling you closer. You instinctively opened your legs, accommodating him between them. "I just wanted to touch you," he confessed, his voice barely more than a breath as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. His fingers traced the curve of your hips, sending shivers of anticipation through you.
"Youâre touching me now," you whispered back. Your hands gripped his shoulders, pulling him even closer.
Copiaâs lips found yours again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent. His hands roamed your body with a fervent need, exploring every inch of you as if trying to memorize the feeling. You moaned softly against his lips, your own hands eager to reciprocate, running through his hair and down his back.
With a groan of surrender, Copiaâs hands tightened on your hips, lifting you slightly to position you more comfortably on the edge of the vanity. Your legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, tongues exploring and teasing.
You arched your back, pressing yourself even more against his body, but it wasnât enough. The way he consumed you made you feel like you were on fire, desperate to become one with him. You moved your hips, trying to show him how much you wanted him, how much you needed him. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure as you felt his growing desire confined inside his pants. You couldnât stop moving your hips, searching for the friction you craved.
Copiaâs breath hitched, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he felt your movements. He pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with lust as he looked at you. "I need to feel you," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You nodded, your own need mirrored in his eyes. "Then donât stop," you urged, your hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours. "I need you too, Copia."
With a groan, he helped you, quickly discarding his shirt and then reaching for your dress. The fabric pooled around your waist, and his hands were on you again, exploring every inch of your thighs. His hands slid down your legs, hooking under your knees to pull you even closer. You gasped as you felt his hardness pressing against you.
Copia pressed his hips against yours, moving his head closer to the side of your head. You could feel his hot breath on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "Correct me if Iâm wrong," he started whispering, his voice low and tantalizing, "but I remember I told you that I'd make you feel everything through theseâŠ" he pinched at your stockings, pulling them delicately before letting them snap back against your skin, "...stockings."
You nodded, your mouth opening in a silent moan of pleading. Copia grinned, the heat in his eyes intensifying as he fell to his knees in front of you. His hands traveled slowly down your calves, caressing the silky fabric of your stockings.
"Do you still want me to show you?" he asked, looking up at you with a sparkle of hunger and tenderness.
"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.
His hands continued their slow, deliberate journey, moving up your legs, spreading warmth and pleasure with every touch. You could feel his breath against your skin, each exhale sending ripples of anticipation through your body. With a soft smile, he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh, his lips warm and soft against the delicate fabric. You closed your eyes, resting a hand on his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. As his lips moved closer to where you needed him the most, you tightened your grip on his hair, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from him.
His hands slid from your calves to your thighs, gently urging them apart. You arched your back slightly, trying to get even closer to him, to feel more of his touch. Copiaâs breath hitched as he continued to kiss his way up your thigh, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just beneath the edge of your stockings. One of his hands traveled to your belly, while the other moved your leotard to the side, giving him access to your wetness. The sensation of his fingers grazing your core made you feel yourself grow wetter at his touch. Your core clenching with anticipation.
Copiaâs eyes darkened with lust as he felt your arousal. "Youâre so beautiful," he murmured.He traced a finger along your slick folds, teasing you, making you gasp.
You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, silently begging for more. "Please, Copia," you whispered, your voice trembling with need.
He smiled against your skin, his fingers continuing their gentle exploration. "I want to hear you," he said softly. "I want to know how much you need this."
"I need it so much," you breathed, your body trembling with desire. "I need you, Copia."
Copia gave you a mischievous smirk and brushed his lips against the wet spot on your stockings, his warm breath and the tickle of his mustache sending shivers down your spine. Unable to hold back any longer, you threw your head back and moaned in ecstasy as his tongue slipped through the fabric, licking up your slit. The contact made you gasp, your body trembling when his mouth found your clitoris and began to suck gently. He nuzzled his nose deeper into your folds, the sensation overwhelming as his low growl of pleasure reverberated against your sensitive skin.
You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close, your hips moving, begging for him. "Donât stop," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper. "Please, donât stop."
He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours, filled with an unspoken promise. "I wonât," he said, his voice a low growl. "I promise."
Copiaâs hands gripped your thighs firmly, keeping you in place as his tongue met your wetness. Each flick of his tongue and gentle suck on your clitoris sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You could feel the heat building in your core, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you moved your hips in rhythm with his movements.
"God, yes!" you cried out. "Please, donât stop, keep going."
You glanced down at him, your eyes half-lidded with desire, and saw the intensity of his focus on you. The sight only heightened your arousal. Your hand tightened in his hair, guiding him closer.
"Cazzo, you taste so good," he murmured against your core, his voice muffled.
You arched against him, gripping his head to keep him in place. Your other hand clung to his shoulders, a loud groan escaping your lips as his tongue flicked over your clit. A deep sigh followed, your body shuddering with pleasure. His hands slid up your sides to your waist, then higher to cup your breasts through your dress, gently squeezing them.
He withdrew his mouth from your core, licking his lips as he gazed up at you. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss onto his lips, tasting yourself on his mouth. With a soft sigh, you leaned back against the vanity, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as you gazed into his eyes. Copiaâs hands caressed your thighs, his touch gentle yet possessive as he moved closer, his lips trailing kisses along your inner thighs.
You trembled as his tongue danced across your sensitive skin, his gentle nibbles sending tickles of pleasure coursing through your body. Your hips responded instinctively to his touch, moving in harmony with his ministrations as a soft chuckle escaped his lips. His tongue traced delicate patterns along your folds, teasing and tantalizing with each flick and swirl. Your back bowed even more and you cried out, your core throbbing with need.
His tongue delved into you with a hunger that mirrored your own, exploring every inch of your throbbing core with fervent desire. Your legs trembled under his touch as he held them open, his hands firm yet gentle as he savored your essence. With each probing stroke, he elicited moans from you. As his tongue circled around your entrance, you surrendered to the pleasure.
"I need you inside me," you pleaded, your voice trembling with urgency. "Please, I need to feel you."
Encouraged by your words, Copia rose from his knees, his gaze locked on yours. Breathless, you took in every detail of his face, from each freckle to every wrinkle, until your eyes met his. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss onto your lips. As he pulled away, you brought your thumb to his mouth, gently wiping his mustache before licking your thumb clean. Copia groaned, his chest vibrating.
"Are you sure?" he whispered, resting his forehead against yours.
Your hands moved to his chest, tracing a delicate path down to his stomach, following the trail of hair that disappeared beneath his pants. You gently cupped the outline of his hardness concealed under the fabric, eliciting a hiss from him as he closed his eyes in response.
His hands trembled slightly as they moved to your face, cupping your cheek. "I want to make sure this is what you want," he murmured.
"It is," you replied, your hands sliding into his waistband, "Iâve never been more certain."
He groaned softly, his breath hot against your lips. "You make it hard to resist, you know that?"
"Then donât," you murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck. "I want this, Copia. I want you."
His eyes opened, locking onto yours with an intense gaze. He let his hands caress your thighs, never breaking eye contact. Slowly, he grasped the straps of your dress and pulled them down your shoulders. Kneeling before you, he continued to tug the dress down until it pooled at your feet. With careful hands, he reached for the waistband of your stockings, rolling them down your legs until they slipped off your feet. He discarded them on the floor, his eyes still fixed on yours.
Copia rose to his feet, standing before you. His gaze finally averted from yours, sweeping down your body from head to toe. He took a deep breath, visibly affected. "Your body is beautiful," he murmured, his voice husky. "So beautiful," he sighed, biting his lower lip.
As you spread your legs slowly, revealing your wetness to him, his gaze fixated on your moves. He adjusted himself slightly, and you softly sighed, then gently guided your hand between your legs, parting yourself, revealing yourself to him.
"Please," you whispered, looking into his eyes, "make me yours."
"Not until Iâm sure youâre ready for me," he murmured, guiding your hand away and replacing it with his own.
His finger slipped inside you, delving deep, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. With his other hand resting gently on your belly, he steadied you as he slowly withdrew and then pushed his finger back in, each movement deliberate. The pleasure surged through you, overwhelming in its intensity, causing your body to react to his touch.
"I'm going to take you," his voice was thick with desire, his words barely audible above the pounding of your heart. "Tu sei mia, Giulietta."
He smirked as his fingers curled, expertly finding that sweet spot. It was as if he knew exactly how sensitive you were there, and each touch sent shivers of anticipation down your spine. Unable to hold back, you moaned loudly, but Copia silenced you by pressing his lips against yours, his kiss deep and passionate, muffling your sounds.
You responded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him to you as the kiss deepened. His fingers inside you quickened, matching the intensity of the kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring, dancing with yours as his fingers continued their rhythm inside you. The dual sensations overwhelming you.
Your hand met his wrist, holding it firmly as his fingers continued their deliberate rhythm inside you. The room was filled with the your moans and gasps, mingling with the sound of your wetness. Your hips moved instinctively, meeting the thrust of his fingers, seeking more of the pleasure he was giving you. His thumb found your clit, pressing gently, and the added stimulation made you cry out, your grip on his wrist tightening.
Copia pulled away from the kiss, his breath mingling with yours, and gently removed his fingers from inside you, holding your hand. He brought your hand closer to his face and pressed a tender kiss on the back of it. Your eyes met his, and slowly, you retracted your hand from his grip and placed it on his cheek, cupping it softly. Your thumb caressed his skin, tracing small, comforting circles. Copia leaned into your touch, closing his eyes for a moment.
"I donât want to ask for it again," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I donât want to beg for it," you continued, your eyes pleading. "But please, Copia, please just take me, make me yours, let me feel you, I need to feel you."
Copiaâs eyes darkened with desire at your words. He cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks. "Do you?" he asked softly, his breath mingling with yours.
"Yes," you breathed, your voice filled with longing. "I need you."
He nodded, his resolve firming. With a swift motion, he began to unbuckle his pants. Your hands joined his, fingers fumbling slightly in your eagerness to free him from his constraints. As his pants dropped to the floor, he stepped closer, his body heat enveloping you and you felt his hardness press against you, making you gasp in delight.
Copia positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he guided himself to your entrance. He paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours, seeking final confirmation.
"Please," you breathed, spreading your legs wider.
With a gentle push, he began to slide inside you, filling you slowly, letting you adjust to his size. You gasped, your hands flying to his shoulders, gripping him tightly as he moved deeper. The feeling of him inside you was overwhelming. All you could think about was the feeling of him filling you, stretching you, claiming you.
You gasped as he pulled out and slowly entered you again, the sensation sending shivers through your body. "Copia," you breathed, clutching his shoulders.
Copiaâs breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, "You feel incredible," he groaned, his lips brushing against your ear. "So tight, so perfect."
He watched you carefully, studying your expression for any sign of discomfort. When you gave him a small nod, he began to thrust. You wrapped your legs around him, drawing him closer, relishing the sensation of him inside you. Your hands found their way to his hair, running your fingers through it, holding onto him as his deep, steady thrusts intensified.
You arched your back, matching his rhythm, each movement intensifying the pleasure. "Yes," you moaned. "Donât stop. Just like that."
He responded with a low growl, his pace quickening. "I wonât stop," he promised. "Iâll never stop."
He lowered his head to nuzzle your neck, his warm breath moist against your skin, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you. You dug your nails into his scalp, eliciting a growl from his throat. His rhythm intensified, his pace quickening and becoming more demanding. Your legs tightened around him, and you lifted your hips to meet each stroke, feeling his hardness slide out and rub against your clit.
"Fuck, Copia," you gasped, your voice strained with pleasure. "It feels so good."
Copiaâs hand gripped his hardness as he positioned himself between your legs once more, sliding inside you, a look of pleasure crossing his face as his eyes rolled back.
"Merda," he cursed. "Youâre so wet, it makes it so easy to go deep inside you."
You tightened your legs around him, urging him deeper. "Copia, I...," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I need more, keep fucking me."
He grinned, leaning forward to nip your lips. "As you wish."
Without missing a beat, he did just that, keeping a firm grip on your hips, his movements becoming faster and more intense. The vanity began to shake beneath you, the dressing room echoing with your cries of pleasure and with the sound of the objects falling from it. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, your own temperature rising to match his. His lips found yours again, his tongue plunging deep, mirroring the rhythm of his thrusts.
You clung to him, your fingers digging into his back, urging him on. His hand left your hip and found its way between your legs, rubbing in small circles over your clit. Your eyes fluttered closed, a sob escaping your lips as the sensations overwhelmed you. Your entrance tightened around him, every nerve ending coming alive.
"Cazzo," he grunted, a low rumble in his chest as he pushed inside you, harder than before. "Thatâs it," Copia whispered, his voice husky. "Just let go."
You nodded, unable to form words, your body responding to his every touch. His movements became more focused, more intense, making you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. His thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing it with the same intensity as his thrusts, making you feel like you were melting at his touch, your legs trembling uncontrollably.
"Copia," you breathed his name.
"Just a little more," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He thrust harder, his thumb circling faster.
Your breath hitched, and your body tensed. You didnât know how much longer you could endure this; the sensation was overwhelming. Your walls clenched uncontrollably, your eyes rolled back, and your entire body trembled with the intense pleasure he was giving you. You tried to maintain eye contact with him, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.
"I canât hold on much longer," you whispered, your voice trembling.
"Then donât," he replied, his pace quickening. "Let go for me."
"I want you to come with me," you whispered, your eyes finally locking onto his. "and I want to feel you come inside me."
Copiaâs breath hitched at your words, his rhythm faltering for a moment. He moved faster, his rhythm becoming more frenzited, his hands clutching your hips as he pounded into you. His breath came in rapid pants, and you could feel the tension building within him.
"I going to come inside you," he groaned, his voice low and thick with desire. "I'm going to fill you... deep."
"Yes, please," you urged, tightening your legs around him. "I want to feel everything."
He nodded, his pace quickening. "Just a little more," he panted, his hands gripping your waist tight. "Iâm so close."
You could feel the tension building inside you, the edge drawing nearer with every thrust. "Copia," you gasped, your voice trembling. "Iâm⊠Iâm going toâŠ"
"Me too," he interrupted, his voice strained. "Come with me."
With his words, you felt yourself tip over the edge, your body convulsing around him. With one final, powerful thrust, he brought you both over the edge. You felt him release inside you, the warmth spreading through your core as your bodies shuddering together. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.
"Fuck... I... I can't even... that was incredible," you managed to gasp, wrapping your arms around his neck, lost for words.
"That's... okay," he said, breathless, releasing your waist and wrapping his arms around you. Pressing his nose against your cheek, he whispered, "You don't need to say anything."
You turned your face towards him, meeting his gaze with a smile that slowly spread across your lips. Copia mirrored your smile leaning in to press a gentle peck onto your lips. You took a deep breath and gently placed your hand on his nape, softly caressing it with your fingertips.
"It was incredible," you whispered, your fingers gently tracing the contours of his neck. "It was really, really good."
"Was it?" he inquired, his hands gently caressing your back. "I mean, we've made a mess."
You nodded, leaning in for one more peck on his lips, but the moment was interrupted by a knock on the door. Startled, you tightened your grasp around him, and both of you turned towards the sound.
"Who could that be?" you whispered, surprised.
Copia frowned slightly, his hand still on your back "I'm not expecting anyone," he murmured, his tone low and playful.
You chuckled at his joke, shaking your head. The knock came again, a bit more insistent this time. Copia glanced back at you, a silent chuckle escaping him. You heard your name being called and sighed; they were probably looking for you. Leaning in, you pressed a kiss onto Copia's cheek before he began to pull away.
Taking a deep breath, you tried not to focus on the sensation between your legs, closing your eyes for a moment. "Yes?" you called out, opening your eyes to stare at the door. "I'm still getting dressed, please don't come in."
"Oh!" one of the dancers replied from the other side of the door. "I'm sorry, I won't. I just wanted to let you know that they're looking for you. The bus will depart soon."
"I see," you said, turning your gaze to Copia, smiling as you watched him pick his clothes from the floor and start to get dressed again. "I..." you began but trailed off, mesmerized by the sight of him.
"Are you coming anytime soon?" the voice called again, making you shake your head.
"No," you replied, catching Copia's eye. "You can tell them to go without me. I have other plans." You stepped down from the vanity.
"Ok," the dancer replied. "Please, get back to the hotel safely."
Copia turned his head to the door and waited for a few seconds before speaking. "What plans do you have? Am I interrupting something?"
You chuckled, making your way toward him and placing your hands on his face, pressing a soft peck onto his lips. "I don't know yet. Won't you help me discover?"
Copia grinned and nodded, immediately wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. Your bodies collided gently, his hands caressing your back, one stopping at your lower back while the other cradled the back of your head. He leaned in, kissing you gently and softly. You closed your eyes slowly, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your body impossibly closer to his, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
What would happen from that moment on, you weren't quite sure, and you weren't worried. Your lips moved together in a slow, tender kiss, as if you were communicating feelings that neither of you knew how to name yet. But perhaps, you could at least say that Mr. Copia, or just Copia, would be dancing circles around your heart for a long time to come.
Grammar
Molto bene - Very well
SĂŹ - Yes
Grazie - Thank you
Giulietta - Juliet
Bravi, bravissimi - Well done, excellent
Buonasera - Good evening
Attenzione, tutti, per favore - Attention, everyone, please
Nessun problema - No problem
Mi dispiace - I'm sorry
Giulietta - Juliet
Bene - Well
Per favore - Please
Buon appetito - Enjoy your meal
Ciao - Hello/Goodbye
Molto Bene - Very well
Buonanotte - Good night
Proprio qui - Right here
Questa sera, non penso a nulla tranne te che occupi i miei pensieri - Tonight, I don't think anything but you will occupy my thoughts
Pas de Deux: Ballet Teacher Copia x Fem!Reader | Pt. 1
Summary: With just a few days left until the eagerly anticipated performance of âRomeo and Julietâ in the ballet, the class is surprised when their usual teacher is replaced by a man named Copia, who takes the charge of the final rehearsal before the grand premiere.
Words: 14.772
Warnings: Part one is composed by Chapter 1 and Chapter 2. Chapter 3, 4 and 5 coming next week. No Warnings for this part, only for next week.
Part 1 (Ch. 1 & 2) available on AO3
tag list | tip-jar
PART 2
As you arrived at the studio, you felt the familiar rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. The upcoming ballet presentation was only days away, casting a shadow of excitement and nerves over everything. The thought of stepping into the role of Juliet filled you with anxiety, as you knew that embodying such character demanded nothing less than your absolute best on stage. But you knew you couldn't afford to let your nerves get the best of you.
With a deep breath, you squared your shoulders and focused your mind, pushing aside the lingering doubts and insecurities. There was no room for hesitation or distractions.
Heading towards the dressing room, you exchanged smiles and nods with your colleagues before approaching your locker. With a soft click, the locker disengaged and you swung the door open. Peeling off your shirt and sweatpants, you revealed the sleek lines of your leotard. Adjusting it, you settled onto the bench, reaching into your bag, retrieving your ballet slippers. You slipped them onto your feet, tying the ribbons securely.
Clad in your dance attire, you stepped out into the studio, smiles and waves were exchanged once again as you made your way to the corner of the room for your warm-up routine, until your attention suddenly drawn to a newcomer entering the studio, a man in tight, all-black dance attire.
As all eyes, including yours, turned towards the enigmatic figure â he carried himself with a quiet confidence, effortlessly commanding attention as he sets his bag down in the corner and assumes his place in front of the mirrors.
As you study him, you got struck by his distinctive features â of average height, with a mop of brown hair framing his face adorned with scattered freckles. His facial features are equally striking; sunken eyes lend depth to his gaze, while a meticulously groomed mustache adorns his upper lip. Sideburns trail down from his temples to his jawline, framing his face with an air of old-world elegance. But it's his gaze that truly captivates you; his eyes, one a mesmerizing shade of green, the other an unusual hue that defies description, reminiscent of pale opal, holding a certain intensity.
"Ciao, buonasera a tutti," he began. His voice, a soft and melodic cadence, carried a hint of an accent delicately veiled beneath his English. "My name is Copia. I'm a teacher, and I'll be substituting for Conti for a few days."
Eyes flickered with silent conversations exchanged between dancers, seeking understanding. Before anyone could voice their questions or skepticism, Copia continued.
âThereâs a certain... magia, that each dancer brings to a studio, a unique energia that Iâm eager to witness here,â he remarked, his gaze sweeping across the room. âIâve heard exceptional things about the talents in this studio, and Iâm honored to share this space with such dedicated artists," he said with a gentle smile.
Suddenly, a hand elevated in front of Copia. Tilting his head toward the raised hand, with a subtle gesture, he welcomed the question. "Mr. Copia," one of the dancers, inquired. "What happened to Mr. Conti?"
"Mr. Conti is taking a temporary leave due to a personal matter that requires his attention," he started.
Another hand went up. "Mr. Copia, as we're close to our theater performance date, will there be any changes to the date?"
"Non c'Ăš bisogno di preoccuparsi," he reassured, "The date of your performance remains the same. Any more questions?"
You raised your hand. Copia's gaze shifted in your direction, and he gracefully adjusted his pose, signaling for you to speak. "Mr. Copia, right?" you inquired, noting his confirming nod. "Great, so, my question is: do you even know what we are set to perform?"
"Romeo e Giulietta, sĂŹ?" he responded, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Yes, but, do you know who is playing who?" you inquired, walking to the middle of the studio. "Mr. Contiâ"
"Mr. Conti already told me about everything," Copia interjected. "Tuttavia, if you're uncertain about my knowledge, perhaps you'd prefer to tell me about it or demonstrate it for me."
"What? Me?" you inquired, a little nervous.
Copia nodded, making his way toward you, maintaining eye contact. "SĂŹ, so I can have a notion about how you all are prepared for the performance," he declared, gesturing with his hands to clear space as the other dancers made room for you. "Who are you going to portray at the ballet?" he inquired, his brow arching inquisitively as he leaned against the nearby ballet barre.
"Juliet."
"Giulietta, perfetto," he acknowledged with a nod, a small smile playing on his lips. "And you're training alongside the other dancers for the performance?"
"Yes," you replied, nodding in confirmation.
"Perfetto," he nodded in understanding, pushing off the barre to stand upright. "So, you won't have any trouble showing me," he teased lightly, a playful glint dancing in his eyes as he extended his hand for you to join him on the dance floor.
With a playful chuckle, you stepped forward to join him, deliberately choosing not to take his offered hand. This prompted Copia to smoothly withdraw his hand, tucking it behind his back with grace. As you faced one another, you caught a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. With a slight, inviting gesture, he encouraged you to make the first move.
You positioned yourself, preparing to execute the first step with precision. Copia remained where he was, observing you intently for a few moments before gracefully returning to the mirrors. Pausing briefly, he glanced over his shoulder, meeting your eyes as if seeking your approval. With a subtle nod, you signaled your readiness, and Copia proceeded to cue the music, setting the stage for your dance.
With graceful movements, you began to demonstrate the steps, the music of Prokofiev's ballet filling the air around you. You executed a series of precise pirouettes, your movements fluid and effortless. You weren't focused on it, but Copia couldn't tear his eyes away as you moved with grace and poise. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you lost yourself in the graceful movements, each gesture infused with emotion.
You extended your arms, fingertips reaching towards the heavens with a sense of longing. With each step, each arabesque, your feet moved with precision across the floor, you spun and twirled, arched your back and tilted your head with a soft expression. With a final, breathtaking leap, you landed softly, your body poised in perfect stillness as the music faded into silence.
As the dance came to an end, Copia offered a slow clap, his eyes gleaming with certain amusement. "Molto bene," he commented, his voice carrying a subtle hint of admiration. "I'm impressed, Giulietta."
You returned his smile, a flicker of pride in your eyes. "Thank you, Mr. Copia," you replied. "I've been practicing."
Copia's smile widened, and he nodded. "It shows," he remarked, a hint of challenge in his tone. Copia's gaze held yours for a moment longer before he averted it to the other dancers. "Does anyone have any questions before we begin?" he asked, his voice projecting authority.
A hesitant voice spoke up from the back. "Yes, just one," the dancer said, stepping forward. "How long will you be with us?"
Copia paused for a moment, considering. "I'll likely be here until the day of the performance at the grand theater," he answered.
"Does that mean you'll be traveling with us?" you asked.
Copia nodded affirmatively. "SĂŹ, sĂŹ," he replied with a slight smile. "Are there any further questions?" He inquired, scanning the room. "No? Eccellente," he expressed, smiling. "So, let's start, sĂŹ? On your positions for the warm-up."
With Copia's words, you and the dancers scattered across the spacious room, each finding a spot before the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that lined one wall. The room quickly filled with the soft thuds of ballet slippers against the marley floor, punctuated by the occasional sigh or whisper of fabric.
Copia stood at the front, his presence commanding yet encouraging. As he navigated through the room, his gaze swept the room, offering nods of approval or gentle corrections. You diligently worked on your own, stealing glances in the mirror not just to check your form but to catch glimpses of Copia.
As you concentrated on your reflection in the mirror, you made a conscious effort to divert your attention away from Copia. There wasn't a particularly compelling reason to keep your gaze on him, after all. As you lowered your eyes to your feet, lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice Copia's approach. His footsteps were silent as he closed the distance between you. Suddenly, you felt a gentle tap against your lower back, and his voice, close to your ear, pulled you out of your reverie.
"Straighten here, more power from your core," he advised softly, his touch fleeting.
You widened your eyes, suppressing the urge to let out a startled sound, and instinctively straightened your posture. As you did, you heard a slow, approving hum resonate close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. As he walked away, you found yourself unable to look away, stunned by the unexpected action.
Copia made his rounds, moving among the students, offering guidance on their posture and movements, until he returned to the front of the room. As he turned, your eyes were still on him, and before you could divert your gaze, he caught it. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, betraying your embarrassment. Copia offered you a discreet, knowing grin before turning his attention to the other dancers.
Copia clapped his hands twice, the sound echoing crisply in the room. "Alright, everyone, gather around," he called out.
You and the other dancers gradually slowed your movements, turning your attention towards him converging in a semi-circle. You chose a spot near the edge, and then, his gaze briefly found yours once more. This time, however, you quickly averted your eyes before him, feeling a knot of embarrassment from earlier tightening in your stomach. Determined to regain your composure, you focused on the dancers around you.
"Weâve had a good start this morning, but now it's time to focus on the choreography," Copia announced, his eyes scanning the group before pausing momentarily on you, a unknown smile on his lips. "Today, we're going to drill the sequences that Conti told me it needed the most work, and I expect everyone to give their best. Remember, it's not just about the steps, but the emotion. Let's bring Romeo e Giulietta to life!" he exclaimed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "I'm already familiarized with our Giulietta," Copia mentioned, his gaze briefly meeting yours again before he surveyed the rest of the room. "Tuttavia, Who's the Romeo? Where is he?"
"He hasn't arrived yet," responded one of the dancers.
"Hmm, that's... unfortunate," Copia murmured, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of mild frustration. "Giulietta!"
Nervousness fluttered through you at Copia's call. "Yes?" you responded, stepping forward slightly.
"We might need to improvise a bit until Romeo arrives. Would you be comfortable running through some of your solos? Or perhaps," he paused, a thoughtful look crossing his face, "Would you agree with me standing in for him temporarily? Just in case."
"I... that would be... I mean, if you're sure it wouldn't be too much trouble," you managed to say, your words tumbling out in a rush of excitement and nervousness. "That sounds like a good idea, I think," you agreed, the idea increasing the bundle of nerves in your stomach.
Before Copia could speak, the studio door swung open abruptly, and one of the dancers stepped inside. The newcomer was none other than your friendâthe Romeo in the upcoming performance, Anton.
"I'm so sorry, I'm late," Anton apologized, slightly out of breath. "Mr. Conti, Iâ"
Copia's expression shifted, his brows knitting together. "I'm afraid Mr. Conti isn't here," Copia interjected before Anton could finish his sentence. "Piacere di conoscerti, I'm Mr. Copia. And you are?"
Anton lingered near the door momentarily, his gaze sweeping across the room until it found yours, offering you a small, sweet smile. "I'm Anton," he replied, moving away from the entrance. "I know I was supposed to be here much earlier, but I had some probâ"
Copia lifted a hand, effectively halting Anton's explanation. "Mr. Anton, we can discuss this after class. For now, could you please change into your ballet slippers and join us?"
Anton headed towards a corner of the room, the strap of his bag still slung over his shoulder. The room fell into a respectful silence, all eyesâincluding yours and Copia'sâfocused on him as he efficiently removed the baggy clothes he'd been wearing to reveal the ballet attire beneath. With practiced ease, he slipped off his street shoes and pulled on his ballet slippers.
Once fully changed, Anton made his way over to the semi-circle and stopped right beside you. Without hesitation, he took your hand in his, fingers intertwining. You turned your face to look up at him, meeting his gaze. He offered you a soft smile, one that you couldn't help but reflect back at him.
Copia cleared his throat slightly, a subtle gesture that pulled attention back to him. "Mr. Anton, may I ask, what role are you playing in this ballet?"
Anton's response was both proud and gentle, "I am her Romeo," he said, nodding towards you with a warm smile.
For a moment, a subtle change flickered across Copia's expression, almost imperceptible. "Given that you've just arrived, Mr. Anton, I think it might be best for you to start with some warm-up exercises in the corner," Copia suggested, his tone of voice regaining its usual authority. "The rest of the dancers, excluding Giulietta and her Romeo, per favore, make your way to the dance floor and let's begin today's practice."
The dancers began to gracefully position themselves across the studio floor. Meanwhile, you and Anton retreated to a designated corner. routines. The sound of music filled the air, and Copia counted off the beats, his voice clear over the melody. You couldn't help but steal a glance over your shoulder towards him. He was focused on the dancers, his attention dedicated to their movements.
As Anton began his warm-up, stretching his limbs, he glanced at you, a hint of apology in his tone. "Sorry, I didn't want to make you wait for me to be able to practice," he said, extending into a hamstring stretch. "So, what's the deal with... Copia?"
As Copia's eyes met yours, you immediately turn back to Anton, watching him from one stretch to another, "Ah, heâll be filling in for Mr. Conti for a few days, it seems."
Anton transitioned into a lunge, his focus partially on his form and partially on the conversation. "Why?" he asked, deepening the stretch.
"I'm not sure," you admitted. "He mentioned something about Conti having other obligations, so he will be taking over for a while."
"That's unusual," Anton commented, pausing between stretches, looked at you curiously. "And how have things been going with... this sudden change?"
"Well, fine I guess. He answered some questions, asked me to dance," Anton raised a brow as you said it. "Don't worry, it was because I asked him if he knew what we are doing here and I think he felt a little... confronted? Maybe? And then he asked for a demonstration," you chuckled. "Also, before you arrived he actually offered to dance with me, believe it or not. But then you arrived just in time," you said, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.
Anton raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he resumed his warm-up with a series of arm circles. "Oh? What? He did what?" he prodded, his tone light but probing. "Is he trying to steal you from me?" he inquired with a playful tone.
"Jerk!" you chuckled at his question. "It was just in case you didn't show up. But you are here, so it is fine, really. I'm chill about it. No one is trying to take me away from you, Romeo." you responded, shrugging nonchalantly. "Also... Mr. Copia seems..." you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder, your eyes drifting across the dancers swirling behind you. As your gaze sought Copia, you found him in a corner, his attention fixed on you and Anton, "...capable enough." He gave you a small smile, and turned away.
"Hey, could you help me?" Anton asked.
You turned once again to Anton, moving closer to assist him, you adjusted his posture for the correct alignment. âSo, why were you late today?â
Anton sighed. "It was my partner again," he admitted, shaking his head slightly. "We had another... misunderstanding."
"Still having trouble?" you asked sympathetically.
âYeah,â he admitted with a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping a bit. âIt seems like itâs always something. But I donât want to bring that drama into the studio."
âNo problem,â you reassured him, offering a supportive smile. âYou know you can talk to me. Plus, weâve got to look out for each other here, right?â
Before Anton could reply, Copia's voice cut through the air, âGiulietta,â he called out, drawing your attention immediately. You turned to see him standing with an expectant look on his face. âIs Romeo done with his warm-up?â
âYes, Iâve done a... quick warm-up,â he said, his eyes flicking between you and Copia. âAnd you can call me Anton,â he added with a polite, firm tone.
Copiaâs eyes lingered on Anton for a moment, analyzing his stance and demeanor. âMolto bene, Anton,â he said. âIf youâre ready, letâs start the routine," he turned his gaze back to you, âletâs see how well Romeo can keep up with you.â
"I assure you, Mr. Copia," Anton began, his voice steady, "we can keep up with each other."
Copia regarded him with a hint of skepticism, his gaze sharp. "Is that so, Mr. Anton?" he countered, his tone challenging.
Anton met his gaze squarely. "Absolutely," he affirmed, the confidence in his voice unwavering.
"Bene, let's see it," he replied, a playful challenge underlying his words.
Copia made a subtle gesture towards the sound system. With a click, the studio was filled with the haunting melody of a familiar piece. Without a word, Anton extended a hand towards you, his eyes locking with yours in a silent invitation. With a nod, you accepted, your fingers intertwining with his as you both stepped onto the center of the dance studio.
You and Anton moved gracefully to the center of the studio, aligning yourselves side by side. As the music enveloped the room, you began to dance in perfect harmony, your movements synchronized with Anton's as if you were two halves of a whole.
As Copia approached Anton in silence, the room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his response. When he finally spoke, his voice was gentle, filled with concern. "Are you alright, Anton?" he asked, his tone soft.
Anton winced slightly as he tried to stand up, but managed a weak nod. "I'm... I'm fine," he murmured, offering a faint apology.
"Just take a moment," Copia said, his voice soothing. Turning to you, he gestured for you. "Could you help me, Giulietta?" he asked.
You nodded in response to Copia's request, stepping forward to lend Anton a hand. As you reached out to help him up, your fingers brushed against Copia's, sending a gentle jolt through you. With a combined effort, you and Copia helped Anton to his feet, ensuring he was steady before releasing him.
"Thank you," Anton mumbled, offering a small, sheepish smile as he regained his balance. "And I'm sorry, Mr. Copia," he added.
Copia shook his head gently. "There's no need to apologize, Mr. Anton," he reassured. "The important thing is, are you feeling alright? Can you continue dancing?"
Anton's nod confirmed to continue, and Copia moved gracefully to the center of the studio. His presence commanded the attention of all the dancers, including yourself. As he positioned himself, you furrowed your brows, curious about his intentions. However, before you could even begin to speculate, Copia spoke.
As he spoke, he demonstrated the sequence, his movements fluid and precise. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him, his words and gestures drawing you in, as if mesmerized by his action. You were captivated.
As Copia completed the demonstration, he turned to Anton, a smile playing on his lips. "Maintain control and balance throughout the jump," he reminded him, his tone encouraging yet firm. "Now, let's see, give it a try."
"Keep your back straight and engage your core," he advised, his voice calm and reassuring. "And don't forget to fully extend your legs as you jump."
Anton, with a nod of determination, drew in a deep breath and executed the sequence. Copia observed attentively as he faltered, prompting him to give a subtle nod before stepping forward.
"You see," he began. "You're doing good, but, your landing is too heavy," Copia pointed out. "Focus on landing softly and smoothly to maintain your momentum."
Anton nodded, absorbing Copia's advice, and attempted the sequence once more, this time landing with greater finesse. Copia's eyes gleamed with approval as he nodded in satisfaction.
"That's much better," he praised, his voice resonating with encouragement. "Remember," he started with a playful grin, "imagine you're soaring through the air like a graceful swan, not a clumsy goose!"
"Thank you, Mr. Copia," Anton acknowledged gratefully. "I'll work on it."
âIâm sure you will,â Copia began, glancing in your direction, âGiulitta needs her Romeo, sĂŹ?â as he said it, he gave you a small smile.
You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks at Copia's words, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. But before you could respond, he averted his gaze, addressing the entire class instead.
"Va bene, tutti," he announced, his voice authoritative yet gentle. "Let's take a quick break. Stretch your legs, grab some water, and we'll resume shortly."
As Copia called for the break, the dancers dispersed, heading towards the dressing room to rest and refresh. Just as you were about to follow suit, you felt an arm wrap around your shoulder and a familiar weight leaning against you. It was Anton, his sigh heavy with exhaustion. You shared a small chuckle, reciprocating the embrace by encircling your arm around his waist, and together you made your way towards the dressing room.
As you passed by Copia, you couldn't resist stealing a final glance in his direction. It was a fleeting, almost instinctual movement, you caught a glimpse of him focused on his bag, his attention elsewhere. Satisfied, you redirected your gaze towards the door ahead, determined to put him out of your mind for now.
Entering the dressing room, you and Anton parted ways. Anton drifted off to converse with some other dancers, while you made your way to your locker.
At your locker, you take a moment to catch your breath. You retrieve a water bottle from your bag, taking a few sips to rehydrate. Leaning against the locker door, you close your eyes briefly, allowing yourself a moment of peacefulness before you quietly slipped out. You felt an inexplicable urge to return to the studio, your steps guided by an unspoken impulse. As you entered, your feet led you directly to where Copia stood, his silhouette still near his bag. Lost in contemplation, he appeared absorbed in his own world, retrieving a bottle of water and taking a sip, his gaze distant and thoughtful.
Approaching him, you cleared your throat softly, causing him to startle slightly and turn his attention to you. His eyes widened in surprise, but a warm smile quickly spread across his face as he greeted you.
"Ah, Giulietta," he said, his voice soft yet filled with warmth. "Is there something wrong?" he replied, his voice soft but attentive.
"I just wanted to say... thank you," you said, feeling a blush creeping onto your cheeks. "For how you handled Anton earlier. It was really... kind of you."
Copia's expression softened, and he offered you a warm smile. "Ah, it was nothing," he said modestly. "Just part of the job."
You shifted slightly, crossing your arms. "Well, anyway," you continued, mustering up a small smile. "I just wanted to let you know."
Copia's smile widened, and he nodded appreciatively. "Grazie, Giulietta," he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth that made your heart flutter. "I appreciate it."
You nodded in acknowledgment and turned to head back to the dressing room, but before you could take the first step, Copia's voice drew your attention with a subtle clearing of his throat.
"It's just a pity," he remarked, causing you to pivot back to face him.
"What's a pity?" you inquired, curious.
"I was genuinely looking forward to seeing you dance with Anton," he chuckled, tucking his water bottle back into his bag.
You chuckled, placing your hands on your hips and tilting your head slightly. "You do realize the class isn't over yet, right?" you teased, raising an eyebrow. "Teacher?"
Copia choked slightly, clearing his throat as he nodded. "SĂŹ, sĂŹ," he managed to reply before regaining his composure. "Giulietta, per favore, you don't need to call me 'teacher', 'Mr. Copia' is sufficient."
"Well," you started, taking a step closer to him. "Mr. Copia, since the class isn't over yet, I believe we'll resume practicing once the break ends, won't we?"
Copia blinked, a flicker of nervousness crossing his features before he recomposed himself with a small chuckle. "Of course, Giulietta," he replied, his voice steady. "We'll continue with the practice once the break is over."
"In that case, you'll have the chance to watch me dance," you remarked with a playful glint in your eyes.
Copia's gaze lingered on yours, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I'm looking forward to it," he replied, taking one step closer to you.
As the dressing room door creaked open, you both instinctively took a step back, widening the space between you. A lingering gaze exchanged between you and Copia lasted for a brief moment before you turned away, putting distance between yourselves. With a nod at his direction, you walked away from him, joining the other dancers as they filtered back into the studio.
"Molto bene," Copia exclaimed, clapping his hands together to gather everyone's attention. "Are we ready to continue with the practice?" he inquired, scanning the dancers as they reassembled into a semi-circle. "Mr. Anton!" he called out.
"Yes, Mr. Copia," Anton responded, stepping forward.
"I believe now is the perfect time for you to demonstrate how well you can keep up with Giulietta, sĂŹ?" Copia suggested with a grin, extending one of his hands in your direction. "Giulietta, per favore."
You looked at Copia and made your way towards Anton as the other dancers gave you both space, creating a clear path on the center of the room. Meanwhile, Copia stepped away to set up the music. As the first chord of the song echoed through the room, you and Anton positioned yourselves. This time, there was a sense of determination and fire in your eyes â a silent agreement between you and Anton that failure was not an option.
However, you couldnât shake the feeling of Copiaâs eyes on you, his gaze piercing through the intensity of the moment. Strangely, this only fueled your determination to execute each movement and step with excellence, letting the music dictate your motions.
As the final chords of the song filled the studio, you completed the dance in Anton's arms, the two of you breathing heavily from the exertion. You leaned into him, seeking some balance as you caught your breath, the exhilaration of the dance still coursing through your veins.
The room fell into silence and the sound of applause filled the air, initiated by Copia's clapping. Soon, the other dancers joined in. Stepping away from Anton, you turned to your colleagues, offering them a smile and a nod of gratitude.
"Molto bene," Copia praised between the claps, causing you to turn your head in his direction. "Bellissima," he added, his gaze quickly finding yours.
Feeling a blush creep onto your cheeks from Copiaâs gaze, you shyly smiled and lowered your face, directing your gaze to the floor.
"Sono impressionato, Mr. Anton," Copia continued, his voice carrying a note of admiration. "You're a quick learner and," he paused, a silent chuckle escaping him, "perhaps you can keep up with Giulietta after all. And as for you, Giulietta," Copia said, turning his gaze to you, "great job."
You felt your cheeks flush at the unexpected praise, a shy smile playing on your lips as you murmured a quiet "Thank you, Mr. Copia," unable to meet his gaze directly.
He nodded with satisfaction, crossing his arms. "Now that we've seen our main couple in action, it's time for the rest of the dancers. Procediamo.â He gestured for the other dancers to take their positions, his voice commanding yet gentle as he directed the rehearsal forward.
As the music filled the room once more, the other dancers seamlessly moved into their routines, each step and movement guided by Copiaâs instructions. Occasionally, he would join in, demonstrating steps with grace and precision, his presence commanding attention as he effortlessly led the performance.
As the dance progressed, you joined in with the other dancers, seamlessly blending into the choreography as you moved across the studio floor. As you danced with the others, you found yourself exchanging glances with Copia. Coincidence or intention, his gaze seemed to linger on you, igniting a spark of anticipation with each fleeting look.
You all danced as a cohesive unit, each step synchronized to the rhythm of the music, creating a display of skill and artistry. Copia watched on with pride, his voice cut through the music, offering words of praise and encouragement as the dancers continued to perform.
As the final notes of the music faded away, Copia stepped forward, a proud smile gracing his lips as he addressed the dancers. âBravissimi,â he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. âWell done, tutti,â he exclaimed. âMagnifico,â he declared, his voice ringing out in the now-silent studio. âBravi, bravi tutti.â
While Copia looked over the group of dancers, you could see a glimmer of pride and satisfaction in his eyes. It was as if they were sparkling with admiration.
"It was thankfully to you, Mr. Copia," one of the dancers exclaimed, offering a grateful smile.
"Thank you," another chimed in, nodding appreciatively.
With a warm smile, you stepped forward. "Thank you for guiding us, Mr. Copia," you added, your voice soft but sincere.
Copia's cheeks flushed slightly at your words, and he cleared his throat before responding, his voice trembling ever so slightly. "G-Grazie," he murmured, averting his gaze momentarily. After a moment, he composed himself. "Grazie, everyone. I'm very satisfied with what I have seen here today," his voice returning to its usual tone with a more steady demeanor. "Before we finish today, does anyone else have anything to say?" The dancers exchanged glances, but no one spoke up. Copia nodded. "Well then, let's wrap up for today," he said, his tone gentle. "Bravissimi tutti! Ci vediamo domani."
With that, the dancers began to make their way to the dressing room. Anton hurried to retrieve his bag from the corner of the studio, and you waited for him, extending your hand as he approached, ready to walk into the dressing room together.
Entering side by side, you headed towards your locker, weaving through the other dancers who were already in the process of changing. Some were exchanging goodbyes and waving as they prepared to leave for the day. You took your time, removing your ballet slippers and placing them neatly in your bag.
Suddenly, you felt a kiss on the top of your head, and you turned to see Anton beside you. "Hey," he said with a gentle smile. "I need to go, I need to have a conversation with my partner, so I'll head out first. Are you okay going home alone today?"
You nodded, returning his smile. "Yes, of course. Go ahead, I'll be fine. See you next class."
With a quick farewell, Anton left, and soon other dancers followed suit, leaving you alone in the dressing room to finish changing. After packing up your bag, you stepped out into the studio, where you noticed Copia still lingering, lost in thought, humming some music.
"Bye, Mr. Copia," you said softly.
"Eh!?" he exclaimed surprised, and then he turned to face you, his expression shifting. âAh, Giulietta! It's you.â
You chuckled, nodding as you adjusted the strap of your bag over your shoulder. "Yes, it seems we're the last ones to leave, aren't we?"
He chuckled in agreement, picking up his bag and walking over to where you stood. "SĂŹ sĂŹ, it appears so, Giulietta."
As you anticipated Copia heading your way, he veered towards the door instead. Grabbing the handle, he swung it open and held it, his gaze fixed on you. With a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth, you walked towards him, exiting the studio with him following closely behind.
Copia gestured for you to walk and you fell into step beside him. The silence between you felt strangely intimate, both comforting and uncomfortable at the same time. Determined to break it, you searched for something to say, anything to fill the quiet air.
"So," you began, prompting him to turn his gaze towards you. "What are your thoughts on today, Mr. Copia?"
"You all are incredibly talented dancers," he replied with a nod. "I have no doubt that the debut of the ballet will be amazing."
"Really?" you arched a brow.
"Absolutely!" He exclaimed. "The dancers are amazing; they're all synchronized and dedicated," Copia chuckled softly, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "But I must say, you are were quite impressive."
You raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "Me? Mr. Copia, are you admitting that I might be good and you won't make me dance a solo to prove it?"
Copia's grin widened, his gaze locking with yours. "Forse," he conceded, his tone dripping with playful challenge. "But I suppose we'll have to wait and see, won't we?"
You chuckled. "I suppose we will," you agreed, unable to resist the challenge in his eyes.
He turned his gaze to the front as you both arrived at the front door of the studio building. With a polite gesture, he opened it for you, and you stepped outside, and you exchanged a final nod with him before turning and heading on your way.
"However," he said, causing you to pause in your tracks and turn back to face him. "I believe that you're a very talented ballerina."
You blinked, surprised by his compliment, and a faint blush crept onto your cheeks. "Thank you, Mr. Copia," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
Copia gave you a nod. "See you tomorrow, Giulietta," he said before turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction.
You watched him for a moment, feeling a flutter of anticipation for the next day's class, before finally heading off in your own direction.
Strolling down the street, you adjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder, purposefully heading towards the dance studio a bit earlier than your usual schedule. It was a deliberate decision; you craved the solitude of an empty studio for a serene warm-up session before the hustle and bustle of the class began. It wasn't that you didn't enjoy dancing with others, but there was a unique allure to early morning practices, where you could move freely without the eyes or judgments of onlookers.
Pushing open the heavy door, you stepped into the quiet foyer, and with determined steps, you made your way down the corridor towards the studio room, your ballet bag slung over your shoulder. However, as you reached the door of the studio, a faint sound caught your attentionâa melody floating through the air. Curiosity piqued, you approached the door, your hand hesitating on the handle.
Standing on your tiptoes, you peered through the small window in the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you. Inside, you saw Copia, moving with effortless grace to the rhythm of the music. He danced alone, his movements fluid and precise, as if lost in his own world. You watched mesmerized, captivated by the beauty of his dance. For a moment, you forgot about your own plans, your own worries, as you became lost in the enchanting spectacle before you.
As the music continued to fill the room, Copia's movements grew increasingly captivating. Mesmerized, you found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from him. Despite having danced together just yesterday, witnessing his solo performance from a distance offered a new perspective. It was a proof of the beauty and skill that he had, a testament to his talent.
Stepping back from the door, a pang of guilt washed over you. Perhaps, like you, Copia also cherished the solitude of early mornings. Maybe he wanted the freedom to dance without any eyes upon him, just as you did. Yet, despite these thoughts, you found it difficult to tear your gaze away from him. Your curiosity and admiration compelled you to watch him just a little while longer, even as you grappled with the guilt of intruding on his private moment.
You returned to your tiptoes, your curiosity outweighing your sense of guilt. You continued to watch Copia, recognizing the steps instantly, the familiarity, as he moved around the studio floor. As you leaned against the door handle, absorbed in watching Copia's performance, a sudden surge of excitement caused your hand to slip, accidentally turning the handle and pushing the door open wider than intended. You stumbled forward, caught off guard by the sudden movement, and found yourself on the threshold of the studio room, peering inside with wide-eyed surprise.
Copia froze mid-step, startled by the unexpected intrusion. âAh!â Copiaâs startled gasp echoed through the room as his movements halted abruptly as he turned to face you, surprise written across his features.
You felt a rush of embarrassment flood through you. "I-I'm so sorry," you stammered, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to interrupt, I was just... I mean, I didn't expect anyone to be here, and I... I didn't mean to open the door like that."
Copiaâs expression softened as he realized your genuine mistake. âNo, no, itâs alright,â he reassured you, stepping closer with a comforting smile. âI just didnât expect anyone to arrive so early either. Are you okay?â
You nodded, still feeling mortified but relieved by his understanding. âY-yes, Iâm fine. Iâll just⊠go... over there... here,â you mumbled, gesturing awkwardly towards the front door.
"No, no," he said, gesturing with his hands. "Per favore, stay."
"Stay?" you repeated, eyebrows raised in surprise.
Copia nodded, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "SĂŹ, stay," he confirmed. "I'd say 'come in' but I think you already did, sĂŹ?" he chuckled slightly.
You slowly nodded. "Okay," you agreed softly. "And, yes... Sorry again."
"Just close the door," he chuckled, gesturing towards it before making his way to turn off the music.
You complied, closing the door with a deep breath, still reeling from the embarrassment of your clumsy entrance. You turned back to him, watching him. "Mr. Copia, I'm deeply sorry."
Copia turned back to you, a gentle smile on his face. "Don't worry about it," he reassured you, his tone warm and understanding, "don't need to apologize."
You nodded, feeling a bit flustered. "But I... I didn't mean to interrupt your... practice."
"It's alright," he said. "You didn't interrupt anything. I wasn't practicing anything, more like a warm up. But, if you allow me to ask... Why you arrived early? Is there any problem?"
You shrugged, trying to downplay your embarrassment. "Just felt like it, I guess. Wanted some quiet time before the class. However, it seems like I'm not the only one who enjoys an early dance warm up."
Copia chuckled. "Heh... SĂŹ, sĂŹ. Though I must admit, I didn't expect an audience this morning."
"I'm sorry, but, it was quite a performance," you commented, nodding towards the empty space where Copia had been dancing.
"Grazie," he replied, his gaze meeting yours. "And you were just watching me, eh?"
You chuckled shyly. "Well, it's not every day I get to see a talented teacher dancing up close."
Copia's smile widened. "That means a lot coming from you."
You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks at his words, but you couldn't help but smile back. "Does it?"
"SĂŹ, of course," he said with a smile as he settled on the floor, gracefully slipping off his ballet slippers. "I told you yesterday, you're very talented, alata ballerina."
"Ala... What?" you chuckled, amused by the unfamiliar term.
"Alata ballerina," he repeated, his gaze meeting yours as he looked up.
"What does it mean?" you inquired, moving closer and sitting down in front of him, setting your bag beside you.
"Eh..." he hesitated, his eyes holding yours for a moment before he averted his gaze. "It's just a nickname," Copia said, a faint blush dusting his cheeks as he avoided your gaze.
You tilted your head, intrigued. âA nickname? For what?â
Copia shrugged, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. âItâs just something I thought it would suits you...â he admitted sheepishly. âIt means⊠um⊠winged ballerina.â
âWinged ballerina?â You repeated.
Copia nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. âIt's fine if you find it cheeky... But for me, It suits you,â he repeated softly.
You couldn't help but smile, feeling a flutter in your stomach at his words. "Well, I like it and it's not cheeky at all," you said softly. "Thank you, Mr. Copia."
He glanced up at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he admitted, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Uh... But, honestly, it just slipped out."
You chuckled softly. âWell, Iâm glad it did,â you replied, returning his smile. âItâs different and it's a lovely nickname. But why 'winged'?â
He glanced away for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Then, he looked back at you, his gaze soft and sincere. âBene, you do have a certain grace and elegance, like a... butterfly,â he said earnestly.
You felt your cheeks flush at his compliment, and you looked down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. âOh...â you giggled timidly.
Copia reached out and gently tilted your chin up, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. âNon essere timida,â he said softly, his eyes searching yours. âAgain, you are very talented.â
You nodded, feeling his fingers delicately tracing along your chin. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you couldn't help but bite your lower lip, a nervous habit that betrayed your embarrassment. You couldnât shake the flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach. His touch was gentle, almost teasing, and yet it sent a wave of warmth coursing through you.
"Thank you, Mr. Copia... again," you said in a voice barely above a whisper.
Copia's hand withdrew from your chin. âMa sto dicendo la veritĂ , watching you dance⊠itâs like witnessing poetry in motion.â
You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment. âPoetry in motion? ThatâsâŠ"
âItâs only the truth,â he insisted, his tone sincere.
Struggling to maintain eye contact, you diverted your gaze to the floor, a shy smile playing on your lips. A laugh, nervous escaped you. âI just do what the music tells me,â you admitted, shrugging slightly.
âAnd that,â Copia started, âis what sets you apart.â His voice was low, intimate.
As you parted your lips to speak, the moment between you was abruptly interrupted by the distant sound of voices from outside the studio. He rose from his seated position with a sense of urgency.
âLooks like the others are starting to arrive,â Copia remarked, glancing towards the door.
He extended a hand towards you. Looking at his hand, you took it, grabbing your bag and standing up. âGuess itâs time to get ready for the class.â
For what felt like a long minute, you both stood there, staring at each other, holding hands. You felt his thumb moving in circles on the back of your hand, a small but intimate gesture that sent a warm feeling through you.
Copia released your hand as the sound of the door handle echoed through the room. One by one, the other dancers started to enter the studio, their cheerful waves directed towards both you and Copia, breaking the spell of the moment between you too.
They moved past you, heading towards the dressing room and for a brief moment, you found yourself alone with Copia again. The air between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken words. But instead of speaking, Copia simply turned his back towards you, a silent end to the conversation that had never truly begun. With a sigh, you turned to follow the others to the dressing room, your heart a filled with confusion and disappointment.
Just as you took a step away, his voice pierced the silence, halting your retreat. "Giulietta," he called out.
You turned back to him, a questioning look on your face. "Yes?"
Copia hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a moment that felt longer than it probably was. "I..." he started, then paused, as if choosing his next words carefully. âYou should hurry,â he finally said, his voice carrying a different weight than what his initial pause had promised. âDonât want to miss the warm-up. Go change.â
You nodded, a soft giggle escaping your lips as you turned away from him and made your way towards the dressing room. Stepping inside, you fell into your daily routine: heading to your locker, stowing your bag, changing into your practice clothes, and retrieving your ballet slippers for another day of rehearsal at the studio.
As you finished dressing, you made your way back out of the dressing room and into the studio. There, you noticed Copia standing with his back to the other dancers, everyone else beginning to gather around.
"Shall we start with the warm-up?" he suggested, turning towards everyone with a gentle smile.
The dance studio hummed with activity as the dancers dispersed across the floor, each finding their own space to begin the warm-up routine. Copia moved among them with a fluid grace as he offered gentle corrections and encouragement. There was a distinct gentleness in his demeanor as he interacted with the others, his voice carrying a soothing tone and an undeniable technique in the way he communicated, it was impossible not to be captivated by his presence.
Your eyes never left him as he glided between the dancers, there was something about Copia, something captivating that drew you in with each step he took. As he drew nearer, you felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, a blend of excitement and apprehension at his proximity. Averting your gaze, you pretended to focus on your stretches, gripping your calf to hold it up high. But as Copia approached, flashing you an approving smile, you lost your balance, stumbling and landing hard on the floor. With a sharp intake of breath, you felt a twinge of pain shoot through your ankle.
Clutching your ankle with both hands, a sharp intake of breath escaping you as pain shot through your limb. "Fuck!" you exclaimed in a hushed tone as you gritted your teeth against the discomfort.
Copia was at your side in an instant, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow as he assessed the situation. "Are you okay?" he inquired, his hand gently resting on top of yours.
You turned your head to meet Copia's gaze, nodding slightly. "Just... a little pain," you managed to reply.
"Do you think you can stand up?" Copia asked, his other hand coming to rest on your back, offering support.
With a deep breath, you nodded in affirmation, determination setting in despite the throbbing ache in your ankle. "Yes, I guess I can," you replied, steeling yourself for the effort it would take to rise to your feet once more.
Copia extended his hand towards you, with a cautious breath, you released your grip on your injured ankle and reached out for his hand, allowing him to gently guide you to your feet. As you shifted your weight onto your injured leg, a sharp jolt of pain shot through your limb, causing you to wince. Instinctively, you tightened your grip on Copia's hand and he pulled you closer to him, his arm encircling your body to steady you. You swallowed nervously, feeling the tension as your chest pressed against his, feeling the warmth of his body enveloping you as he supported you, keeping you upright.
"Are you sure you are fine?" Copia inquired, his concern evident in the gentle touch of his hands as they slid from yours to your arm.
You nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the lingering ache in your ankle. "Yes, yes, I am," you affirmed.
"Come with me," Copia said softly as he turned his body slightly, offering you his arm for support. "To the others, per favore, continue with the warm-up, and once you're all done, I would highly appreciate it if you could start with the practice," he addressed the rest of the dancers, his tone firm yet considerate.
Without hesitation, you leaned into Copia, he wrapped his arm around your waist as he guided you towards the dressing room. With each step, he provided a sense of stability, grounding you amidst the discomfort of your injury. As you reached the door, Copia opened it with a gentle push, allowing you both to enter together. With care, he guided you towards the nearest bench, helping you to lower yourself onto it with a gentle touch.
"Stay here," Copia said softly as he turned his back and walked towards the lockers, disappearing from your sight.
Left alone on the bench, you took a moment to collect your thoughts allowing the tension to seep from your body. How could you have been so easily distracted by him? It didn't make sense. How could you fall during a stretch position you've done countless times before? And all because of a smile? You couldn't shake the feeling of embarrassment over such a simple mistake.
Shaking your head, you chastised yourself for letting your emotions get the best of you. You needed to focus, to regain your composure, and to remember why you were thereâto dance.
"I'm sorry for making you wait," Copia said as he returned, with the first-aid kit in one hand and a bag of ice in the other.
Your gaze traced his figure as he knelt before you. He placed the first-aid kit on the bench beside you and with a sense of calm purpose, Copia reached for the lace of your ballet slippers, his movements deft as he untied them. Gently, Copia lifted your foot onto his thigh, cradling it with care as he began to massage your ankle with a practiced touch. The sensation was both soothing and invigorating, the warmth of his hands working to alleviate the pain that had settled deep within your muscles.
"Does it hurt?" Copia asked, his voice soft with concern as he turned his head to look at you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of discomfort.
You shook your head slightly. "No, it's not hurting."
Copia nodded, his expression thoughtful as he continued to massage your ankle with gentle, rhythmic movements. Despite your best efforts to remain composed, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. Each time your eyes met, a blush crept up your cheeks, betraying your efforts to remain composed.
"Good," he murmured, his attention returning to your ankle as he applied a gentle pressure, his fingers working with precision.
Copia carefully placed the ice bag onto your ankle, the cool sensation providing a welcome relief to the throbbing ache. Rising from the floor, he extended his hand towards you. You accepted it, and he guided you gently, turning you so he could sit beside you. As you settled beside you, he placed your foot on his thigh with care. With a gentle touch, he adjusted the bag to ensure it covered the injured area completely.
"Thank you," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you glanced at him.
Copia met your gaze with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with kindness, "You're welcome. Just relax and let the ice do its work. You'll be back on your feet in no time."
With a nod of acknowledgment, you allowed yourself to relax as Copia retrieved the first-aid kit and placed it on his other thigh. With practiced ease, he opened the kit, his movements methodical as he took stock of its contents. You couldn't help but watch him with a sense of curiosity.
With a gentle smile, Copia glanced up from the kit, meeting your gaze again. "Don't worry," he said softly, his voice calm and steady. "You won't need anything from here, you're taken care of."
âThank you, Mr. Copia," you said with a grateful smile.
Copia returned your smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners with warmth as he replied, âOf course."
You chuckled softly, turning your face to glance at your ankle with the ice bag resting on it. âIâm sorry for causing an injury on your second day,â you remarked.
Copia chuckled in response, shaking his head gently. âDonât be silly,â he said with a reassuring smile. âAccidents happen, and itâs nothing serious. Can you move it for me?"
You shifted your ankle slightly, testing the limits of its mobility, and felt a twinge of pain, but it was bearable, nothing more than a dull ache. "Yes... but it hurts a little."
Copia nodded understandingly, his expression sympathetic as he observed your discomfort. "I see," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I'd recommend resting it for a bit and applying ice. It should help alleviate the pain." He reached for the ice bag, adjusting it once more to ensure it was positioned correctly on your ankle.
You blushed. âThank you for everything... again," you said with a gentle smile.
Copia returned your smile, his eyes sparkling with warmth as he replied, âItâs my pleasure. Iâm glad I could help you.â
The brief pause stretched between you as you both sat in quiet contemplation. Your eyes met Copiaâs, locking in a silent exchange. He gave you a small grin, and you mirrored his smile. For a moment, it felt as though your eyes were engaged in a conversation of their own, though you couldn't quite decipher the message behind his gaze.
Copia averted his gaze from yours clearing his throat, breaking the spell that had enveloped the two of you. With a gentle smile, he rose from the bench, carefully placing your foot on the bench.
âI need to go back,â Copia said, turning to you and adjusting the first-aid kit in his hands. âYou stay here, keep the ice on your ankle, and whenever you feel better, come back to the studio. But for today, I recommend that you just watch. Which, I donât think, is a problem for you.â
âWhat?â you inquired, a hint of frustration in your voice. âOf course itâs a problem. I need to practice too.â
Copia met your gaze with a calm certainty. âFrom what Iâve seen,â he started, his voice gentle yet firm, âI wouldnât be worried if I were you.â
As Copia's words echoed inside your mind, you felt a deep blush creeping into your cheeks, the warmth spreading across your face like wildfire. Unable to meet his gaze, you lowered your head, focusing your attention on your injured ankle. All you could see were Copia's feet in front of you. And then, Copia moved away, disappearing from your view as he walked among the lockers.
You bit your lower lip to contain the wide smile that threatened to tug at the corners of your lips as Copia was already back. He stopped in front of the doorway of the dressing room, turning to you. You felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest, your breath catching in your throat.
âTake care of yourself,â he said softly. "I'll be waiting for you out there."
Copia offered you a reassuring smile before turning to open the door, leaving the dressing room. With the soft click of the door closing echoing through the dressing room, you released your lower lip, allowing yourself to smile freely. You weren't entirely sure of the reason behind your smile, but in that moment, it didn't seem to matter and for a few more minutes, you remained seated in the dressing room.
As the ice from the bag began to melt, you knew it was time to go back. Carefully, you removed the ice from your ankle, feeling a sense of relief as the cool sensation dissipated. Placing your foot on the floor, you gingerly tested your weight on the injured leg feeling only a slight discomfort.
Rising from the bench, you reached for your ballet slippers, securing them tightly to your feet, ensuring they were fastened securely before you prepared to return to the studio. Stepping out of the dressing room, you made your way towards the studio, the sound of music and the sight of dancers in motion drawing you closer.
You stood there for a moment, simply observing the dancers as they moved gracefully across the studio floor. But before you could fully immerse yourself in the scene before you, you felt a hand gently touching your back, causing you to jolt in surprise.
Turning around, your eyes met your fellow Romeo, Anton, a warm smile playing at the corners of their lips. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," they said apologetically.
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "It's alright," you replied.
"I was wondering where you were," they said, their brows furrowing in concern.
"I had a little accident," you replied, gesturing towards your ankle. "So, I was in the dressing room. Why didn't I see you there?"
"I arrived a bit late again, so I just left my bag in the corner and put my slippers on here," they explained, motioning towards the studio entrance. "What kind of accident did you have?"
"Believe me," you sighed, shaking your head, "it was just me losing my balance."
"I believe you," they chuckled softly. "Are you going to practice today?"
You shook your head, a hint of disappointment in your expression. "The new teacher suggested I just watch today," you replied.
As they nodded understandingly, you watched them make their way back to join the other dancers. With a sigh, you turned and walked to the corner of the studio, finding a seat where you could observe the ongoing practice. As your eyes followed the graceful motions of the dancers, suddenly, your attention was drawn to the front of the studio, where Copia had taken command of the class.
You watched intently as Copia demonstrated each step with precision, his movements fluid and graceful. With a few simple gestures, he corrected their posture and technique, offering words of encouragement and guidance along the way. You were captivated by Copia's teaching style, it was almost breathtaking. It was clear that he knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it with a level of mastery that was truly awe-inspiring.
Bringing your legs together, you held them close, wrapping your arms around them as you released a sigh. It was frustrating to be confined to the corner of the studio, relegated to a mere observer while the others practiced under Copia's guidance. But despite the limitations, you found solace in the opportunity to watch, especially him. Your eyes remained fixated on Copia, unable to tear away from his captivating and meticulously coordinated movements.
As you watched him effortlessly glide across the floor, a multitude of questions swirled in your mind. How long had he been dancing? What performances had he choreographed? How many stages had he graced with his presence? How long had he been teaching? And what was it about ballet that he loved so much?
Unable to obtain the answers firsthand and hesitant to ask him directly, you found yourself crafting replies in your mind, imagining what he might say. "Since I was young," he might respond. "The many you can think of," he might continue. "More than I can count," he might add with a smile. "For some years," he might confess. And finally, "The smoothness, the gentleness, and the beauty behind the movements," he might conclude, his voice filled with passion and reverence for the art form.
You couldn't help but chuckle silently, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you pondered what more could you even ask him.
Had dance always been his passion? What drove his creative inspiration? Did he find fulfillment in his role as a ballet teacher? And to those, the replies would likely be affirmative.
Lost in your contemplations as you gazed at him, pondering what his answers might be, you barely noticed as Copia moved away from the dancers, walking backward before turning to reach for his bag, retrieving a bottle from within, then leaned against the wall. His appearance had shifted since he first entered the studio earlier. The once meticulously styled locks of his hair were now slightly disheveled, strands falling across his face in an artfully tousled manner.
There was something about the way his hair fell across his face, the way his breath quickened ever so slightlyâit was mesmerizing, captivating. But just as Copia's eyes seemed to turn in your direction, Anton, your friend from the studio, sidled up beside you, blocking your view. His presence broke the spell, pulling you back to reality with a jolt.
"Hey there!" Anton greeted cheerfully. "What are you thinking of?"
You blinked, momentarily taken aback by his sudden appearance. "Thinking of...?" you replied, momentarily confused. "About what?"
"The dance," Anton clarified, gesturing toward the dancers in the middle of the studio. "I noticed you were watching."
"Oh, right," you nodded, quickly catching on. "Yes, yes, very good."
Anton chuckled, settling himself on the floor beside you. "So, what do you think of the routine?" he asked, his eyes bright with enthusiasm as he watched the dancers in the center of the studio.
"It's impressive," you replied, tearing your gaze away from the dancers to focus on Anton. "They're really giving it their all."
"Yeah, definitely," Anton agreed, nodding in agreement. "I can't wait for our turn to perform as Romeo and Juliet. It's going to be epic."
You smiled. "I know, right? It's going to be incredible."
Anton turned to you, his expression growing more serious. "Hey, how's your ankle feeling?" he asked, his tone filled with genuine concern.
You sighed, shifting slightly to relieve the discomfort in your injured ankle. "It's still a bit sore, but it's manageable."
Anton nodded. "Well, if you're up for it after the class, we could practice our parts together," he suggested. "I don't have anything planned for today, and I'd be more than happy to help you out."
"That would be amazing, Anton," you replied. "Thank you."
Anton grinned, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. "Great! It's a plan, then. But only if you're feeling up to it, of course."
You nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Of course. Let's do it, yeah."
"Alright," Anton said, springing up in a swift motion. "I'll head back there, and you stay here."
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "I don't have anywhere else to be, Anton."
With a wave in your direction, Anton made his way back to the center of the studio, joining the other dancers as they prepared to resume their practice. Left alone once more, you settled back against the wall. However, your solitude didn't last long. Just as Anton vanished among the other dancers, out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of Copia making his way toward you, his steps purposeful but unhurried. Your heart quickened its pace as he drew nearer, prompting you to straighten your posture in an attempt to appear nonchalant, as if his approach hadn't caught your attention.
"How are you feeling?" Copia's voice reached your ears as he stopped beside you, his presence palpable despite your attempt to feign indifference.
"Oh, hi, Mr. Copia," you greeted him with a gentle smile, turning your head to acknowledge him. "I'm fine."
"Are you really?" he inquired, settling down beside you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours.
"Yes, really," you confirmed, mustering a confident smile. "Just a minor mishap, nothing serious."
Copia regarded you for a moment longer, his expression softening. "Good to hear," he said, offering a supportive squeeze to your shoulder before withdrawing his hand.
As you sat together against the wall, a comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the distant sounds of the dancers' movements. Eventually, Copia broke the quiet with a gentle clearing of his throat.
"So, tell me," he began, his tone warm and inviting. "How long have you been dancing?"
"I... I've been dancing since I was a kid," you admitted, feeling a flutter of nerves at the thought of sharing your experiences with him. "What about you?"
Copia chuckled softly. "Likewise," he replied, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. "And how many times have you been on the stage?"
"Since I was a kid? Countless times," you replied with a nervous laugh. "I've lost track, to be honest."
Copia's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise. "Impressive," he remarked, his admiration evident in his expression. "And have you ever had the opportunity to dance as the lead performer?"
You shook your head. "No, this is actually my first time," you confessed, your voice tinged with excitement and apprehension.
Copia's gaze softened with understanding. "I must say, I'm even more impressed than before," he said sincerely. "You're a natural talent."
Your cheeks flushed as you stumbled over your words, feeling a pang of embarrassment at your sudden openness. "T-Thank you," you managed to stammer out. "And you are a very good teacher."
Copia's laughter rang out softly, a warm twinkle in his eyes. "Eh, but I only arrived yesterday," he replied modestly.
"But I saw what you were doing out there, and that was definitely impressive. It feels like you have always been here," you replied, turning your gaze towards the group of dancers. "You showed confidence and passion, and your guidance is so gentle. It's... inspiring."
A gentle smile tugged at the corners of Copia's lips as he listened to your words, his hand finding its way to yours, his touch warm and comforting. "Inspiring...?" he prompted softly, his gaze unwavering as he waited for your response.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you locked eyes with him, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Your pulse thrummed in your ears, you knew you had to say something, but your mind raced.
With a shaky breath, you summoned your courage. "How long have you been teaching?" you managed to ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
Copia's laughter filled the air once more as he ran a hand through his hair, his expression thoughtful. "Hmm, let's see... I believe I started when I was around 25 or 27," he mused.
"Do you enjoy being a teacher?" you inquired, genuine curiosity shining in your eyes.
Copia nodded thoughtfully, a faint smile gracing his lips. "I do," he affirmed. "It's... fulfilling. Inspiring others and helping them grow, it's somehow magical."
"It must be amazing to see your students progress," you remarked.
Copia's expression softened, a hint of pride glinting in his eyes. "Absolutely," he agreed. "Watching them finding their potential is one of the most gratifying feelings in the world of teaching."
"Even when they get hurt?" you pressed, lifting your foot slightly to indicate your sore ankle.
Copia approached you, his touch gentle yet firm as he carefully guided your leg back down. "Even when they get hurt," he affirmed with a nod, his gaze unwavering. "Because is an opportunity for growth, is a chance to learn and become stronger."
As Copia withdrew his hand from your leg, a soft sigh escaped your lips, the absence of his touch leaving a lingering warmth in its wake. Your eyes remained locked on each other's, and you felt a palpable tension building between you. Just as you were about to speak, a dancer's voice pierced the air, calling out for Copia's attention. Reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from yours, shifting his focus to the dancers on the studio floor.
"One minute," Copia responded, addressing the dancer. Then, his attention returned to you, his eyes meeting yours once more. "If you need anything, let me know, sĂŹ?" he added, his tone soft and reassuring.
As Copia placed his hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring grip, you offered a nod. Watching him rise and walk towards the dancer who had called him, you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Closing your eyes briefly, you pondered the strange emotions swirling within you. There was no denying that Copia possessed a certain charm, and his gentle demeanor had undoubtedly left an impression on you. However, as you reflected on the burgeoning connection between the two of you, you couldn't help but wonder why it was happening.
As the class continued, you pushed aside the tentative attempts to find an answer to your swirling emotions. After all, dwelling on it wouldn't provide any concrete answers. Instead, you decided to simply embrace the small excitement bubbling within you.
Despite your efforts to distract yourself by watching Anton practice with the other dancers, you couldnât shake the feeling of someoneâs gaze on you. It was a persistent sensation, tugging at the edge of your consciousness as you focused on the movements before you. Every now and then, you stole a glance in Copiaâs direction, only to find him already looking back at you, offering you a discreet, small smile that sent a flutter through your heart.
With the class neared its end, everyone, including Copia, gathered together, exchanging words of gratitude and encouragement for the day's practice. Despite your inability to participate fully due to your injury, you rose from your spot and made your way over to the group, eager to express your appreciation for the rehearsal.
As the group quieted down, Copia's voice resonated through the studio. "Everyone," he began. "I'd like to express my heartfelt thanks to each and every one of you for welcoming me here today. I'm truly excited to continue guiding you all in the days leading up to our performance."
A round of appreciative applauses rippled through the group as they nodded in agreement. As the applause subsided, you made your way closer to Anton, standing by his side as you both. With a smile, you exchanged a glance with Anton, and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug.
"Heh... Grazie, grazie," Copia's eyes traveled over each dancer in the group, eventually meeting yours. "You're all dismissed," he announced, his tone and demeanor shifting slightly. "We will see each other tomorrow."
With that, the dancers began to disperse, chatting and laughing as they made their way out of the studio. You noticed Copiaâs gaze lingered a little longer on you before he turned toward the corner of the room where his bag was. Anton released you from the side hug and turned to you, a smile still lingering on his lips.
"Need me to grab your bag?" Anton asked, stretching his back and glancing in your direction. "That way, we can head out as soon as we're ready."
"Yeah, that'd be great," you replied gratefully. "Thanks, Anton."
"Sure thing. I'll be back in a second," he said before heading off to the dressing room with the rest of the dancers.
Having spent hours seated in the corner, it was time to redo your warm-up. You turned towards the mirrors, using them not only to guide your stretches but also to keep an eye on Copia as he remained nearby by his bag. As you stretched, your gaze periodically flickered towards Copia, noting his movements as he removed his slippers and set them neatly beside his bag. You couldnât help but admire the way he carried himself, even in such simple actions.
Resolute in your determination to concentrate on your warm-up, you averted your gaze from Copia, ensuring no further distractions could impede your progress. With the memory of your recent injury still vivid in your mind, you couldn't afford to be careless. Instead, you focused intently on your stretching routine, lifting your leg and grasping the palm of your foot to hold it up high, maintaining the pose.
"What are you doing?" Copia's voice broke the silence, drawing your attention to the corner where he stood, already dressed in sweatpants with his bag slung over his shoulder.
You released your foor and turned toward him, momentarily taken aback by his sudden inquiry. "I'm... warming up...?" you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone.
"Warming up?" he echoed, furrowing his brows in confusion.
"Yes," you confirmed, nodding. "I want to practice, even if it's just a little."
Copia approached you, his expression filled with concern. "But what about your ankle?" he pressed, crossing his arms. "Are you sure you're not pushing yourself too hard?"
"I'm not pushing myself too hard, Mr. Copia," you assured him with a soft smile. "I promise I won't practice for too long, but after watching everyone else dancing while I sat in the corner..." You sighed. "I just want to practice a little."
Copia regarded you for a moment, his brows furrowed in concern. "Alright," he relented with a sigh. "But take it easy, okie dokie? Don't overexert yourself."
"Thank you, Mr. Copia. I'll be careful."
Copia took a step back and placed his bag near the mirrors, clasping his hands together. He then returned to where you were standing. "What are you planning to practice?" he inquired.
You chuckled. "I'm thinking maybe something simple."
"Anything specific in mind?" he pressed.
"Well, I was considering the Balcony scene," you confessed.
"The Balcony scene?" he echoed, intrigued. "But that's meant to be performed by a pair."
"I know," you giggled. "Anâ"
Before you could finish your sentence, Copia interjected. "Do you want me to stay? I can practice it with you," he offered. "I'm familiar with Conti's work and the steps. Plus, I can be here to guide you and provide some assistance if you need it because of your ankle."
"Mr. Copiaâ"
Anton interjected you this time as he returned to the studio, carrying your bag on his shoulder. "I'm back, oh, Juliet, I'm sorry for making thee wait," Anton chimed in, playfully mocking you with a Shakespearean flair.
"Ah, Romeo, thou art back," you replied with a grin, matching Anton's playful tone. "Thy tardiness doth not trouble me, for 'tis a pleasure to await thee."
Anton let out a hearty laugh as he set your bag down on the floor and strolled over to where you were, spotting Copia standing nearby. "Ah, Mr. Copia, hey sir! Will you be watching us during our practice?"
Copia hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh... SĂŹ, certainly."
Anton nodded and turned to you, offering his hand with a gallant flourish. You accepted it, allowing him to lead you to the center of the studio. With a graceful twirl, he positioned you facing the mirror, his hands resting gently on your hips as he stood behind you. As your eyes met in the reflection, you couldn't help but notice Copia still lingering in the corner, his gaze averted. A flicker of something passed over his features before he turned and walked closer to the mirrors.
"Do you both need the music?" he inquired, crossing his arms as he stood before you.
"No, I don't think so," Anton replied, glancing down at you for confirmation.
"We're good," you affirmed with a nod.
"Perfetto," Copia declared. "Begin."
Anton's steady hands supported you, guiding your movements as with a gentle push from your leg, you gracefully ascended, floating momentarily in the air before being lowered back to the ground. Anton lead you through steps of the dance, his movements synchronized with yours as you swayed and twirled across the studio floor. With each motion, he held you close, his arms providing both support and stability.
As you lay upon Anton's shoulders, your eyes met Copia's, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of scrutiny in his gaze, as if he were analyzing every step and movement with keen observation. Undeterred, you remained focused. You executed each step with precision and finesse, your movements flowing seamlessly from one to the next. As the dance reached its climax, Anton spun you gracefully, your body moving with effortless grace as you neared the ground.
With a final flourish, Anton gently caught you in his arms. With every encounter, he held you close, lifting you, spinning you, and gently laying you in his arms. You danced with grace and poise, your every motion imbued with emotion as you portrayed Juliet's longing and desire. Each time Anton lifted you, spun you, or held you close, you enacted the chemistry between you two.
As you faced Copia once more, you noticed his unwavering gaze, his eyes following your every move with keen observation. His expression remained unchanged, but you sensed a hint of intrigue in his demeanor as he watched you dance.
When Anton let go of you, you danced around him until you met him again, and he greeted you with a raised hand, spinning you until you slowly leaned over him. However, the sound of a ringing phone suddenly echoed in the studio, breaking the spell of the dance, Anton gently placed you back on the ground and rose from the floor, his attention diverted by the interruption.
"I'm sorry," Anton apologized, walking towards his bag to retrieve his phone from inside.
As Anton answered the call, the studio fell into an eerie silence, the only sound being Anton's voice as he spoke into his phone. You and Copia stole glances at each other, communicating silently through shared expressions. Anton's voice filled the room, muffled yet audible, as he spoke earnestly into the phone, his expression shifting from concern to reassurance and back again. You couldn't help but watch him.
After some minutes, Anton ended the call and hung up the phone. He made his way back to you, his steps purposeful yet gentle. Taking your hands in his, he looked at you with a warm smile.
"I'm sorry about that," he said softly, squeezing your hands reassuringly. "But I'm here now. Shall we continue?"
"Anton, is everything alright?" you asked, concerned.
"Yes," he responded, but then hesitated, shaking his head. "No, actually..."
"It's okay, Anton. We can practice tomorrow," you reassured him.
"But I promised we could do it after class, and if I leave now, I'll feel terrible about it," he explained, looking conflicted.
You giggled, gently releasing his hands and placing yours on his face. "I don't know what's going on, and you don't have to tell me right now. But go, take care of whatever it is."
Anton looked torn, his gaze flickering between you and his bag. "But I don't want to leave you here alone," he protested softly.
You smiled reassuringly, cupping his face in your hands. "I'll be fine, Anton. Whatever it is, it sounds important. Go take care of it, and we'll practice another time."
Reluctantly, Anton nodded. "Thank you," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Anton made his way back to his bag, taking it. Before he left, he gave you a final look and then, walked away. You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, but you knew that his well-being came first. Turning back to Copia, you found him watching you with a thoughtful expression, his eyes reflecting something. With a small smile, you nodded at him.
"I'm sorry for the interruption, Mr. Copia," you apologized, feeling a bit flustered. "You're free to go if you need to."
Copia shook his head as he approached you. "No need to apologize," he reassured you. "How's your ankle holding up?"
Glancing down at your leg, you responded, "It's actually feeling much better. I'm not in any pain."
"Bene," he nodded, then made his way back to his bag. "But I'm afraid I can't leave."
Confused, you asked, "Why not?"
"Because you haven't finished your practice, sĂŹ?" he pointed out.
"No, I haven't," you admitted, feeling confusion and anticipation. "But I'm not... Why?"
Copia settled onto the floor, retrieving his slippers from his bag and slipping them on. Then, he shed his sweatpants, leaving them in a heap on the ground as he approached you. Your cheeks flushed with warmth, feeling a nervous excitement building within you as he stood before you, extending his hand.
"Should we finish the dance," he began, his voice soft. "Giulietta?"
With a hesitant nod, you extended your hand towards him. Copia, with a gentle smile, knelt before you, taking your hand in his with a tender grip. His eyes met yours and you gracefully began to move around him, your movements fluid. As you completed the circle and faced him once more, you lifted your leg slowly, trusting in Copia's firm hold on your hand.
Turning away from him, you felt Copia's hands finding your waist, guiding you with a gentle yet assured touch. Together, you both arched your backs, moving in perfect synchrony. With a smooth twirl, Copia brought you back to face him, and you leaned in.
As you leaned closer, you could feel the warmth of Copia's body. Your faces were mere inches apart until Copia gently pulled you back, maintaining a delicate distance between you. You posed momentarily before starting to lean your body onto his again, your faces meeting once more.
With each movement, the tension between you grew palpable, and the chemistry between you and Copia started to be undeniable. As he pulled you took a step back, feeling his fingertips trail from your waist to your thighs. Copia rose to his feet, reaching out for your hand as he began to walk backward. With a small jump, you allowed him to catch you, twirling with you in his arms before gently setting you back on the floor.
Your heart raced as you anticipated the next part. With Copia coming after you, you extended your arm behind you, feeling his grasp on your hand as he closed the distance between you.
As his hand found your waist, he pulled you closer, your eyes locking in a silent exchange. Copia's face drew nearer, and you held your breath, knowing that the moment of the kiss was imminent. Your heartbeat quickened as he leaned in, but instead of closing the gap, he lingered mere inches from your lips, his touch light as he pressed his fingers over your skin.
With a gentle twirl, he shifted his hand from your waist to the back of your head, his gaze wavering between your lips and your eyes. Surrendering to the pull of his embrace, you leaned back, trusting in the strength of his hold. As he drew his face nearer to yours, every nerve in your body alive with the electric thrill of proximity. Copia's presence enveloped you, the tension between you grew. But before the tension could reach its peak before he finally released you, allowing you to step away.
As Copia stood there, a brief silence enveloped the studio. Slowly, you began to step away from him, your eyes locked in a poignant exchange. In that moment, you felt a deep resonance with Juliet, longing to return to the embrace of Romeo. With each step you took, the distance between you widened, yet the connection remained palpable. You couldn't tear your gaze away from his, the intensity of the moment holding you captive. It was as if time stood still, suspended in the space between you.
Feeling the cool surface of the wall against your back, you took a moment to catch your breath, your chest rising and falling with each rapid inhalation. Beside you, Copia mirrored your stance, his own breathing mirroring the rhythm of yours as you both stood in silent.
With a deep exhale, you tore your gaze away from Copia, letting your eyes drift upward to the ceiling. When you returned your gaze to Copia, you found him already at his bag, slipping off his slippers. Taking a cue from him, you made your way to your own bag, retrieving your belongings and beginning to dress in silence.
As you finished dressing, you slung your bag over your shoulder and made your way towards the door. You both reached the door simultaneously, causing him to look at you with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. With a graceful gesture, Copia pushed the door open and gestured for you to pass through first.
You exchanged a nod of acknowledgment with Copia as you stepped out of the studio, feeling his presence beside you. He closed the door behind you and turned the key, ensuring it was securely locked. With a shared glance, you both began to walk, the echoes of your footsteps filling the quiet space.
"Eh," he began, "You are... talented. Very talented."
"Thank you," you replied, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Coming from you, that means a lot."
Copia scratched the back of his head, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "Well, I mean it," he said softly. "You have a natural grace, a real talent."
You smiled, feeling your cheeks flush in response. "I appreciate that, really."
Copia shifted slightly, his gaze momentarily flickering away before returning to meet yours. "I, uh, enjoyed dancing with you," he admitted, his tone tinged with a hint of shyness.
"I did too," you confessed, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Youâre an incredible partner and you're very talented too, Mr. Copia."
A faint blush dusted Copiaâs cheeks as he nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Iâm glad to hear that," he murmured.
As you both approached the front door of the studio, a brief pause ensued, each of you hesitating, unsure of who should open the door first to exit.
Copia cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Well, uh, I should get going," he said, shifting his weight slightly.
"Yeah, me too," you agreed.
Copia offered you a warm smile before graciously opening the door, allowing you to exit first. As you stepped outside, he followed closely behind, holding the door until you were safely out. A nod and a small wave were exchanged between you before he turned to leave. You watched him go, a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in your mind. Suddenly, Copia paused and glanced back over his shoulder, catching your gaze. With a final wave, he bid you farewell before continuing on his way. You returned the gesture before hurrying off in the opposite direction.
Grammar
Ciao, buonasera a tutti - Hello, good evening everyone
Magia - Magic
Energia - Energy
Non c'Ăš bisogno di preoccuparsi - There's no need to worry
Romeo e Giulietta, sĂŹ? - Romeo and Juliet, yes?
Tuttavia - However
Perfetto - Perfect
Molto Bene - Very well
Eccellente - Excellent
Giulietta - Juliet
Piacere di conoscerti - Nice to meet you
Per favore - Please
Bene - Well
Va bene, tutti - Okay, everyone
Grazie - Thank you
Bellissima - Very beautiful
Sono impressionato - I am impressed
Procediamo - Let's proceed
Bravissimi, tutti - Very well done, everyone
Magnifico - Magnificent
Bravi, tutti - Well done, everyone
Bravissimi tutti! Ci vediamo domani - Very well done, everyone! See you tomorrow
Hi there! Thereâs been an unfortunate increase in negativity in the tumblr fandom, so Iâm trying to be a bright spot as best as I can. Please remember that you are adored, cherished, and people are delighted to see you on their dashboard. You are a beloved part of this community, no matter what anyone else says. You are worthy of every ounce of love, kindness, and compassion that you are given <3-Creature anon
List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers đ€đ€
5 things that makes me happy? Oh, I do have the answer for that, I guess, but to be fair... I'm very boring when it comes by what makes me happy.
Museum, I love to go out and go to museums. I like to walk around and see every piece of art, I don't know, I always felt like this connection with art. Art is one of the best ways to express yourself in my opinion, it has a message, it has a reason, it can bring a feeling and it can create point of views. I really do appreciate my time going to museums.
Music, because I can't imagine my life without it. I love to listen to music to the point every single day of my life, I HAVE to listen to something. Ghost or not, I just need to listen to some music (normally is Ghost, Frank Zappa, The Cure, The Damned, David Bowie...);
Drawing, is a little therapy for me. Even when it's stressful, I get full immersed and I forget about things and I put my earphones and I just do it;
Writing, is just something I love and I'll always love I guess, even when I'm not doing it I feel like I need to do it which sometimes is bad because I'm so busy that I get sad for not being able to do it;
Eat my favorite food, especially if I'm the one cooking it. Pasta, in every way, just amazing. I love pasta!
Thank you a lot for sending me it, I guess I just had to write down without explaining it but, yeah.
Look at him ! Isn't he the cutest? He was made for those strawberry pink shirts! He looks so adorable wearing it, I'm glad he had his turn to wear it because it fits him so well !
I know I've said multiple times that pink is Terzo's color but, Copia with pink shirt? Please, it's adorable.
Thank you for doing it, my dear. As I've said a lot of times: I'll never thank you enough for doing that.
spring look for Terzo and Omega just dropped! đđ
I can't thank @bupia enough for being my source of inspiration in making the strawberry shirt Terzo wore in their work. I immediately fell in love. I had to make it. I ran into some trouble finding the right printed fabric though. So, as a last resort, I painted the strawberries myself.đ Worth it!!
I think I'll never thank you enough for this. It means so much to me to see that my art could inspire someone who inspires me.
It's amazing to see it gaining life, especially by the hands of someone talented and amazing as you. You put a lot of work on it and I really appreciate it, especially to know you painted the strawberries one by one!!!!!
Thank you so much for doing it and well, Terzo looks cute as hell (heh)! Pink is definitely his color and I'm happy that Omega made him some company with his cute Cherry Shirt!
Hello!! Iâm sorry itâs taken a bit to get back to this, but happy new year! You are a bright light to many, and everyoneâs lives are better because you are part of it :) I hope your new year is filled with so much joy and love that you canât help but trip over it all <3-Creature anon
Hello! Maybe I took a long time to reply to this but it's just because my life have been occupied to the extreme to be honest.
But as always, thank you. Thank you so much for those messages, it means a lot to get those. I hope you have a wonderful week and an amazing year! đ«
Silent bonds: Papa Emeritus II x AFAB!Reader (4 Chapters in 1 Post)
Summary: You and Secondo have shared a lasting friendship since he became the Papa Emeritus II. As he immerses himself in preparations for an impending date, latent feelings begin to surface, raising the question of whether your relationship can evolve beyond friendship.
Words: 26.401
Warnings: Light Angst (insecurity) | Fluff | Smut (teasing; cunnilingus; fingering; oral sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Italian swearing | Swearing | Reader is described as AFAB, but "Deacon" is used as Gender Neutral term.
Available on AO3 divided by 4 Chapters
A rhythmic knock resonated through the door connecting your office to the Papa's, drawing your attention away from the papers on your desk. Given the hour, it wasn't unexpected for him to seek you out for more tasks or discussions. With a deep breath, you acknowledged the familiar sound with a smile, allowing yourself a brief stretch to ease the tension in your back and eyes.
"Enter," you uttered, rising from your chair.
Upon the door's creaking open, he peered into your cabinet, scanning the space until his eyes rested on you. Secondo, the Papa Emeritus II from the Ministry where you worked as a Deacon, had been a close friend for many years. While others might find the idea of being friends with Secondo peculiar, you saw nothing odd about it. Being his friend wasn't strange; it was a privilege. Secondo was sweet, funny, caring, a bit of a teaser, and remarkably intelligent. People often mistook him for someone serious, devoid of humor, or as someone who seldom smiled, but you knew better. The Secondo you were friends with was far from those misconceptions.
Yet, today, something felt different. Typically, a smile would grace his lips when his eyes met yours upon entering your cabinet. As he stepped inside, you circled your table, coming to a stop with one hand on the desk and the other on your waist, observing him approaching. Without a word, he slumped into one of the chairs facing your desk. A silent chuckle escaped you as you turned towards him. No words were necessary; a tilt of your head conveyed the inquiry, prompting him to throw his head back in annoyance, the frustration evident in the sound he made.
"So...?" A soft chuckle escaped you as you playfully nudged his calf with your foot, prompting him to lift his head and meet your gaze.
Secondo settled more comfortably into the chair, offering you a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I won't forgive you for not showing up," he muttered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.
You gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your chest. "How dare you?"
"No, how dare you not come," he retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Someone has to do the important work," you teased, smirking.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "And I suppose that someone is you, sĂŹ?"
You grinned, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps," he repeated with a nod.
You leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing your arms. "How was the lunch?"
"Same as usual, Deacon. Endless discussions about the future of the Ministry. Nothing out of the ordinary," he sighed.
"And what about the Clergy today?"
"The Clergy... quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini," he grumbled, frustration etching lines on his face. "You really can't keep skipping the lunch meetings."
A defiant smirk played on your lips as you replied, "Oh, I can, and I will. None of them can utter a single objection, and I'll make sure of it."
Secondo's lips curled into a wry smile, a certain amusement glinting in his eyes as he listened to your words. It reminded you of the times he had praised your steadfast demeanor, expressing his admiration for how you refused to be intimidated, especially by the imposing figures of the Clergy. He had commended your ability to wield your authority confidently, acknowledging the power you held and the way you wielded it.
"Your defiance is a rare trait," Secondo remarked, his tone a mix of approval and amusement.
You chuckled, appreciating Secondo's words. "Well, I learned from the best," you quipped, giving him a sly look.
Secondo's laughter resonated, and he nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze to a distant corner, his eyes taking on a contemplative expression as if lost in thought. "Ah!" Secondo exclaimed, a sudden realization lighting up his features.
"What!?"
Rising from the chair, Secondo turned toward the door. "Follow me to my office."
Following Secondo, you walked toward the door linking your cabinet to his office. As the Deacon of the Ministry, your closer collaboration with him was an unspoken privilege. However, he'd never admit to such favoritism, even to you. Your role as a Deacon involved working closely with higher-ranking members, including the Papa Emeritus, to implement organizational goals and initiatives.
Your role within the Ministry was multifaceted, blending administrative prowess with a deep understanding of the sacred rituals and traditions. Your responsibilities extended beyond mere paperwork, delving into the intricacies of maintaining the Ministry's sanctity and efficiency. With each document meticulously scrutinized, you ensured that the delicate balance between tradition and progress was upheld. Your work bore the weight of the Ministry's legacy, and you navigated through the bureaucracy with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.
At least, that was the explanation Secondo would offer to anyone questioning potential privileges, underlining the professional nature of your connection.
Reaching for the door, Secondo stood beside it, gesturing for you to enter his office. With a nod of gratitude, you stepped inside, and he followed, leaving the door ajar. Moving from behind you, Secondo approached his desk, while you stood closer to the door, observing him as he sifted through folders atop his desk.
"More work for me?" you inquired with curiosity.
"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I need you to wrap up those files for the upcoming ritual."
"Oh!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to his desk, hands tucked behind your back. "Of course, Papa."
"We've talked about this; stop calling me Papa," he said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "Papa is reserved for public moments. You know I'm fine with you using my name when it's just us, as we always have."
"Alright," you said, bringing your hands to rest on his desk, leaning slightly. "Se-con-do," you playfully spelled out his name, causing him to huff, and you suppressed a silent giggle.
"That's better," he said, extending a folder towards you.
"Is it?" you asked, with a mocking tone.
"The folder," he reminded, gesturing with the document in his hand.
"For when do you need those?" you inquired, your fingers lightly tapping on the edge of his desk.
"Tonight would be ideal," he said, glancing up at you. "We need everything in order before the Clergy starts poking their noses where they don't belong."
"I'll ensure everything is organized," you started. "But, can't it be for tomorrow morning, Papa?"
"Pasticcina..." he uttered your nickname with a serious tone. He didn't use it often, but when he did, there were hidden meanings, and you had grown accustomed to interpreting them based on the tone he employed.
"Fine," you replied, turning your back and making your way back to your cabinet. The sound of him clearing his throat halted your steps, prompting you to turn back. "Yes?"
He met your gaze. "I know you'll finish those tonight. If there's someone who can do it, that one is you, sĂŹ?"
You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, Pa-pa," you lingered on his title, relishing the pronunciation, before stepping back into your cabinet and closing the door behind you.
You returned to your desk, knowing that the remainder of the afternoon would be consumed by the documents from the folder he had given you. Yet, it was within the scope of your duties at the Ministry, so there was no room for complaints. Besides, you were assisting a friend, and that fact alone made the task more bearable.
Placing the folder on your desk, you sighed as you glanced at the other ones you had already started reading and organizing. It promised to be a long afternoon. With a deliberate exhale, you settled into your chair, redirecting your attention to the documents you were checking before Secondo entered your cabinet. Determination fueled your focus as you aimed to complete them before tackling the new files he had entrusted to you.
As the hours passed, the ambient light in your office shifted from the warm glow of the afternoon to the subdued hues of evening. The rhythmic tick of the clock on your wall was a steady companion as you delved into the complexities of your tasks. Lost in the labyrinth of paperwork, you were only stirred by the soft knock on your door linked to Secondo's office.
You raised your head to look at the door, and the realization that night had settled outside your window dawned upon you. You sighed, feeling the strain in your shoulders, and stretched your back, the subtle crackle providing momentary relief, before rubbing your eyes.
"Come in," you said with a tired voice, followed by a yawn.
As the door opened, Secondo stepped inside, his discerning eyes catching the subtle signs of your diligence. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair. You noticed he had already discarded his Papa robes, now wearing only his customary full black outfit underneath. Like you, his expression, though obscured by the skull face paint, hinted at weariness.
Closing the door behind him, Secondo made his way to your desk, and your eyes followed his steps through the cabinet until he reached for the chair he had occupied earlier that afternoon. With a deep breath, he settled into the seat.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers.
"Just a momentary break," you replied, offering a weary but genuine smile.
Secondo reached for the folders on your desk, his fingers tracing the edges as he inquired, "Did you manage to finish it?"
"I did," you replied, a note of accomplishment in your voice. "Not only that, but I also finished the files you handed me this morning," you held out the organized folders, presenting them to Secondo.
His eyes narrowed slightly, with surprise and approval. "Impressionante," he remarked, taking the folders from you and deftly opening one to inspect the documents.
"It's my duty, Secondo," you responded.
He hummed in appreciation. "Can I ask you one more thing before you go?" Secondo's gaze met yours, a request lingering in his eyes.
You nodded.
"Would you..." His words trailed off as he diverted his gaze for a moment, a subtle hint of hesitation tainting his expression.
"Assist you with a new speech for the ritual?" you asked.
"No, I..." he started and sighed. "I have a date," he casually revealed.
"What?" your voice betrayed with surprise and disbelief. "When?"
"In some few days," Secondo sighed, his gaze momentarily distant as if contemplating his own decision. "I decided to... try something different," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of mystery and a hint of reluctance.
You arched an eyebrow, sensing the unusual weight behind his words. "Different? A date?" you teased.
"It's not a usual occurrence for me, as you well know," he grunted, a faint annoyance lingering in his expression. "Call it a whim, if you will. Just don't make it more than it is," Secondo glanced at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a dinner."
"Just dinner?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "You're being unusually vague, Secondo."
He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "I don't want to overthink it. It's just dinner, nothing more."
You tilted your head, studying him. "What did you need my help with?" you inquired.
He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling his sleeves up with a nonchalant air. "I just need some advice on conversation topics, maybe some dating tips; for now," he explained, a touch of vulnerability beneath his usual composed demeanor.
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "The great Secondo, seeking dating advice? Now, that's new."
He shot you a deadpan look, unamused. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just an experiment."
You chuckled. "Experiment or not, I'm honored to be the dating consultant for Papa Emeritus II. So, tell me about the details. Who's the lucky person?"
He hesitated for a moment before revealing, "It's someone from the Ministry."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Do I know them?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter," Secondo looked at you, a subtle intensity in his eyes.
"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "Sure, we can practice, but your level of commitment for what you call 'just dinner' is certainly something else."
He leaned against your desk, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "Are you testing me?"
"Not at all. I wouldn't dare to test the almighty, the unholiest Papa Emeritus II," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.
He chuckled, a low hum following suit. "So, any suggestions for romantic conversation topics?"
You thought for a moment, tapping your fingers on the desk. "Well, what do you enjoy doing? Talk about your interests, and see if you have any common hobbies. You know, things you're passionate about."
He leaned back, considering your words. "Like what?"
"Secondo," you giggled. "You really never had been on a proper date?"
"I had some dates in the past," he admitted.
"I meant a proper one, with more talk than moans," you teased.
"Maybe not that many, then," he conceded with a smirk. "I just need some practice."
You chuckled at his response. "Alright, let's practice. Pretend I'm your date. Talk to me about something you're genuinely interested in."
He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabinet as if searching for inspiration. "I... well, I appreciate... Satanism."
"That's a start," you encouraged. "But, considering I already know your role as Papa in a Satanic Ministry, let's try something else, shall we?"
He huffed, crossing his arms. âI also have a passion for cooking.â
"Do you!?" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"
"Perhaps because we've never been on a date?" he teased, a subtle smile gracing the corner of his lips.
"Very funny, Secondo," you retorted. "What do you enjoy cooking?"
He pondered for a moment. "My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger, back before I moved here to the Ministry. So, in the days before I came to live here with my father, Primo and Terzo, she would prepare and teach me the recipes from her homeland. But, as you already know, since we used to live in Italy, she always found a way to blend both cuisines into one. So the short answer would be that I enjoy cook everything my mom taught me."
You listened attentively, nodding. "That's cuâbetter!" you quickly corrected yourself. "What more about you would you like to share?"
"I enjoy literature as well," he relaxed his posture, his arms uncrossed. "Particularly when it delves into the darker facets of human nature."
"That's interesting," you smiled at him.
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.
You nodded in affirmation, mirroring his head tilt. "Which authors do you like?"
His eyes rolled upward in contemplation before returning to meet yours, locking gazes. "Lately, I've delved into 'The Masque of the Red Death' by Edgar Allan Poe."
You leaned in a bit, your eyes searching his. "And what is it about?" The question hung in the air, almost a murmur.
Secondo, responding to your intrigue, moved closer to your desk, resting his arms on it. "Mortality, decadence, and the inevitability of death."
Your eyes held his, and a subtle smile played on your lips. "It suits your taste, doesn't it?" The words slipped from your lips almost playfully.
For a moment, a silent exchange lingered between you, both locked in a gaze that held a subtle dance of unspoken sentiments. The back-and-forth felt almost automatic, a flow of words and glances that hung in the air. However, as the silence stretched, you broke the connection, blinking slowly and shifting your gaze to another corner of the room. The unspoken tension lingered, suspended in the quiet space between you.
"Now, should I ask you about your interests?" he asked, his gaze focused on you.
You leaned back, considering his question with a playful glint in your eyes. "Yes, feel free to ask."
He chuckled, a genuine warmth in his tone. "Molto bene, pasticcina... what are your passions?"
You smirked, playing along. "Well, I also have an appreciation for Satanism, though I suppose you know."
He chuckled. "Indeed, pasticcina. What more?"
You continued the playful practice, seamlessly transitioning from the hypothetical to the personal. As you delved into the conversation, Secondo surprised you with his genuine curiosity. He asked about your favorite dishes, the kind of music you liked, and even your preferred getaway destinations.
You found yourself opening up about your passions and quirks. Surprisingly, Secondo's interest wasn't feigned; he listened attentively, occasionally sharing his own preferences. A long time ago, you noticed that he genuinely enjoyed moments when you would talk at length, silently absorbing your words. And according to him, listening to you was a way for him to relax after a stressful or long day. It felt as if Secondo was peeling away the layers of formality, revealing a more personal side that you rarely glimpsed. His responses were not mere nods or brief acknowledgments; instead, he engaged with a genuine interest that touched your heart.
As you spoke, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in Secondo's gaze. His eyes, usually carrying a weight of responsibilities and authority, softened into a more tender expression. It was as if, in this moment, the roles that defined your relationship were momentarily set aside, allowing a deeper connection to emerge.
"Ok, my time now! Whatâs your favorite memory from when you moved here?" you asked, resting your face on your hand as you stared at him.
"Favorite memory?" Secondo mused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I used to sneak into the Chapel for late-night fake rituals with Terzo. We used to explore the rooms behind the Chapel."
Intrigued, you leaned forward. "Rooms? Behind the Chapel?"
He grinned, revealing a glimpse of mischief. "We would sneak around after official hours, inventing stories about rituals we'd perform once we became Papa Emeritus."
You chuckled, "Did you three ever get caught?"
"More times than weâd like to admit," he admitted with a laugh.
"Who would've thought you were a rebel in your youth," you teased, pointing playfully at Secondo.
He responded with a sly smile, reaching for your hand and lightly touching his index finger to the one you were pointing at him. "There are probably some things you don't know about me, pasticcina."
A warmth spread through you, and you pulled away your finger, shaking your head with a slight blush. "I bet I don't. After all, I just discovered today that you can cook!'"
Secondo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes locked with yours. "A well-hidden talent, wouldn't you say? Maybe I have more surprises up my sleeves."
You couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I'm intrigued."
He leaned in as well, the desk between you feeling like an invisible boundary. "Are you, pasticcina?"
"Very much. Why? Shouldn't I?" you asked with a playful glint in your eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, sĂŹ? Or maybe I can, as the Papa."
You laughed at his words and shook your head. "Yes, you're the Papa. And you're not my boss, so technically, you can't dictate my actions. Though, I must admit, sometimes you seem to believe otherwise," you added, flashing him a sweet smile.
"Pasticcina, you're forgetting that I'm Papa Emerius II of this Ministry. So, yes, technically, I'm the boss," he said, crossing his legs.
"Well, Papa Emeritus II, even if you're the boss you've always respected my autonomy. So I guess that's the reason we get along so well," you teased, giving him a knowing look.
He smirked, the twinkle of mischief present in his eyes. "You're right, I could never bring myself to dictate your actions. That's not something I desire. Especially in our circumstances."
"Our circumstances?" you laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. "Any more hidden talents or skills you're keeping from me?"
Secondo's gaze intensified, and he leaned even closer. "Maybe you need to find out for yourself. I could surprise you one of these days."
You leaned back, feigning casualness, yet your eyes didn't leave his. "Surprises, huh? Maybe I also have a few tricks up my sleeve as well."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Do you?"
"Maybe," you admitted with a playful smile.
"Will you share them with me?"
"Absolutely not," you responded, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Just like you, I'll keep my mysteries hidden," you pointed a playful finger at him. "But, I just hope that one day, I'll understand your enigmas."
He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I doubt you'll unravel all my mysteries. Some are meant to be kept, sĂŹ?" Secondo chuckled, rising from the chair with the folders in hand. "Grazie for practicing with me."
"Are we finished already?" you questioned, giving him a certain look. You didn't want this brief exchange between the two of you to come to an end.
"SĂŹ, we are," he nodded in confirmation, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"Well, in that case, no need to thank me; I'm here for it," you reassured him, a genuine warmth evident in your tone. "We're friends, after all."
"You should go now, rest. It's late," he said, stretching his back.
You stood up from your chair, your gaze locked with his. "What about you?"
"I'll place these in the archives and then head to my chambers," he explained.
"Do you want me to come with you?" you offered, circling your table to stand by his side.
Secondo turned to face you, a gentle smile on his lips as he shook his head. Placing his hand on your cheek, he said, "I won't ask for more favors today. Go, rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." His touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.
"Fine," you huffed playfully. "But don't overwork."
"I won't, I promise," he replied, his eyes holding a sincerity.
You nodded, looking at him. Your eyes remained locked, holding onto each other's gaze. There was a peculiar intensity in the air, as if an unspoken connection lingered between you two.
"Before you leave," he said, stepping closer to you. "I do have a question."
"Well, it seems there's more for me tonight," you teased, chuckling. "Ask away."
"Just one question," he replied. "Let's imagine this is our first day together, you know, as my date," he said nervously. "How should I go about things at the end?"
"Well, it all depends on how the date goes," you responded with a thoughtful smile. "What happens next, really depends on the person you're with. Some might appreciate a goodnight kiss, while others might prefer a more reserved end to the evening. Best to gauge their preferences and perhaps just ask." You couldn't resist teasing him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now, if by 'ending the night' you're referring to something more... intimate," you paused, a sly grin forming, "well, that also depends, Secondo. It's mostly up to your partner's comfort and desires. If they're up for it, great. If not, you might want to exercise a bit more patience and wait for the right moment."
Secondo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, that's not what I was getting at," he clarified. "I'm not... thinking about anything too intimate for the first date. I just want to make sure I don't mess up the next steps. I'd like the date to be successful and maybe open the door for a second one."
You couldn't help but laugh at the misunderstanding. "Got it. It's always good to clarify these things. In that case, just be genuine, attentive, and considerate. If the connection is there, everything else will naturally fall into place."
Secondo nodded appreciatively. "Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo."
You grinned, offering a playful wink. "Exactly. And remember, if the date is going well, you'll sense it. If there's a good connection, you might even feel a spark. Just be yourself, and it'll all work out."
He smiled in response. "Grazie. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should let you go. Don't want to keep you from your evening plans."
"Evening plans?" you chuckled. "More like bedtime plans. I just need to sle..."
Your words trailed off as Secondo delicately took hold of your hand, drawing it closer to his face. He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of it, his lips brushing smoothly, and his nose causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. Secondo released your hand and raised his face to look at you again.
"Hope you have a good night," he whispered in a low, rough tone.
You nodded and you turned to leave, for some reason, you weren't feeling inclined to leave him tonight, prompting you to force yourself to look away. Giving him a warm smile, you made your way to the front door of your cabinet, opening it. You turned to face him for a last time and waved, a strange pull tugged at something inside you. Yet, without hesitating anymore, you left your cabinet, closing the door behind you. The corridor outside seemed quieter, the echoes of your footsteps resonating as you walked away. The night held a hint of something you couldn't figure out, but you pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the need for rest. Tomorrow would bring a new day.
The morning found you in the meeting room, surrounded by the table filled with members of the Clergy. Secondo occupied the central chair, presiding over the gathering. Annoyance lingered in the air, exacerbated by the early hour that seemed unfit for such deliberations. Yet, there you were, seated in your chair, contemplating the tedious proceedings. It was too early for such matters, and the weight of the Clergy's expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders. Despite the internal discontent, you maintained a composed exterior.
"How about we add a dance routine to the ritual, spice things up a bit?" one of the counselors inquired.
Secondo raised an eyebrow. "We're not putting on a show; it's a sacred ritual, not a ballroom."
"How about we all don hooded robes?" the Magister suggested, his tone edged with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"Are you aspiring to be one of my ghouls?" Secondo questioned with a stern undertone, tapping his fingers on the table's surface.
"No, Papa. I apologize," the Magister replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.
Secondo sighed, his demeanor maintaining seriousness. "This is not a celebration; we strive for solemnity and reverence." He then turned to you. "Deacon, any suggestions?"
"Uh...How about we emphasize the significance of sin and purpose? You can give a solemn speech about it," you spoke with conviction, "Also, what about a ritualistic chant? A collective recitation to honor our Dark Lord."
Secondo stared at you for a moment in silence, then nodded approvingly. "A return to our traditions. I appreciate it, Deacon. Let's proceed with that direction, we need a ritual that aligns with our satanic traditions."
The members of the Clergy grumbled, but Secondo's decision remained unyielding. After all, he held the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus. While there were murmurs of discontent, there was an understanding that his word carried undeniable weight. Somehow, it felt like as if being part of the Clergy and his friend, provided a unique privilege, granting you proximity to Secondo's decisions and shaping the path of the Ministry.
Beyond the friendship you shared with Secondo, which allowed you to know him on a personal level, your role as his Deacon gave you insight into his vision for the Ministry. This deeper understanding empowered you to offer suggestions that aligned with his aspirations, making your contributions more impactful.
In other words, you knew him.
As the members of the Clergy dispersed at his dismissal, Secondo remained seated in his chair, and you in yours, waiting until the last member exited the door. A noticeable sigh escaped Secondo's lips, echoing in the now empty room. Amused, you turned your face towards him and couldn't help but giggle.
You gracefully rose from your chair and made your way towards Secondo. His eyes followed your movements until you stopped by his side, sitting on the table next to him.
"Rough morning?" you asked, studying Secondo.
"Hooded robes? That's the pinnacle of ideas for the meeting?" Another sigh, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.
You couldn't stifle a chuckle at his exasperated expression. "Well, he did make an attempt, didn't he?"
"That was an attempt?" he retorted with a huffed chuckle.
"Secondo..."
"Mi dispiace," Secondo conceded, rubbing his brows with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "It's just frustrating sometimes."
You shifted closer. âI get it. The hooded robes suggestion was a bit out there.â
He sighed, turning his gaze to the door. âItâs like theyâre trying to outdo each other.â
âWell,â you chuckled, âat least it keeps things interesting.â
"What do you mean?" Secondo inquired.
"I meant that," you sighed, shaking your head. "Come on, Secondo, early morning meetings? It's practically an invitation for absurd suggestions."
He chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You have a point, Deacon."
You joined in the laughter. "Maybe we should schedule meetings in the afternoon. Avoid the pre-dawn eccentricities."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to spare me from hooded robe discussions?"
"Consider it a small act of mercy," you replied with a smirk.
Secondo chuckled silently, turning his eyes back to you, locking gazes. For a moment, you two just stared at each other. A warm smile crossed your face, and he quickly averted his gaze, rising from his chair. As he did, you gracefully slid from the table to the floor, observing him as he put his mitra back on his head.
âBack to the usual, I suppose,â Secondo remarked, adjusting his mitra.
You rose to your feet, a playful glint in your eyes. âThe Ministry awaits for their unholiest Eminence, Papa Emeritus II.â
"Did you mean the Paper work?" He smirked, gesturing towards the door. âShall we return to the office, Deacon? Thereâs more work to be done.â
You nodded, following him out of the meeting room. Secondo opened the door, allowing you to exit first, and then followed behind. The way back to his office and your cabinet was accompanied by a comfortable silence. The quiet corridors, still untouched by the bustling activities of the day, provided a serene atmosphere.
As you both walked together, your steps in perfect rhythm, a tranquil ambiance enveloped you. The morningâs hushed stillness allowed for reflection, interrupted only by occasional sounds echoing through the hallways. You sensed Secondoâs gaze on you at times, hinting at unspoken thoughts, yet you chose to ignore it, maintaining the quiet companionship between you two.
Reaching his office door, you placed a hand on his back, tapping your fingers in a silent farewell. As you slid your hand away, moving towards the door of your cabinet without looking back, Secondo surprised you by reaching for your wrist. You stopped, turning to meet his gaze.
With a subtle gesture of his head towards the door of his office, Secondo's unspoken invitation was clear. You nodded, and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand, holding it gently. Together, you walked into his office, and he closed the door behind you.
"What's going on, Secondo?" you inquired, a genuine tone of concern in your voice.
He turned towards you, still holding your hand. "Nothing, just wanted to discuss something before we dive into our daily tasks."
"Ah!" you exclaimed, relief evident in your voice. "All the silence and mysterious gestures... You scared me!" You chuckled, but the humor faded as you felt the grip of his hand tighten.
"I apologize, pasticcina," he said, releasing your hand. "It's nothing important; no need to worry. But I was thinking, after work, would you like to join me for dinner?"
"A dinner?" you raised a questioning brow. "Why?"
He moved to his desk, glancing away from you. "Yesterday, after you left, I started to ask myself about my plans for the date. I might admit I felt a bit pressured to decide without seeking an opinion, so I thought that meeting in my chambers for dinner would be more intimate," he explained. "So, what I'm suggesting is: could you come to my chambers later and share a meal with me? I'll take care of the cooking, so no need to worry."
"Yes, certainly," you affirmed with a nod. "But, why the sudden dinner plan?"
"Because I need your opinion," he explained, running his hand over his face and settling into his chair. "And I trust your taste, especially since you've never experienced my cooking skills before."
A playful giggle escaped you, and you bit your lower lip. "Putting in quite the effort for this date. They must be someone special, or... I'm not sure what else could explain it."
He nodded in agreement, rolling his chair away from the desk. Removing his mitra and placing it carefully on the edge, he continued, "They are. A lot. Grazie for helping me again," standing up, he lifted his robe and removed it. "I'll be expecting you after work, so you can change comfortably if you wish," he added while hanging his robe. "But for now, let's focus on work, sĂ?"
You nodded in agreement, offering him a sweet smile as you made your way to the door of your cabinet. Pushing it open, you impulsively gave him a final glance and found him looking back at you. However, as your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, and you did the same, entering your office and closing the door behind you.
Furrowing your brows, you walked to your desk and turned your face towards the door, a sense of confusion settling in as an unspoken tension lingered in the air.
Determined to delve into work, you tried to push aside the intrusive thoughts about Secondo's date. The realization that he needed your opinion for a personal matter lingered, adding an unexpected layer to your responsibilities. It felt like putting in extra hours for a friend, yet a subtle discomfort simmered beneath the surface, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher.
The day progressed, and the weight of your concentration on work led you to skip lunch, an unusual occurrence even without a meeting with the Clergy. The intensity with which you focused became a shield against the lingering thoughts, keeping your emotions in check. As the hours passed, the unease grew, a nagging sensation that you couldn't shake.
Amid your concentrated efforts, a knock on your door shattered the silence, pulling you away from your work. The interruption disrupted your train of thought, leaving you slightly disoriented as you looked towards the door.
Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair walking to the front of your desk and turned towards the door. Leaning against the edge of the desk, you called out, "Come in," crossing your arms in front of your chest.
As the door swung open, a sibling of sin from the ministry stood there. "I apologize for disturbing you, Deacon, but your presence is requested by the Magister in the Chapel."
"Thank you," you responded with a gentle smile.
The Sibling of Sin nodded, taking a step back from the door before leaving your cabinet. Just before the door closed, you signaled to keep it open. Seizing the opportunity, you made your way towards the door, leaving your cabinet and heading directly to the Chapel.
Uncertain of what the Magister could possibly need at this hour in the afternoon, you had no choice but to go. Entering the chapel, Archeon, the Magister, was already waiting for you, seated on one of the benches. As your eyes met his, you couldn't help but sigh.
"Magister," you greeted, closing the chapel's door behind you.
He turned his face towards you, rising from the bench. "Deacon, please, join me," he gestured to a door, his office and you walked towards it with him.
You approached, entering his office with him following suit. Archeon's expression bore formality and concern as he glanced at you.
"Deacon, I apologize for the sudden call, but there's a matter of urgency that requires your attention," he began, his tone carrying a weight.
"What is it?" you inquired, a note of concern in your voice.
"It's about the upcoming ritual," he replied with a smirk.
Suppressing any visible reaction, you maintained a composed exterior, merely nodding in response. You found yourself unwittingly drawn into another discussion about the ritual, a situation that seemed to be becoming a recurring theme in your day.
You couldn't shake the suspicion that Archeon had summoned you instead of Secondo, well aware that convincing the Papa might be an impossible task. It was a misjudgment on his part, as you held firm in your loyalty to Secondo and his decisions.
As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of the ritual, the afternoon gradually stretched into the night. Engrossed in the meeting, you realized you hadn't found a chance to escape from the Magister's grasp. After the prolonged discussions, you couldn't help but wish you were anywhere else at this point, yearning for a break from the relentless discourse.
"I was thinking we could enhance the upcoming ritual with some thematic decorations, perhapsâ"
Raising your hand, you interjected wearily, offering a polite smile as your eyes flicked to the clock. "Magister, I appreciate your ideas, truly, but I've been immersed in logistical details all day." With a subtle gesture, you motioned towards the stack of papers on your desk. "I believe we've covered most bases. Can we possibly continue this discussion tomorrow?"
The Magister sighed, recognizing your exhaustion. "I completely understand, Deacon, but hear me out on these finer details about the ceremonial space. Picture this â ethereal lighting, symbolic artifacts, and maybe even a thematic focal point for the Papa Emeritus."
Nodding politely, you glanced towards the door, silently signaling the urgency of your situation. "Magister, your vision is inspiring, no doubt." As you spoke, you gathered the papers on your desk. "But I have an important matter to attend to now. Let's reconvene tomorrow, what do you think?"
"But, Deaconâ" he began, reluctant to let go of his ideas.
You stood, a sense of determination in your eyes. "Tomorrow, Magister. I promise we'll give your ideas the attention they deserve. Right now, urgent matters call."
He nodded, understanding the present circumstances, and you gave him a reassuring smile. With that, you headed towards the door, leaving the Magister to contemplate his ideas inside one of the rooms of the Chapel.
As you navigated the corridors to reach Secondo's chambers, your thoughts drifted to reasons why he needed you tonight. You had been friends with Secondo for a considerable time, and you couldn't recall a time when he straight-up asked for your help on something so private. Granted, he had casually alluded to it on a few occasions, but it was more like random thoughts than actual requests. You pondered what was happening for him to break from his routine and embark on this unexpected endeavor.
Reaching for the door of his chambers, you shook away your thoughts. Raising your hand, you knocked on his door, mirroring the courtesy he had extended to you earlier. Soon, his voice echoed from inside, signaling you to push the door open and enter.
As you walked in, you made your way to his bedroom, finding him standing in front of the mirror, holding two shirts in his hands. He placed them in front of his bare chest, tilting his head repeatedly as he assessed the options. Leaning against the doorframe, you chuckled at the sight. Secondo shifted his gaze from his reflection to acknowledge your presence in the room.
"Which one?" he inquired, a serious tone in his voice.
"The white one," you replied, gesturing towards the shirt in his left hand.
He sighed and walked to his bed, discarding the other shirt as he began to don the white one. You made your way towards him, observing him buttoning his shirt. Stopping in front of him, you extended your hands to his neck, assisting with the collar of the shirt, your gaze fixed on his neck.
"Why are you picking out a shirt?"
"I had a little accident in the kitchen," he mumbled.
A playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. "You, Secondo, had a little accident?"
He sighed, arching a brow. "SĂŹ"
"Feeling nervous?" you inquired, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on the skin of his neck.
"I don't get nervous," he declared with a serious tone, his hands moving to rest on your arms, holding them securely.
Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinized his expression. "You don't get nervous?"
"No," he replied, withdrawing his hands from your arms and lightly placing one on the side of your body.
Shaking your head with a smile, you moved your hands from his neck to the buttons of his shirt, skillfully undoing the first two. "You're not about to lead a mass or attend a meeting; you don't have to be that formal." You finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving him a light pat on the chest. "There, much better."
Secondo maintained a stoic silence, his gaze fixed on you as your hands lingered on his chest. The discreet sound of him clearing his throat felt like a subtle cue for you to withdraw your hands, concealing the flicker of embarrassment. Stepping back, you aimed to regain your composure.
Inhaling deeply, Secondo clasped his hands together and turned towards the kitchen, prompting you to follow suit. As he entered first and headed towards the stove, you found yourself trailing behind, entering the kitchen with a slight sense of uncertainty. Not quite sure of what to do or where to go, you hesitated on the threshold.
"Are you hungry?" he inquired.
"A little bit," you admitted.
"Come here," he beckoned, and you moved in a beeline towards him, stopping right beside him.
Turning to face you, Secondo gently held your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Open," he instructed, and a flicker of confusion passed through your eyes. Nonetheless, he moved his thumb closer to your lower lip, caressing it gently. "Your mouth."
Your gaze remained fixed on him as you slowly parted your lips, feeling his thumb almost sliding inside your mouth. A satisfied hum escaped him as he let go of your chin, guiding the spoon closer to your mouth.
As the spoon neared and your lips were still parted, your eyes fixed on him, Secondo abruptly halted his movement. He shifted the hand with the spoon, and you instinctively reached for it, taking hold. As he withdrew his hand to turn back to the stove, your eyes focused on the spoon.
"Blew it before tasting," he advised. "It's a recipe from my mom; she used to cook this risotto."
Obediently, you blew on the spoonful and tasted it, savoring the blend of flavors from the ingredients. A content smile spread across your face as you closed your eyes.
"It's good, sĂŹ?" Secondo inquired, and you opened your eyes, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he remarked, attempting to veil a subtle joy in his voice, though it lingered beneath the surface. "Now, take a seat, and I'll serve our food."
As Secondo finished serving, you took a seat, waiting for him to join. With graceful movements, he approached the table, placing a plate in front of you and another for himself. Seating himself, he reached for a bottle of wine, but just before pouring, a realization struck him. Standing up, he made his way to the countertop drawer, retrieving a lighter. Returning to the table, he ignited some candles, casting a warm glow in the room. He then went to the switch, turning off the lights before settling back at the table.
You looked around, slightly perplexed by the sudden change in ambiance. "What's all this?" you asked.
Secondo leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Just thought we'd get into the mood of a real date," he explained.
You chuckled, "A real date, huh?"
"SĂŹ, why not?" he replied, pouring some wine into both glasses.
"I appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll pass on the wine," you said with a small smile. "Still have work tomorrow."
Secondo nodded and got up. "Nessun problema. I'll get you something else." He returned with a bottle of water and a glass cup, placing them in front of you. "I apologize. I should have asked before."
"No need to apologize," you reassured him, pouring yourself some water. "I appreciate it," you sipped your water. "This really feels like a real date," you remarked with a playful smile.
Secondo leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I did ask you to meet me at night for a dinner,â Secondo admitted, a touch of genuine reflection in his voice. âBut I called you here to make sure Iâve still got the charm.â
You raised an eyebrow. âCharm? Is that what you call it?â
He grinned, âWell, you havenât run away yet, so it must be working, sĂŹ?â
You couldnât help but laugh at his playful banter. âI have to admit that your mother's risotto is being more powerful than your 'charm' right now. But, I suppose you have a point. So, whatâs the plan for our fictional date talk practice tonight?â
Secondo lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. "I thought we could dive into some typical date talk again. Just, before we do it, why are you still in your work clothes?"
You glanced down at your attire and sighed. "The Magister called for me this afternoon for a discussion."
"What was it about?" Secondo inquired, picking up his fork to begin eating.
"Guess," you replied dryly. "Of course, it was about the ritual."
"Cretino," Secondo muttered under his breath. "I'll make sure he knows not to disturb you any further."
You chuckled, appreciating Secondoâs protective tone. âNo need to worry, Secondo. I can handle the Magister, and besides, itâs part of the job.â
He sighed, delicately placing his utensils on the table. âI still donât like it. You shouldnât be bothered with such things. If I've made my decision, then he should stop pressuring you. I have the final say.â
You responded with a reassuring smile. âItâs okay, really. Now, back to our âtypical date talk.â If being a Papa Emeritus wasn't your destiny, you could have being a chef.â
A subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips as he focused on his food. "I'm truly glad you liked it."
"Are you planning to cook this for your date?" you inquired.
"No," he replied, taking a bite. "I mean... Yes, but, this dish is..." he continued. "This is a dish meant to be shared with someone special."
"Isn't your date someone special?" you quirked an eyebrow.
Secondo chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. âOf course. But this dish is... it has a meaning for me, and to share it with someone, for me, is truly intimate.â
You nodded, understanding. âSo, what you are telling me right now is that I'm special?"
Secondo took another bite, savoring the flavors before meeting your gaze. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he said with a playful glint in his eyes.
You leaned in, a teasing smile on your lips. "Well, Secondo, you're not giving me a clear answer. Should I be offended or flattered?"
He chuckled, setting his fork down. "You see, 'special' is quite a broad term. it can mean a lot of tings."
You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? But I suppose it's better than a definite 'no'."
He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "However," he sighed before continuing. "I can't deny that sharing this with you is special. So maybe you're not just special; you're making it special."
You blushed deeply and he reached for your hand. You instinctively let him, both of you seemingly unaware of the unspoken shift in dynamics. The touch felt surprisingly natural, and as your fingers intertwined, the air in the room seemed to thicken with some strange newfound feeling.
âPerhaps,â Secondo began, his voice softer, âwe could do this again sometime.â
You nodded. âOf course, I'd love to.â
The evening unfolded in shared conversations and laughter, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate. Your hands remained intertwined, as if in sync with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a performance, or at least didn't feel like it as time seemed to slow down as you both reveled in the comfort of each other's presence.
As the meal drew to a close, Secondo rose, indicating his intention to take care of the dishes. Despite your offer to help, he insisted that you stay put, asserting his desire to handle the task. Weariness settling in, you acquiesced without further protest, allowing him to take charge.
Reclining in your chair, you observed him as he methodically rolled up his sleeves, ready to tackle the pile of dishes. Resting your elbow on the table, you cradled your cheek in your hand, captivated by the simple domesticity of the scene. Watching him in this moment, he seemed more than the formidable Papa Emeritus; he appeared as a person engaged in mundane yet oddly enchanting chores. It was a rare glimpse of Secondo unguarded, a side obscured by his role of authority.
Your eyes roamed over his silhouette, from the way his white shirt clung to him with meticulous precision, the impeccable fit of his black pants, down to his polished shoes. Every detail seemed to accentuate the allure of his form. As he worked on the dishes, your gaze lingered on the back of his head, his neck, his arms, and the motion of his strong hands. The entire sight prompted an involuntary sigh, a reflexive response to the unexpected allure of observing him.
Clearing your head, you shook off the enchantment and took in a deep breath. It felt odd to gaze upon him with such admiration, especially in the context of a casual evening. Reminding yourself that this was merely a performance, a shared act between two individuals, you sought to maintain a sense of detachment. The lines between the scripted performance and genuine connection blurred momentarily.
"Have you considered bringing flowers for your date?" you inquired, turning your gaze back to him.
Secondo paused in his actions, glancing over his shoulder. "Flowers?"
"It could be a nice touch," you suggested, your tone gentle, accompanied by a warm smile. "A thoughtful gesture, don't you think?"
"Flowers," he chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "What kind of flowers?"
"I don't know, maybe... lilies, daisies or..." you paused, contemplating. "Oh! tulips!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a smile.
"Tulips?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding with a continued smile. "Tulips expresses admiration."
"Tulips then," he decided, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, Papa. Tulips," you confirmed with a grin
"Stop," he said in a more serious tone.
"Stop with what, Papa?" you inquired, letting his title linger a bit longer on your tongue.
With a chuckle, Secondo turned towards you, arms crossed over his chest. "Pasticcina..."
"Papa?" you repeated, trying to suppress a laugh, your lower lip caught between your teeth.
He approached the table, placing his hands on it in front of you, lowering himself slightly. "Do you find it entertaining to mock me?"
With a playful tone, you replied, gesturing with your hand as if pinching an imaginary space between your thumb and index finger. "A little. But to be honest, I don't get why you don't like me calling you Papa. You call me Deacon!"
He sighed, closing his eyes. "When you call me Papa, it feels like you're just another one of them who sees me only in that role. I know you don't, or at least, I want to believe you don't. So when you do it, it feels like you're only acknowledging me as Papa. Also seeing me as someone above you, and I don't want you to see me as it. You're the only one I allow to call me by my name because... that feels more personal, more real."
"Secondo," you softly uttered his name, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "I..." you continued, observing as Secondo opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours.
He nodded slightly, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Now you know."
You couldn't help but feel a warmth in your chest, realizing the significance of calling him by his name. It was a privilege, a connection beyond titles and roles. You sensed a deeper bond, one that surpassed the boundaries of your official positions.
"But," you chuckled, looking away from his eyes. "That doesn't explain why you call me Deacon." As you spoke, you felt Secondo's gentle touch cupping your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze once more.
"That's easy to explain, actually," he replied, straightening his posture and adjusting his sleeves. "I call you Deacon because, in my eyes, you are more than just your title," Secondo said with a sincere tone, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's a term that resonates with the person you are to meâdedicated, capable. When I say it, it's not just a formality; it's a way of acknowledging the person I trust, respect, and consider my equal."
His words caught you off guard, surprise and warmth settling within. You sat there, momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond, your gaze fixed on him. Secondo, with a subtle tilt of his head, seemed to enjoy your reaction. Breaking the moment, you burst into laughter, getting up from your seat and playfully hitting his arm with a soft punch. He reached for your hand, and pulled you closer.
"Should I let you go for tonight?" he whispered in a hushed tone.
Confused by his ambiguous words, you pondered the meaning behind "letting you go." What was he implying? You hesitated, uncertain of your response. Should you express a desire to stay longer, to extend this quiet and intimate moment with him? Yet, the reason behind that desire eluded you.
"Is our 'date' coming to an end?" you inquired, matching his subdued tone.
"It depends," he whispered back.
The air seemed to thicken, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. His proximity and the gentle embrace of your hands intensified the unspoken tension, leaving you breathless and uncertain how to navigate the intimate space between you.
"In that case," you began, gently retracting your hand from his grasp, "I suppose our night comes to an end."
As you spoke, Secondo remained silent, nodding in agreement while avoiding eye contact. He gestured toward the kitchen's door, prompting you to lead the way. Moving in silence, you felt the weight of your words, wondering if you had conveyed the wrong message. As you approached the front door, you hesitated, a desire to turn and look at him conflicting with the sense that you had just given an inadequate response.
Reaching the door, you stopped, making room for Secondo to open it for you. Gathering your courage, you glanced back at him, only to find his gaze fixed elsewhere. Sighing, you stepped outside, facing the corridor. Just as you were about to move on, he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on the back. As he released your hand, he remained silent, offering a small nod and a faint smile.
Taking a step back into his chambers, Secondo slowly closed the door, allowing for a prolonged gaze between you two. When the door finally shut completely, you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, exhaling heavily. Holding the hand he had kissed against your face with the other, you could feel your heart racing and your cheeks burning.
You hurriedly retreated to your chambers, not daring to glance back. No furtive glimpses, not even with the corner of your eye. Distance was your ally, and you needed to put as much of it between you and him as possible. The empty corridors allowed for swift, almost running steps, the only sounds being the echo of your hurried pace and the rapid beating of your heart.
Upon reaching the door to your chambers, you wasted no time and swung it open, entering in haste. As the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a moment to catch your breath before attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
Turning your gaze to your hand, the one he had just kissed, you were certain you could still feel the warmth of his lips on it. Driven by a mix of desire and bewilderment, you brought the hand closer to your face, hovering it near your lips. With closed eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation, as if the residual heat from his kiss on your hand was transferring directly to your lips. It almost felt like...
You opened your eyes, fixating on your hand outstretched in front of you, prompting a sigh to escape your lips. As your gaze trailed the back of your hand, there it wasâthe imprint of his lips, the distinctive black lines from his face paint against the white. Your eyes softened, and you closed them once more. Bringing your hand close to your mouth, you allowed yourself to place a gentle kiss on the marked skin. As you withdrew your lips from your hands, the faint imprint of his kiss lingered. The sensation was as if you had just shared a kiss with Secondo, kindling a flame within you.
The line for the confessional today was incredibly long. It wasn't your usual practice to engage in this, as you preferred to grapple with your sins in silence. Moreover, your role as a Deacon didn't mandate such confessions. However, during your free moments, you occasionally indulged in sharing your transgressions with the Cardinal of the week, the Minister, or even the Papa Emeritus himself.
The problem lay in the aftermath of the previous night, as an unusual sense of guilt and embarrassment gripped you. It was a sentiment you couldn't entirely comprehend, but the source of your embarrassment was clear â the intimate act with your hand that felt inherently wrong.
The queue for the confessional was filled with siblings eager to speak with Secondo. However, as his Deacon, you were well aware that he wouldn't be available today due to a busy morning. You found solace in the knowledge that he wouldnât be the one hearing your thoughts, actions, and feelings today. Instead, the confessional would be attended by one of the Ministers from the Ministry, as per the schedule.
As the queue inched closer to your turn at the confessional, a sense of nervousness tinged your anticipation. You knew you needed to confess the guilt and embarrassment you felt from the previous night, but you were determined to keep the details superficial and avoid any mention of Secondo. The goal was to confide without revealing the true source of your inner turmoil, ensuring that whoever listened on the other side remained unaware of the specific circumstances.
After a brief wait, it was finally your turn at the confessional. As you stepped into it, the familiar scent of aged wood surrounded you, creating a somewhat comforting atmosphere. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.
"Forgive me, Minister, for I've sinned," you began, your voice calm within the confines of the confessional.
Inside, a brief silence ensued, and you turned your head, catching a glimpse of the Minister's silhouette through the window. He nodded, prompting you to take a deep breath.
âI⊠I found myself in a situation that felt inappropriate,â you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. âI feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but I do.â
Turning your gaze to the silhouette once more, another nod from the Minister signaled for you to continue.
"I know that embracing desire is considered virtuous, and I shouldn't feel shame, but I do," you confessed, leaning against the confessional wall. "I find myself entangled in thoughts and feelings of lust with someone I shouldn't. He wasn't someone I desired before or maybe did; I regarded him as an equal, a friend. However, something has changed, he looks different now."
The Minister's silhouette stayed stoic, leaving you uncertain about whether to continue. However, you knew he wouldn't abandon the confessional.
"We've had some conversations in the last few days, and it's embarrassing because I shouldn't be feeling this way about him after such a short time, but the way he talks, the care he shows when I'm talking..." you smiled. "The way he expressed how he sees me... and other things. I start to feel like I've been blind whenever I was close to him or just ignored things I shouldn't have, and for that, I feel embarrassed. My sin today is this guilt inside of me."
You furrowed your brows as the silhouette remained stoic, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.
"Minister? Should I proceed?" you asked with uncertainty.
He nodded in response.
"I should be proud of what happened yesterday; after all, lust is embraced here. But, all I feel is guilt. Guilt for the desire I felt, for what I imagined with him," you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your legs together. "For the longing for a kiss, just an innocent kiss," you murmured, opening your eyes. "I feel guilty for wanting my friend, for desiring him, for needing him."
You sighed, shifting your gaze to the silhouette on the other side of the confessional booth. The Magister remained a silent listener, patiently absorbing your words.
"I feel like Iâm caught in this whirlwind of emotions," you confessed, your gaze dropping to your feet. "I'm starting to think maybe this attraction was always lurking around, unnoticed or dismissed. It's confusing â being drawn to him when it feels like I shouldn't. But," you grinned, "I can't shake the thoughts of him, and this curiosity to unravel more about who he really is."
You awaited a response, but the Minister stayed silent. The thought that they might have figured out who you were referring to started to gnaw at you, a tightening sensation in your stomach.
"Thank you, Minister, for listening," you expressed as you gently opened the confessional door and stepped out, leaving the weight of your confessions within its sacred space.
Exiting the confessional, you headed back to your cabinet, exiting the chapel. In the corridors, you spotted the Magister, you anticipated the conversation you had promised him yesterday. Inhaling deeply to prepare yourself, as you walked past him, however, he deliberately avoided your presence, not even bothering to meet your gaze.
Observing him stride away, a chuckle escaped your lips. It seemed Secondo had indeed managed to convey the message to leave you alone. As you continued to your cabinet, you passed by Secondo's office door, giving it a brief glance. He probably hadn't returned yet from the meeting he had scheduled for this morning. Reaching your own door, you opened it and stepped inside.
The rest of the day unfolded with an unusual quietness. Secondo didn't show up after the meeting hour, and there were no requests or messages from him. The typically atmosphere of his office, where you could hear the muffled sounds of him discussing matters with other siblings or working on various tasks, was eerily silent. You couldn't even catch a glimpse of him through the slightly open door of his office.
Despite the unusual circumstances, you decided to focus on your work. The Ministry's duties and responsibilities demanded your attention, and you knew that dwelling on Secondo's absence wouldn't serve any purpose. Your tasks as a Deacon required precision and dedication, and you delved into your responsibilities, pushing aside any thoughts about the peculiar events of the day.
Yet, you missed him.
As the hours passed, the normal rhythm of your work continued, and you worked on managing requests, coordinating schedules, and overseeing the operations within the Ministry. The day rolled on, and soon it was approaching the end of your work shift. Still, there was no sign of Secondo, and the unusual emptiness in his office lingered in the air. You wondered if something significant had occurred or if he simply had other matters to attend to. Regardless, you maintained your focus on your duties, determined to fulfill your responsibilities until the last moments of your workday.
The sudden knock on your door nearly startled you, prompting a swift rise from your chair. Fueled by the hope that it might be Secondo, you hurried to the door, anticipation coursing through you. However, to your disappointment, it was one of the ritualists who awaited you on the other side.
"It's quite late, and I understand if you've wrapped up your work, but I have some details for the upcoming ritual at the end of the week," he mentioned, gesturing with a folder in his hand.
"Please," you said, stepping back to allow him entry. "Come in."
He nodded, stepping into your cabinet. "It's not urgent. Honestly, you can address it tomorrow, but I needed someone reliable to take a look at the final document."
As you closed the door, you faced him. "You do realize you should have handed it to Papa, right?"
"Don't you know?" he inquired, noticing your confusion. "Papa didn't attend the morning meeting, and no one has seen him since then."
"What!?" you exclaimed, attempting to mask your emotions. "What do you mean?"
"I assumed you might knew," he said, placing the folder on your desk.
"I..." you glanced at Secondo's door. "I didn't..." you sighed, shifting your focus back to the ritualist. "Maybe he was just occupied for the day."
"Perhaps," he replied with a shrug. "Well, thanks for receiving me," he said, heading toward the door and opening it. "As I mentioned, don't stress about the files today; you can handle them tomorrow."
As the ritualist departed, closing the door behind him, you swiftly approached Secondo's office door connected to your cabinet. Pushing it open, you scanned the room. There was no indication that he had been in his office today. Unusual â it wasn't typical for Secondo to be absent from the office or working elsewhere without a clear reason.
A troubling thought surfaced: could his absence be tied to his date? Perhaps he was preparing for it, but was it today? Regardless, he wouldnât neglect his responsibilities like this, especially not without keeping you informed.
Exiting his office, you returned to your cabinet. Without a second glance, you headed to your front door and left. Determined to locate Secondo, you were certain he would be in his chambersâthe only place where he could remain hidden for an extended period without being spotted.
As you walked purposefully through the corridors, the urgency of finding Secondo fueled your steps. Upon reaching the entrance to Secondoâs chambers, a moment of hesitation overcame you before retrieving the spare keys hidden at the top of the door and pushing it open.
âSecondo?â No response. The silence pressed against your ears, amplifying the tension.
To your surprise, the room was empty. The subtle scent of incense hung in the air, but there was no sign of Secondo. The mysterious absence deepened your concern. Maybe he had left a clue, a note, or something that could shed light on his sudden disappearance. You began to search the room, checking every corner, every piece of parchment on his desk.
Nothing.
As you stood in the center of Secondo's chamber, uncertainty gripped you. Where could he be? The unanswered questions piled up, and a sense of foreboding weighed on your shoulders. An eerie silence enveloped the room. The air seemed to hold its breath.
Exiting his chambers, you headed back to your cabinet, determined to focus on the documents the ritualist had delivered. You pondered where else Secondo might be if not in his chambers. A sense of worry gnawed at you; his prolonged absence was unusual, especially for the entire day.
Arriving at your cabinet's door, you paused, taking a deep breath. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to Secondo's closed office door, searching for any hint of light beneath it. To your disappointment, there was none. Deciding not to dwell on it further, you pushed open your door. But, just as you were about to step inside, you found him already there, standing in front of your desk, holding the folder delivered by the ritualist.
"Secondo!" you exclaimed, stepping inside.
"Deacon," he said, meeting your gaze with a seemingly innocent expression. "I was wondering where you went."
"I should be the one asking that," you retorted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"
"In the... Ministry...?" he asked, arching a brow in mock innocence, placing the folder on your desk. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean!" you said, your tone sharpening. "You've been absent the entire day!" you said, stepping closer to him.
"Deacon..."
"No," you interrupted, pointing at him as you closed the distance. "Don't use my title orâ"
âPasticcina,â Secondo interjected. His tone remained steady but carried an unspoken weight.
As the familiar nickname reached you, you came to a sudden stop a few inches away from him. Casting a brief glance in his direction, you took in his unadorned appearance â no face paint, only wearing the clothes he typically donned under his Papa's robe.
âI had some personal matters to attend to,â Secondo explained, breaking the momentary silence. His eyes met yours, revealing something you couldnât quite decipher.
âPersonal matters?â you repeated, your tone a blend of skepticism and curiosity. âYou were absent the whole day.â
He sighed, a hint of frustration evident. âThere are aspects of my duties that require discretion. Itâs nothing to concern yourself with, pasticcina.â
"What? Since when?" you said, frustration evident, releasing his hand. "Are you kidding me?" The heat of anger simmered within you. "Secondo, you've been absent the entire day. I assumed maybe a lengthy meeting, but it felt odd. No communication, no nothing throughout the day," you continued. "This isn't your usual behavior. You don't skip work, you don't disappear, and most importantly, not without..." Your words trailed off.
"Not without?" he inquired.
"Not without telling me," you sighed, turning away and rubbing your hands over your eyes. "I'm your Deacon; you can't pull disappearing acts without informing me about what's happening." As you faced him again, he stood unexpectedly close, the intensity of his presence catching you off guard.
"I didn't skip work today," he asserted, looking down at you. "I was working."
"Oh, were you?" you shot back with a defiant look, crossing your arms. "Really?"
"SĂŹ?" he replied, mirroring your crossed arms. "Why would I lie to you?"
"I don't know, maybe for the same reason you hid from me the entire day?" you said, the anger still simmering. "I even thought that maybe your date was today, and you were..." you inhaled deeply. "there... with them." As you said it, your words came out laden with frustration and an unspoken hurt. "But, I've had enough of these vague answers, Secondo," you said, your frustration boiling over. "What happened today? You can't just disappear without a word."
He sighed, his gaze shifting away. "It was unexpected."
"Unexpected? That's all you're giving me?" you retorted, unconvinced. "Everyone in the Ministry was worried, and I was left in the dark."
"I'm sure no one was worried, pasticcina, and I apologize for the concern," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"You can't justâI'm the Deacon! I should know what's happening," you insisted, your eyes narrowing.
He paused, as if grappling with a decision. "Bene, I'll tell you," he conceded, meeting your gaze. "I was in a private duty today."
"A private duty?" you echoed, puzzled. "What could possibly be a private duty?"
He hesitated, then admitted, âI am the Papa Emeritus of the Ministry, after all. Sometimes, I need to be the listener,â he explained, a shadow of weariness crossing his features.
âA listener?â you questioned, still trying to grasp the extent of his absence.
âI skipped the meeting because I couldnât shake off some of my thoughts. Then, I found myself in the confessional today,â he repeated, his tone revealing a deeper truth. âListening to confessions. I wanted to offer guidance, to be there for those who needed it."
âSo, it means that it wasââ a sudden realization hit you. If Secondo was the one inside the confessional today...
Secondo gently reached for your face, cupping your cheek. âDo you want to talk about why you felt guilty?â
Your eyes widened as you looked at him. âI donât.â
"Are you sure about that, pasticcina?" he inquired, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw.
You tried to maintain composure. "I don't feel guilty."
He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. "Confessionals are meant for honesty, you know."
You took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to confess," you insisted, though your gaze flickered with uncertainty.
"But you had," Secondoâs gaze held an unspoken challenge. âDon't hide your sins from me, pasticcina,â his thumb continued its gentle caress.
âI⊠I just...â you stammered, attempting to evade the specifics. Feeling the pressure, you took a step back, creating a slight distance between you and Secondo. His eyes followed your movement, and took a deep breath.
"You can talk to me," he persisted, closing the gap again, his gaze unwavering. "What happened?"
You continued to evade, attempting to maintain composure. "It's nothing, really."
He pursued you, narrowing the distance between you once more. "Tell me," he urged, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. "I want to help you to get rid of this feeling. Let me, your Papa, guide you."
As the space between you diminished, you met his gaze, and in a barely audible whisper, you admitted, "I feel guilty because of you."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Secondoâs eyes as he maintained the proximity, absorbing your whispered admission. Before he could respond, you spoke up.
âI feel guilty,â you confessed, âfor wanting you,â the words tumbled out, revealing the turmoil within. "But I shouldn't because we are friends... But yesterday, all I wanted for some reason was you, your touch, a kiss..."
Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The air seemed to pause, and then, with a gentle and unmistakable determination, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, he held still, leaving his lips lightly grazing yours, waiting for your response.
As you closed your eyes slowly, you took a deep breath, reciprocating the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, fingers tracing patterns as your lips moved in harmony. Slowly, your hands caressed down to his belly before settling on the sides of his body. As you explored the contours, Secondo responded by unwrapping his arms from around you. His hands then journeyed to your face, cupping your cheeks with gentle warmth, intensifying the closeness of the moment.
As the kiss continued, the touch of your lips remained gentle and unhurried. Your hands, exploring the intricate contours of his body, moved with deliberate tenderness. Secondo's response was a mirrored reflection of the unhurried passion. He let his hands linger on your face, thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your cheeks.
And then, subtle shift occurred, and the tenderness transformed into a growing intensity. The unhurried kiss between you and Secondo began to deepen, the softness giving way to a more fervent exchange.
Your hands, once gentle in their exploration, tightened their hold with a newfound urgency. They traced the lines of his body, conveying a growing desire that mirrored the intensifying kiss. Secondo responded in kind, his touch on your face evolving from a gentle caress to a more passionate hold, fingers tracing their path to the back of your neck.
His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as his other hand firmly grasped your waist. Your bodies were pressed against each other, intensifying the kiss. A subtle sound escaped your lips, blending with a sigh as Secondo's grip on your waist tightened.
Tilting his head, Secondoâs tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance. However, you, sensing the path the kiss could lead you both, pulled away abruptly. The fire that had been building extinguished as you put a deliberate distance between you and Secondo.
Secondo's eyes, filled with concern, locked onto yours. This time, you turned your face to the side, glancing away. Undeterred, he gently held your chin, turning it back to face him.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone, his lips just inches away.
"N-Nothing," you stammered, trying to hide the unease in your voice.
"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes conveyed a mix of worry and confusion.
"No..." you said, reaching for the hand on your chin, holding it in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I just..." you started, your voice softening. "I knew where that kiss could lead, and it didn't feel right, especially considering..."
"Considering what?" Secondo inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.
"...Considering you have a date," you replied.
Secondoâs gaze held deep emotions as he absorbed your words. âAh, the date,â he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. âItâs just a date, pasticcina.â
âHow come?â you inquired. âYouâve been preparing yourself for the last two days.â
He chuckled lightly, a softness in his eyes. âI need to tell you something about it."
"Look," you began, hugging your own arms around your body. "You don't have to."
"Paâ" Secondo started to protest.
You gently interjected, placing two of your fingers on his lips. "It's fine. You have your date. I was just confusing things, and we're just friends, right?" A small, reassuring smile graced your lips.
"Pasticcina..." he said against your fingers on his lips. He gently took your hand, the one that covered his lips, and brought it to his own cheek, holding it there. "Don't do it like that. Don't say things like that," his eyes pleaded with yours. "Listen to me."
You retracted your hand from his face and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's all fine," you whispered close to his cheek, hovering your nose near it. "I should be going now. I'm sorry for what I said at the confessional and for what I said now. I guess I just lost myself for a moment. That was a mistake."
As you uttered those words, you took a decisive step away from Secondo, moving towards the door. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the air, and amidst the charged atmosphere, you heard Secondo calling your name. The temptation to look back tugged at you, but you resisted. Turning back would only complicate things, and deep down, you knew you shouldn't. In the end, it all became a silent struggle between the desire to stay and the doubt if leaving was the right choice.
Lying in bed, you remained still, the passing minutes or perhaps hours slipping by unnoticed. The events of the previous night lingered in your thoughts, casting a peculiar spell over your mind. As you replayed the scene, questions swirled, and a prominent one stood out â why did he kiss you? The weight of that unanswered question settled in your mind, weaving a web of contemplation as the kiss seemed like a gesture of compassion, as if your revelation might prompt Secondo to grant you your deepest longing at that instant. However, he wouldn't behave in such a manner, not just with you, but with anyone else. This wasn't the Secondo you were familiar with.
Immersed in your contemplations, the persistent curiosity continued to tug at your thoughts. It resembled a puzzle with crucial pieces missing, each reflection spawning more unanswered questions. In an attempt to regain focus, you decided to rise, take a shower, and prepare for the day. As a member of his Clergy, your responsibilities called for attention, and dwelling on thoughts of him could no longer detain you in bed. Nevertheless, the images from the previous night lingered in your mind. A subtle but undeniable sense of change permeated your thoughts, leaving you with a perplexing feeling that the nature of this shift eluded your understanding.
Setting those lingering thoughts aside, you proceeded with your bath. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom and returned to your room to attire yourself for the day. Despite being plagued by the memory of Secondo's lingering kiss, you remained committed to fulfilling your duties, even if starting the day later than planned.
As you left your room and made your way to the cabinet, you hoped that immersing yourself in work would serve as a welcomed distraction. Your silent pleas for tranquility were directed to the Dark One as you navigated the corridors. In a way, you found yourself praying to avoid encountering Secondo, at least for the time being. Yet, it seemed the Dark One remained indifferent to your pleads.
"Deacon," Secondo's voice reached your ears as you halted in front of your door.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Papa," you acknowledged.
Secondo lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, then cleared his throat. "Iâ Will you be attending the lunch meeting today?"
"Maybe," you replied, uncertainty lacing your words.
Secondo's eyes held a subtle intensity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between you two from the previous night. As you exchanged glances, the atmosphere seemed to sway between hot and cold, the lingering memory of the kiss casting a shadow over you both.
"Maybe," you repeated, your response holding a hint of reservation.
"Decisions regarding the upcoming ritual need to be discussed," Secondo remarked, shifting the conversation. "Your presence is crucial in this, Deacon. The ritual details demand meticulous attention."
You nodded. "Certainly, Papa. However, I thought all the details had already been finalized."
Secondo parted his lips, seemingly about to say something, but the door to his office creaked open. A Sister of sin emerged, casting a curious glance in your direction.
"Papa," she called him, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"Ah, sorella," Secondo acknowledged, his focus briefly shifting. "Deacon, we shall resume this discussion later," he said it, entering his office.
You retreated from the corridor, entering your cabinet as the door to Secondo's office closed behind him and the Sister of sin. The encounter left a questions in your mind, a quiet curiosity about the identity of the sister and the nature of their interaction. Could she be the date Secondo had been preparing for? The thought lingered, but you pushed it aside, realizing that this wasn't the moment to dwell on such matters.
You had a portion of work to complete before the lunch meeting, and that became your immediate focus. Whoever the Sister in Secondo's office was creeping your thoughts. To the point you had to remind yourself: you're friends, he has a date, the kiss was a mistake, merely a result of your inadvertent encouragement. This internal mantra aimed to clear the air of any unresolved tensions as you delved into your tasks.
And then, doubts lingered in the recesses of your mind. What if you were wrong? What if Secondo desired the kiss as much as you did, and your inadvertent admission gave him the courage to express his own feelings? But you pushed aside those thoughts.
But, unfortunately, nothing could entirely distract you from the thoughts about Secondo and suddenly, you found yourself standing in front of his door, clutching some papers as a feeble excuse to engage in conversation. Hesitation seized you, torn between knocking and retreating. The uncertainty loomed, as if uttering words might unravel the mystery, yet also deepen the intricate layers of your connection with Secondo.
You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. A subtle anxiety crept in, contemplating the possibility that Secondo might be deliberately ignoring you. Knocking again, the silence persisted, leaving a sense of unease. Pressing your ear against the door, you strained to catch any sound from within. Unable to resist, you pushed the door open, only to find Secondo's office empty.
Surveying the room, you found no trace of Secondo, except for his mitra on the desk and his robe hanging in its usual spot. You stepped inside, making your way towards the desk. Your fingers traced the contours of his mitra, and a silent reflection crept you. With a sigh, you carefully placed the mitra back where it belonged.
Your fingers traced over some papers on top of his desk, absentmindedly observing them. Before you could delve into their contents, his office door swung open, prompting you to swiftly redirect your attention towards him as he entered.
"Deacon?" Secondo said as he entered the room, his gaze meeting yours.
"Papa," you responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.
He approached his desk, eyeing the papers you had touched with a subtle curiosity. "Is there something you need? How is work?"
"No, not really. I was just finalizing some documents for the upcoming ritual," you explained, your tone professional as you placed the folders on his desk. "Do you have any specific preferences or changes you'd like to make?"
Secondo paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "No, proceed as planned. But, that's something we should discuss at the lunch," he added.
"Understood," you replied.
"So shall we?" Secondo inquired, his eyes holding a subtle invitation.
"Shall we... what?" you responded, a touch of confusion in your tone.
"The lunch meeting," he clarified, his gaze lingering on you. "It's almost time for it."
âAlready?â you questioned, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. The realization hit you â you had been away from your cabinet since the early hours of the morning, losing track of your usual morning routine.
Turning your gaze back to him, you nodded in agreement. Secondo graciously pushed the door open for you, and you began to walk in its direction, with him following suit. As you both exited his office, Secondo closed the door behind him and gave a friendly pat on your back, signaling for you to start walking together. Following his lead, you stepped in stride with him.
"Papa," you called, turning to face him, your gaze seeking his attention.
"Hm?" he responded with a casual sound, maintaining his forward gaze.
"Are you okay?" you inquired, tilting your head.
"SĂŹ, Deacon," he replied. "You?"
"Good," you nodded, turning your attention back to the corridor.
As you both continued walking towards the meeting place, you noticed that Secondo's hand remained on your back, providing an oddly comforting yet tense sensation. The prolonged contact sent a subtle shiver through your entire body.
"Papa," you called out once more.
"SĂŹ?" he replied, his voice slightly raspy.
"About the ritual," you began, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Is everything in place?"
"As far as I know, everything is in order," he reassured.
"That's good to hear," you nodded, appreciatively.
"Of course," Secondo affirmed.
"Papâ"
Secondoâs hand left your back and gripped the back of your neck. In a swift motion, he turned, pressing you against the wall. However, his other hand intercepted the impact, ensuring your head wouldnât hit the hard surface. The unexpected closeness made your heart race as you locked eyes with him.
"Stop," Secondo's voice held a seriousness that caught you off guard. "Stop treating me like the others," he furrowed his brows. "You're not like that."
"But, we are in public, and normally I call youâ"
Secondo interjected, leaning closer, his hand finding the wall right next to your head. "There is no one around us."
"Does it matter?" you retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the closeness. "We have roles to play, Secondo. We are just keeping up with our roles."
His gaze lingered on yours, holding frustration and something deeper. "Our roles?" he scoffed. "We're not puppets, and this... pretending is driving me insane."
"You? Insane?" you challenged, your voice almost a whisper. "What are you trying to say, Secondo?"
He pulled back slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto yours. "I'm saying that..."
Before Secondo could say it, the distant sound of footsteps reached both of you, echoing through the corridor. Secondo swiftly pulled back, his expression unreadable. A shadowy figure approached the scene. It was a Sibling of Sin, their presence injecting an element of formality into the atmosphere. Secondo straightened himself, adopting a more composed demeanor.
The Sibling passed through, offering a polite nod to both of you. As she disappeared down the corridor, Secondo took a moment to compose himself. He resumed his walk to the lunch meeting, and you followed suit. An uneasy silence settled between the two of you, and perhaps for the first time, his silence weighed heavily on you.
Upon reaching the lunch meeting place, Secondo paused at the entrance. Sensing something amiss, you moved closer and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
âSecondo, are you okay?â you asked, concern etched on your face.
He cast a quick, vulnerable glance at you. "Iâ," he sighed and shifted his gaze to meet yours. "Did I mess everything up?"
"What are you talking about?" you inquired, your hand moving from his shoulder to gently cup his cheek.
Secondo took a deep breath, his eyes holding hesitation and longing. "About last night..." he began.
"What about it?" you asked, searching his eyes for clues.
"The kiss," he said, almost in a whisper. "Was it a mistake?"
Your heart fluttered, but you held back your true feelings. "Everything is okay, Secondo," you replied, offering a reassuring smile. "No need to worry about it."
Secondo's eyes lingered on yours, a silent plea hidden within them. "Deacon," he started.
Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. "Y-yes?" you inquired, your voice slightly shaky.
âI need to know,â Secondo began cautiously, âWas the kiss a mistake?â
âIt wasnât a mistake,â you admitted, âbut it was just a moment, right?â
He looked away for a moment, grappling with his own thoughts. âI donât want to complicate things,â he said.
You reached out and embraced Secondo. âIt doesnât have to complicate anything,â you whispered. âWeâre still friends. Donât worry.â
He hesitated for a moment, then his arms circled around you in return, holding you closer. Secondo pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. âI just donât want to lose what we have, pasticcina.â
You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his. âYou wonât,â you assured him. âNow, letâs go in for the lunch meeting, and we can talk about that later."
"No," he softly uttered, releasing your shoulders. "Deacon, we need to talk now."
"I'm listening," you replied, grabbing one of his hands.
But before he could say anything, the door of the meeting room where the lunch was happening opened, prompting you to release his hand. Turning your head, you looked at the ritualist who stood there in front of you, while Secondo's attention was solely fixed on the fact that you had left his hand. His gaze was locked on his hand without yours, seemingly indifferent to the presence of the ritualist.
"Papa!" he exclaimed, relief in his voice. "I was about to go find you," he said turning his eyes to you. "And I can see the Deacon will grace us with their presence today."
You nodded in acknowledgment with a polite smile. Secondo, however, maintained a stoic expression. The ritualist gestured toward the open door, signaling for you both to enter the meeting room. Secondo finally moved and entered, and you followed suit, stepping inside after him. As the ritualist closed the door and returned to his seat, Secondo turned to you, lowering his head closer to yours.
"We will talk later," he whispered, his words brushing close to your ear.
As he pulled away, you couldn't help but feel the lingering anticipation of a conversation yet to unfold. You looked at him, nodding slowly. Secondo shot you a small grin and moved towards the main chair. Taking a deep breath, you walked to your chair as well, settling in among the other members of the clergy.
As the lunch meeting unfolded, you found yourself engrossed in discussions about the upcoming ritual. The atmosphere was tense, with various opinions being exchanged. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, your eyes kept drifting to Secondo, who was seated across the room. You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you as well. Every time your eyes met, a subtle tension hung in the air, creating a silent dialogue that seemed to transcend the confines of the meeting room.
As the meeting concluded, Clergy members began rising from their seats, making their way towards the exit. You and Secondo followed suit, standing up to leave the room. Together, you walked back together towards your offices. Even in the short distance, you could feel the electrifying tension between you two. His hand brushed against yours a few times, sending a rush of warmth through your body, yet he didn't hold it. Instead, his pinky finger subtly grazed yours, a playful and intimate touch that made you blush.
Secondo's gaze swept over the surroundings, his hand gripping yours gently with interwoven fingers. "Are you too busy this afternoon?" he inquired, his voice lowered.
You turned to meet his gaze and shook your head in the negative.
"Molto bene," he nodded once. "So, would you come with me to my office, sĂŹ?"
"Y-yes..." you stammered, a lingering blush on your cheeks, and a newfound layer of shyness stemming from the gentle hold of his hand. "But why?"
"Because we need to talk," he replied.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, anxiety momentarily overshadowing the lingering shyness. You took a deep breath. "O-Of course."
He hummed in contentment, his lips curving into a grin as you continued walking to his office, hands still entwined. The sensation was almost overwhelming for you; feeling him this way was different. Though you had held hands before, this time it carried a distinct and unfamiliar weight. It felt differentâyou felt different.
Yet, this did little to soothe your nerves. Whatever he wanted to discuss was causing a ripple of worry within you. Today, Secondo seemed differentâsomewhat distant and cold, while also exuding a combination of incisiveness and sentimentality. However, beneath these conflicting emotions, there lingered a sense that he was grappling with something, something elusive that you couldn't quite decipher. The ambiguity might be attributed to his usual reserved demeanor or the enigmatic face paint that adeptly concealed his emotions when left unspoken.
Upon reaching his office, Secondo maintained his grip on your hand, and you could sense a subtle tightening as he reached for the doorknob. Deliberately turning it, he took a deep breath that caused his shoulders to rise. As the door swung open, he swiftly released your hand and stood motionless in front of the entrance. Intrigued, you took a step closer, realizing Terzo was inside the office.
Terzo turned his head towards the door, glancing at Secondo before directing a warm smile your way. "Secondo," he started, turning his gaze back to him. "I apologize for not waiting, but a sibling informed me you were in a lunch meeting, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem to come in."
Secondo chuckled lightly. "Nessun problema, Terzo," he replied, making his way into the office. "Cosa ti porta qui?"
"Solo alcune questioni da discutere e..." he paused, shifting his gaze in your direction. "Are you busy, fratello? I can come back later if you and Deacon were in the middle of something important."
Secondo glanced over his shoulder, and you responded with a gentle smile. "We..." He turned his body towards you, bringing the office door with him and briefly closing it behind him.
"We can talk later, don't worry," you reassured him in a soft tone as your eyes connected with his.
Secondo nodded, bringing his body closer to yours. His gaze alternated between your eyes and your lips, creating a subtle tension in the air. He took a deep breath, and you instinctively held yours, creating a moment of profound silence as you faced each other. His hand, having left the doorknob, gently cupped your cheek. In a tender gesture, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of the gesture lingering for what felt like an eternity.
Secondo withdrew his hand gently off your cheek, leaving you with a subtle shiver and a lingering yearning for the warmth of his touch. His gaze held yours, as if concealing untold sentiments, prompting you to tilt your head in curiosity. Secondo chuckled softly, shaking his head, and you responded with a gentle nod while gesturing towards the door. A sigh and a playful eye roll from him made you giggle silently, relishing the special way you both communicated without words.
His hand returned to the doorknob, and he slowly pushed the door open, walking backward into the room without breaking eye contact. Once inside, you bid him a little wave, and with a final glance, he closed the door.
You finally released the breath you were holding, closing your eyes for a moment as a smile painted your face. It was undeniably something new, a novel feeling, but this wasn't the moment for deep contemplation. Composing yourself, you opened your eyes and headed towards the door of your cabinet, conveniently located next to his office. With a swift motion, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you.
As you entered your cabinet, you realized that waiting for Secondo to finish whatever he was doing with Terzo would stretch the afternoon into seemingly endless hours of pure boredom. With everything settled for the ritual, your workload was minimal, and the waiting game became an exercise in patience.
The minutes dragged on, and you found yourself organizing your cabinet, rearranging things as a distraction from the persistent anticipation. However, the waiting made concentration difficult. Your thoughts kept circling back to what Secondo wanted to discuss, creating a feeling of uncertainty that hung heavily in the quiet space.
In an attempt to quell the restlessness, you picked up a few documents, but your mind struggled to focus. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation and making the afternoon feel interminable. The hours ahead stretched before you, laden with the weight of waiting.
After pacing back and forth in your cabinet for a while, you returned to your desk, sinking into your chair with a sigh. However, before you could settle in, a distinct knock echoed through your door. You turned your head towards it, recognizing it as his unmistakable pattern.
Swiftly getting up from your chair, you made your way to the door connecting your cabinet to his office. With a smooth motion, you opened it, revealing him on the other side.
"Hi," you greeted as your eyes locked.
Secondo casually lifted an arm, supporting it on the doorframe, leaning slightly in your direction. "Hi," he replied, his gaze focused on you.
The closeness of his presence prompted a subtle blush, but you composed yourself, taking a deep breath. "Was everything okay with Terzo?" you asked.
"SĂŹ," he nodded. "Niente di importante." His gaze held yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. Secondo straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a step closer. "Can we continue our talk?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and something you couldn't quite decipher.
You nodded. "Of course, Secondo. Let's talk."
As you gestured for him to enter your cabinet, he caught your wrist, leading you into his office. With his free hand, he closed the door behind you.
"Deacon," he said, however, before he could begin, a distinct knock echoed through the room. Secondo tried to ignore it, intending to continue the conversation, but another knock interrupted once again. "Not again," an exasperated sigh escaped Secondo. "Come with me, let them knock," he took you by the hand, steering you towards the archive room of his office.
âWhat are we doing here? We could have stayed at the office, whoever it was wouldn't come in,â your grip on his hand got firm. âI can smell the dust from this place,â you chuckled as he closed the door.
"I've been lying to you," he confessed, his words tumbling out rapidly.
Your eyes widened in surprise and nervousness. "Huh? What? What do you mean?" you inquired, the anxiety evident in your voice. "What are you saying? Lying to me? Since when? About what?"
"Let me explain," he sighed. "I've been lying to you because there was no date, no one else. It was just an excuse."
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? An excuse for what?"
He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening. "I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to take you on a date, but I didn't know how to do it without making things awkward. So, I said I had a date because I got nervous. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship or make you uncomfortable, I also couldn't bear the thought of you saying 'no'."
"That's quite a revelation," your voice dropped to a hushed tone, your eyes widening in understanding. "So, all those 'practice' sessions were just a pretext?"
Secondo nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bear the thought of hearing you reject me. The pain would be greater than finding myself in heaven instead of hell."
"Secondo, your honesty means a lot to me," you said in a low tone. "But, I'm confused. Why didn't you just ask?"
He paused before responding. "I was afraid it would change everything between us, and I didn't want to risk losing you. I thought this approach would give me a chance to muster the courage to speak up, but it didn't until now, or yesterday. The fact that I have kissed you the way I did, and hearing you calling it as a 'mistake' made feel like if I had ruined everything. When deep down... All I wanted was you to see a different side of me, to understand me better, and maybe... I don't know... see me? Admitting it now makes me feel foolish."
"Don't say that," you took a deep breath. "Secondo, you should have just asked me. You're not going to lose me, and you don't need excuses. I'm sorry for calling the kiss a mistake, but I thought it was based on the fact that you had a 'date' and I was trying to ignore the fact that I wanted that, that I wanted to kiss you, but I was telling myself how wrong it was to want you. But if you asked me on a date before, I would have said 'yes'."
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You mean all of that?"
"Yes," you said, your smile tender. "Well, initially, I'd might be a bit shocked, perhaps a little surprised if you called me on a date. I'd probably even think you were just being funny," you giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest and caressing it. "But, without a doubt, I would have said 'yes' because spending time with you is always good."
Secondo's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "Forgive me for being selfish," he said with sincerity.
A warm smile graced your lips. "Consider it forgiven."
Secondo's eyes searched yours, uncertainty reflecting in his gaze. "So, you'd go on a date with me?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.
With a playful smile, you reached up, gently cupping his face, and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips. As you pulled away from the kiss, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, I guess that answers your question, Secondo," you teased. "But only if you promise to not practice with me anymore."
He laughed. "Bene. No more practice, just real ones with you."
You nodded, and as the distance between you and Secondo closed, your lips found each other in a tender and sweet kiss. His hand, which had been holding yours, traced a path from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Simultaneously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth motion of his lips against yours.
The kiss unfolded in a slow and sweet rhythm, both of you cherishing the tenderness of the moment. As your arms enveloped each other, you could sense Secondo's faint smile against your lips. His hand left the small of your back and moved to your face, cupping it gently as he intensified the kiss. Feeling the warmth of his touch, you tilted your head, inviting him to deepen the connection. However, just as the intensity peaked, he pulled back abruptly and sneezed.
Your expression shifted from a dazed look to a bemused one as you realized the abrupt interruption. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you raised an amused eyebrow.
"Apologies," he managed to say between sneezes, the unexpected reaction making him chuckle heartily. "I guess I've made a wrong choice of place."
You chuckled in response. "Better for us to get out of here then," you said.
"Before we leave," he looked into your eyes, with seriousness and anticipation in his gaze. "I..." he began, causing you to tilt your head, curious about what was on his mind.
"You...?"
Secondo took a deep breath, and the words spilled out, "Would you allow me to take you on a proper date tonight?" A smile played on Secondo's lips, his eyes searching yours for a response.
You felt a flutter in your chest and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. "I would be delighted," you replied, your voice carrying a light teasing tone. "A proper date sounds like a wonderful idea."
Secondo's features softened, and he nodded appreciatively. The depths of his mismatched eyes held your attention. As Secondo leaned in, drawing closer to your face, you closed your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. However, just as you expected the connection to intensify, Secondo paused, pulling back abruptly to sneeze once again.
A laugh bubbled up from within you at the unexpected sneeze, and Secondo raised a questioning brow. He quickly shook his head, placing a finger to his lips in a playful hush. Without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, guiding you out of the archive room.
As you exited the archive room, returning to his office, Secondo gently pulled you closer and pressed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his thumb caressing the spot tenderly. "Can I pick you up at your room later?"
You nodded, a hint of timidity in your response.
Secondo grinned, pressing another kiss onto the back of your hand. He then placed your hand against his cheek, holding it there, cupping your hand with his. "I look forward to it," he replied with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on yours. Secondo's hand lingered, his fingers gently entwining with yours.
"You enjoy making me wait, don't you?" You teased retracting your hand from his face, slowly. "I'll see you later then."
As you turned to leave, Secondo gently caught your hand, pulling you back with a playful smile. "Only a little. Builds anticipation, sĂŹ?"
"I guess I'll have to endure the suspense then," you sighed with a touch of dramatic flair.
Secondo chuckled, gracefully letting go of your hand. "But wait, there's one more thing,"
Your curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What is it?"
Secondo cradled your face delicately with both hands, his touch tender, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, a gentle kiss landed on your forehead, and he looked down at you. "This is good."
"What is good?" you murmured.
"Le tue labbra," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning in for another tender kiss, capturing your lips in a moment of warmth.
The initial kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, as if savoring the taste of a forbidden fruit. It left a lingering sensation of ecstasy. Every touch of the lips sent shivers through both of you, creating an undeniable need for more. Both of you surrendered to that desire, and the kiss intensified, the connection growing deeper.
Secondo's hands, which initially cradled your face, now traced a path down your back, pulling you closer. The tender exploration of lips became more fervent, a dance of passion and longing. His lips moved with deliberate precision, molding against yours as if searching for a perfect fit.
His hands, warm and reassuring, traced gentle paths along your body, creating a sensory map of desire. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Secondo led you to his desk, leaning you against it with a controlled urgency. The kiss became a deeper exploration, his lips demanded more, conveying a hunger that echoed in the shared breaths and mingling sighs.
As the kiss intensified, your bodies pressed together, Secondo's hands explored the curves of your body, his touch gentle yet possessive. You pressed your body even closer to his, a silent invitation for more. Subtly, you spread your legs, granting him more space, and Secondo wasted no time. Almost instantly, he adjusted his position, aligning himself with the new angle.
His hands, now exploring the contours of your thighs, pulled your hips against his, placing your legs around his hips. The sudden shift made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips, as you felt his hardness pressing against the warmth between your legs.
The passion heightened and you found yourself instinctively grinding against him, a subtle and spontaneous movement that drew a low groan from Secondo. The sound reverberated through the room causing you to press your legs around his hips firmly.
Feeling the vibration of your response, Secondo gently pulled away from the kiss, both breathless and dazed. His hands, which had been on your thighs, now migrated to your face. He tilted it, giving him enough space to press a series of wet kisses onto your neck.
The wet warmth of his kisses left a trail of sensations, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you gently pressed your hands against his chest, guiding him away from your neck. Secondo gazed at you with a perplexed expression, prompting a chuckle from you. Closing the distance, you bestowed a tender peck on his lips, causing him to briefly close his eyes.
"If you keep going, our planned date might not happen," you whispered against his lips.
Secondo groaned in frustration. "And why is that?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.
"Because you're jumping straight to how I want the end of our date to be," you replied, biting your lower lip and trailing your hands down to his belly.
Secondo, with a tender smile, continued. "Now I can't wait for the later part of our date then."
You couldn't help but return his smile, "Well, if you manage to behave yourself now, I might just consider it."
He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Behave?" He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the epitome of good behavior, just for you."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. Secondo chuckled, withdrawing his hands from your face and guiding them back to your thighs, where he began to gently caress. His touch lingered for a while before he took a step back, allowing both of you ample space to recompose.
"At what hour should I pick you up?" Secondo asked, scratching the back of his head.
You paused, considering his question. "I don't have any more work today. Nothing urgent. If there's anything left for the ritual, I believe I've already provided it, and everything should be ready, right?"
Secondo smirked, his eyes locking onto yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to check some papers Terzo left for me."
Secondo let out a sigh, his eyes holding yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to review some documents Terzo left for me."
"Oh," you responded with a nod, making your way to his direction. "Certainly, what are you looking for?"
"I'd like you to carefully go through these papers, verify the information, and if any changes or corrections are needed, you know the routine, sĂŹ?" he explained, handing you the documents from his table.
"Absolutely, Secondo," you assured him, taking the papers. "I'll get on it right away. Since I have some work to do, I'll head back to my cabinet to focus on this task."
He reached for your waist, his thumb gently caressing it in small circles. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but you just have to give it a look and see if everything is in order," he stood up, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Now, any preferences for our evening plans?"
You pretended to ponder for a moment. "Hmm, surprise me. Just keep it interesting, and I'm all in."
Secondo nodded, and as you leaned in for a sweet moment, he did the same, resulting in a clumsy meeting of lips at the midpoint, sharing a gentle kiss at the corners of each other's mouths. Pulling back, you chuckled at the minor mishap, noticing Secondo furrowing his brows in annoyance. To prevent a repeat, Secondo cradled your head with both hands, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.
With that, you tilted your head towards him, subtly hinting at the desire for a more substantial kiss, and perhaps you were. Yet, Secondo didn't succumb to your charm. Instead, he gently held your chin and planted a delicate kiss on your lips, almost as if it were a feather-light caress.
You gazed at him, a mix of frustration and pleading in your eyes, your lips forming an almost pout. Secondo chuckled and shook his head. "As you mentioned earlier, we can't skip to the end of the date. Trust me, I'm just as eager to kiss you more. I've waited a long time for this," he admitted with a hint of longing.
"Have you?" you teased, biting your lower lip and looking at him with a mischievous glint. "How long?" you inquired in a hushed tone, leaning in. However, before you could bridge the gap, Secondo interrupted you by gently placing a finger on your lips. "Secâ!"
Before you could finish, he silenced you with a lingering kiss, interrupting your words. You smiled with his lips pressed against yours, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled back. You maintained your smile as his eyes met yours. Secondo hummed in contentment, though a hint in his eyes betrayed the restraint he exercised in not kissing you again as passionately as before. You, too, desired it, especially considering the consequences of that kiss, consequences you weren't sure you were ready to face.
Recognizing the temptation he exuded, you wondered if it was influenced by the power he held as the highest satanic figure in the ministry. It wouldn't be surprising, given his proximity to the Dark Lord. However, there were still tasks to attend to before the date.
Exiting his office, you gave him a wave, and his eyes lingered on you until you reached your cabinet, closing the door behind you. Moving directly to your desk, you neatly placed the papers on it, straightening your posture before settling into your chair.
As you delved into the papers, the initial set seemed routineâstandard proceedings of the ministry that required Secondo's signature. Everything appeared to be in order, so you moved on to the next document. However, the tone shifted when you encountered one discussing retirement. Your focus intensified as the words unfolded a revelation: Secondo was to be replaced by his younger brother, Terzo.
A sense of disbelief settled in as you retraced your steps to the first set of papers, realizing they were meant for the new leader, not Secondo. Continuing to read, the details painted a picture of a succession plan. After the upcoming ritual, Secondo was expected to prepare himself for the transition, handing over the reins to Terzo. The emotions intensifiedâshock, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease. You grappled with the unspoken truth that your moments with Secondo were poised on the edge of a significant change, a change he had kept concealed.
The documents unfolded like chapters in an unexpected narrative, each revelation carrying a weight that settled heavily on your shoulders. The impending succession, the shift in leadership, and the unspoken truths left you in a whirlwind of emotions. As you continued to read, the words became more than ink on paperâthey became the unraveling of a reality you hadn't anticipated. The emotions surged, astonishment, apprehension, and an underlying sense of loss.
As you absorbed the weight of the revelations, indignation surged through you. How could Secondo have given you those papers without a single word of explanation? The sense of betrayal fueled your urgency, and you sprang from your chair, marching toward his office with a storm of emotions brewing within you.
The door swung open forcefully, a loud bang echoing in the room, but to your dismay, all that greeted you was an empty chair. Secondo was nowhere to be found. Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, attempting to rein in the frustration and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. You felt the urge to confront him, to demand an explanation for this clandestine revelation, but reason prevailed. He was cunning, slipping away before you could confront him. However, you knew where to find him â soon enough, he would be in your room.
Resolute, you made your way to the main door of his office, pushing it open and stepping out, leaving behind the empty space. The corridors of the ministry felt like an intricate maze as you navigated through them, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about Secondo's impending retirement. The prospect of not seeing him with the same frequency, the shift in your role as his brother's Deacon, and the nagging question of why he hadn't shared this crucial information occupied your mind. Each step seemed to echo your internal turmoil, and as you approached your room, the heaviness in your heart became more pronounced.
Entering the room, you stripped away your clothes, preparing for a bath to ease the tension that had coiled within you. Submerged in the water, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, letting silent sobs meld with the sound of rushing water.
Emerging from the bath, you draped a towel around your body and returned to the room, contemplating the choice of your outfit. The question lingeredâdid it really matter how you dressed now? Nevertheless, you selected your clothes, arranging them on the bed. Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed inside your room, and you took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining appearances as you made your way towards it.
As you opened the door, there he stood, having changed his clothes already. The familiar scent of his cologne, intensified now, filled the air. The notes of the perfume, a strong blend of cedarwood and musk, lingered, creating an almost palpable atmosphere. He held a small bouquet of tulips in his hand. Though the bouquet consisted of just four tulips, the gesture felt both delicate and meaningful. The scent of the tulips added a layer of floral sweetness, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.
"Would it be better if I return later? I assumed you'd be ready by now," he questioned.
You took a steadying breath, trying to conceal the emotional turbulence as you faced Secondo at the doorway. "No, it's fine," you replied, managing a composed tone. "I was just deciding what to wear."
His grip on the bouquet tightened, betraying an underlying tension that mirrored the unspoken complexities of the situation. "Should I wait outside?" he offered, his eyes reflecting the uncertainty.
Shaking your head, your gaze pierced onto his. "No," your voice emerged slightly raspy. "Come in," you said, stepping away to grant him passage.
He entered your room, and a palpable air of unease enveloped the space. He cautiously closed the door behind him, and you turned away, pretending to focus on selecting an outfit from your wardrobe, although you had already placed the chosen outfit on your bed. The clothes blurred in front of you as you grappled with the turmoil within.
Placing the tulips delicately on the bedside table, Secondo's eyes lingered on the carefully chosen clothes you had laid out. With a subtle smile, he made his way towards you. "I know you've read the papers."
You turned to face him, your eyes revealing a tumult of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me, Secondo?"
He sighed, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right time or the right words. I didn't want to burden you."
Anger, hurt, and confusion battled within you. "So, you thought giving me the papers without a word was the solution?"
He reached for your hand. "No, it wasn't the right way. I should have told you, but I couldn't find a way to."
Inhaling deeply, you briefly covered your face with your hands. "Secondo, please, just be honest with me. What's going on? First, the lies about your date, and now you're keeping things from me. What's really happening?" You implored, uncovering your face as your hands fell away. "We've been friends for a long time, and this isn't like you. Just," you sighed, "tell me what's going on with you."
Secondo met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. âI didnât mean to keep anything from you,â he confessed. âItâs just⊠there are changes, and I wanted to handle them before burdening you with it. But you deserve honesty, and I owe you an explanation.â
You nodded.
"On the day of the lunch meeting, days ago, certain members of the Clergy made a private decision regarding my retirement from the position of Papa Emeritus. I assumed you were unaware, and I thought it best to keep it that way," he began with a heavy sigh. "Later, Terzo confronted me, questioning when I would muster the courage to confess my feelings for you. He believed that simply having you by my side every day would be enough, rather than openly expressing my emotions. This situation compelled me to make a decision, leading to the idea of asking you on a date. However, as you're well aware, it didn't exactly go as planned."
"Okay, I can understand that, but why didn't you tell me about your retirement?" you pressed.
"I was afraid it would make no difference at all, that you wouldn't care about who comes and goes. After all, it's just work, sĂŹ?" Secondo responded. "And if you did care, I was afraid of what that could possibly mean."
"No, it's not just work, Secondo. It's you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "Of course, it makes a difference. You're not just a colleague; you're my friend, the person I cherish the most in this Ministry. And now, you are... someone I... I'm seeing as more than just a friend."
Secondo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with a soft intensity. "Pasticcina," he began gently, "I should have been more transparent with you. I didn't want to burden you with the weight of it, but I see now that I made a mistake."
You met his gaze, emotions flickering in your eyes. "It's not just about work for me, Secondo. You're not just a passing presence."
He reached out, cupping your cheek tenderly. "You mean a lot to me too," he confessed, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "And it terrifies me to think that my decisions could jeopardize what we share."
"We share so much, and this is a significant part of your life," you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand offering solace. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to share this with me sooner."
"I know, pasticcina. I should have," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I see now that it was a mistake. I was foolish to think it wouldn't matter to you."
"It matters, Secondo. You matter," with a fragile smile, you whispered, "I don't want to lose you, Secondo. Not as a friend, not as... something more."
He sighed, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "You won't lose me. I may be retiring from this position, but I'm not going anywhere, especially not from your life."
You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt firmly. "I care about you, Secondo. More than I've allowed myself to admit. You mean more to me than I let myself acknowledge."
Secondo pulled back slightly, holding you at arm's length. "You are important to me, more than you realize."
"When did you find out about Terzo assuming the role of Papa Emeritus?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.
"I always knew," Secondo confessed, his hands sliding to yours, gently holding them. "It's like we all have an expiration date," he added, a wistful smile gracing his lips. Your chuckle echoed in the air, and he responded with a tender smile. "There you go... That's how I like to see you, con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso."
You sighed heavily, pulling him back to you and guiding his hands to your back. Obediently, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled your face onto his chest. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to the scent of his cologne, letting it envelop your senses.
"Mi dispiace," he uttered. "I promise I won't hide anything from you again."
"I knew that you'd retire from your role as Papa Emeritus at some point, Secondo. After all, I'm part of the Clergy," you whispered, your face pressed against his chest. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon, or that it would hurt me so much to see you go."
"Mi dispiace..." he whispered in a very low tone, almost inaudible.
"It's fine," you turned your face to him. "I understand you didn't do it to hurt me or anything like that. I know you well enough to understand why you made those decisions. But I also want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. You never had to," you said with a sweet smile on your face as you gently pulled away from the embrace. "But we have a date, right? Well, we've already had a couple of them, but today is an official one. So let's focus on us tonight, and tomorrow morning we can go back to being Papa Emeritus and Deacon."
"You're right, pasticcina," he acknowledged with a nod. "Tonight, let's concentrate solely on us and nothing else." Taking one of your hands, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of it. "Are you going to get dressed now?"
"Hm?" you looked down, noticing you were still wrapped in a towel. "Oh! Yes!" you chuckled, heading towards the bed.
Secondo tracked your movements, approaching you. "Are you planning to wear those?"
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding as you gathered the clothes from the bed. "But, why? Why do you ask?" A touch of nervousness tinged your inquiry. "Is there an issue?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "You'll look stunning in those, and I can't wait to see it."
"Secondo..." you said, turning to him with a shy smile.
The room fell into a hushed silence, and neither of you uttered a word. As you both stood there, locked in a silent exchange, Secondo moved decisively. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrist, drawing you closer to him. Your body collided against his, and in an unexpected turn, his lips fervently met yours. With widened eyes, you observed the shift from initial intensity to a more tender expression, his hands finding their way to your waist.
Secondo's hands held you firmly, conveying a sense of security as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you surrendered to the dance of tongues as his traced the contours of your lips. Your response was instinctive, parting your lips to welcome him. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his body against yours intensified the moment. His lips moved with practiced finesse, and the soft dance of his skilled tongue on yours cast a spell, leaving you under its bewitching allure.
The warmth of his body enveloped you, and the moment intensified as he continued to explore you with his hands. His touch, both firm and gentle, sent shivers down your spine as he traced intricate patterns on your back. Breaths mingled, sighs of surrender punctuated the air. His lips brushed yours, a delicate dance that evolved into passionate bites.
Your arms gracefully left his neck, and your hands descended to his chest, gently caressing it. As your fingers traced patterns, you felt the exposed part of his chest beneath your touch, as if he remembered what you had told him. A silent chuckle escaped you amidst the entwined kiss, one hand now delicately resting on the exposed skin.
Secondo gently withdrew from the kiss, creating a subtle distance while keeping his face intimately close to yours, his lips lingering in a tantalizing proximity. "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing," you chuckled, "I just can't help but find it amusing how you manage to be both charming and a tease all at once," your fingers trailed lightly along the contours of his chest as you replied. âAt least I find your teasing quite delightful, Secondo.â
He grinned, leaning in closer. âDelightful, sĂŹ?â His lips grazed yours with a tantalizing touch.
You playfully bit your lower lip. âVery.â
His breath hitched, and he murmured, âIs it fine to keep going?â
With a seductive smirk, you asked, âIs it fine to lose the date plans?â
Secondoâs eyes gleamed with desire. âPlans can be changed,â he confessed, his voice low and provocative. âWeâve had our dates, even if they werenât official. I believe itâs time to skip to the part where we honor our Dark Lord.â
"I guess it is," a mischievous glint mirrored in your eyes as you agreed.
Secondo executed a swift turn, guiding you toward the bed, causing you to walk backward until the plush mattress greeted your calves. Secondoâs hand skillfully lifted your leg, and his other hand moved to the back of your head. In one fluid motion, he laid you down on the bed. As you looked at him standing before you, a hint of desire lingering in the air, you couldnât help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. His gaze smoldering with intensity. He looked down at you, a commanding presence that sent shivers down your spine.
"What do we have here?" he purred, his voice low and demanding.
You met his gaze, your eyes filled with desire. "Just a willing Deacon, Secondo," you replied, a playful edge to your tone. Lifting one leg, you placed it on his thigh, delicately caressing it with your foot.
He crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours. "Willing, you say?" His hand traced a path along your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping. "Very willing."
A wicked grin played on Secondo's lips as he asserted, "Bene. Because tonight, you're mine," his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory glint. "Confess your sins to your Papa, what do you desire most in this moment?"
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a surge of arousal coursing through you. "I desire you, Secondo," you confessed, your voice laced with longing.
He grinned, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern on your skin. "That's what I like to hear, "his hands explored your body with confident precision, leaving no inch untouched. "I want you to say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
A mischievous smile played on your lips as you teased, âSay what, Secondo?â
His eyes darkened with desire. âSay youâre mine.â
A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded in agreement. "Yours, Secondo."
As you spoke, a devilish grin spread across Secondo's face. With a swift movement, his hand reached your face, closing the remaining gap between you two. In an unspoken agreement, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.
Inhaling deeply, your hands found their way to the back of his head, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Secondo lowered his body, creating an intimate connection as the warmth of his form pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat embrace.
A blaze seemed to ignite within you as the heat of his body melded with yours, prompting you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. Your hands traced over his back, fingers dancing along the contours of his muscles, exploring every inch of him in a fervent exploration.
Secondo's tongue delicately probed your lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth. The kiss intensified as he navigated every corner with his tongue. His arms ventured down, enveloping you and keeping you pressed against his firm chest. You could feel a growing bulge pressed against your stomach, sending a thrilling sensation coursing through your body.
A wave of pleasure surged through you as his tongue entwined with yours, eliciting a soft moan. The kiss deepened, reflecting the growing intensity of his desire. In response, you moved your hips against him, prompting a low groan to escape from him. He reached for your hips, pulling you firmly against him, now guiding the rhythm as he moved in tandem with your body. Your hands descended, gripping his firm backside, pulling him even closer to you. Slowly and deliberately, you parted your legs, inviting him to settle himself between them.
Complying with your desire, Secondo pressed himself more firmly between your legs, grinding his hardness against you.The increased pressure caused you to arch your back and neck, breaking the kiss as a soft moan escaped your lips. Sensations of arousal and heightened sensitivity coursed through your body.
Secondo trailed his nose and lips along your neck until he reached your lips. He pressed a lingering kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, pulling it in a soft bite before releasing it. When you turned your eyes to him, you found him grinning devilishly.
"I want you," you murmured, your voice low and husky.
He nodded, a gaze filled with desire in his eyes as his hand reached for the towel that somehow still clung to you. Casting a silent question in his look, you gave a nod in approval. Without hesitation, Secondo swiftly removed the towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.
The towel fell to the floor as Secondo positioned himself on his knees between your legs. His eyes traced every curve of your body while his hands followed the same path. Completely focused on your form, Secondo's firm touch left you melting beneath him. His hands journeyed from your chest to your belly before reaching down to caress both legs simultaneously, prompting you to part them even further. His gaze was enchanted by the unfolding view, causing him to bite his lower lip in an effort to stifle a groan.
You settled your legs on his thighs, sitting in front of him on the bed. Your face moved to his neck, planting kisses while your hands worked to unbutton his shirt. His hands guided you to his lap, bringing your bodies intimately together. Sensing his hardness pressed against you, you couldnât resist the temptation to grind against it. The friction heightened, and you felt the heat intensify between your legs.
"Pasticcina..." he moaned, closing his eyes, his hands gripping your hips firmly.
The intensity of your kisses on his neck increased, each tender caress leaving a trail of lust. His breath hitched with the rising passion, and you could feel the vibrations in his throat as he hummed in response to the sensations you were creating. You brushed your lips along his neck, tracing a delicate path until you reached his ear, where you nibbled on the lobe with a gentle tease. The tension in his body palpable as he groaned in pleasure. Pulling you closer, he pressed his hardness against you, his breath growing labored as he fought to maintain control. Swiftly, as you moved your head back to continue the kisses on the other side of his neck, he took charge, laying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, restraining your hands above your head.
Your eyes lingered on his body, tracing the contours of his muscular form. The sight of his physique, with a hint of a belly, didn't fail to stir desire within you. His chest, firm and adorned with chest hair that connected to the belly, drew your attention until it disappeared beneath his pants. The raw masculinity of his physique fueled the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but moan softly. The sight made you try to move your hands to touch him, only to remember he was holding them together. You turned your eyes to stare at him, and Secondo had a playful smile on his lips.
"What's funny?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your tone.
"Your face," he chuckled.
"Excuse me?" you demanded, attempting to free your hands from his grip.
Secondo lowered his face, closing the distance between your lips. "Your face," he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. "It's almost entirely painted in black," he continued whispering. "Because of my neck..." he licked your lips, coaxing you to part them slightly, giving him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately.
As Secondo released your hands, he shifted his focus, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, his warm lips exploring every inch of your skin. His journey continued down your chest, leaving a trail of desire until he reached your belly. Without hesitation, he ventured lower, between your legs, his strong hands spreading them gently. Secondo's touch explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The gentle yet firm caresses heightened the anticipation, and you could sense his warm breath against your skin as he inched closer to your wetness.
His eyes locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of desire and determination. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raspy with need. "I need to taste you," he declared, his lips beginning to explore your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he inched closer to your core. "I need to see the way you respond to my touch."
"P-please..." your plea escaped your lips in a desperate whisper.
He smiled against your skin, a glint of desire in his eyes. "You're so willing," he remarked, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.
Your moans filled the air as his tongue traced the contours of your core, your hips instinctively arching from the bed in response to the electrifying sensation. Unfazed, he took his time, savoring every inch of you, his tongue exploring and teasing your sensitive skin. With expert precision, he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your moans escalated with the relentless stimulation of his tongue around your clit. The desire to urge him not to stop lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the mutual groans exchanged between you and Secondo were testament enough. Overcome with pleasure, you trembled as one of his hands descended slowly to your entrance. A gasp escaped you as you clenched around nothing.
He descended, his mouth trailing towards your core. Using his fingers to part your entrance, he delved in with his tongue, exploring your inner walls with fervor. Your eyes fluttered backward in pleasure as Secondo intensified the pressure, his nose teasing your clit with each movement of his head. Deeper he went, tasting and savoring your essence. Pulling back momentarily to relish the sensation, he returned, this time focusing his mouth on your clit while his fingers met your entrance again.
A soft whine escaping your lips as Secondo continued to tease you. His fingers rubbed your entrance, a torturous trail up to your clit, trapping it gently between his fingers. "Just put it in, please, Secondo," you begged.
As he continued to suck and lick on your clit, Secondo slipped a finger inside you, curling it upwards to find your sweet spot. A gasp escaped your lips as he hit it, and he hummed contentedly. Relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, he sucked on your clit harder, causing your body to shake. Not satisfied with just one finger, he added another, thrusting them faster and harder. The intense sensations overwhelmed you as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers moved vigorously inside you, making you so wet that he could easily slide them in and out.
"You're..." you breathed, contorting your body. "You're... going to-ah!"
Secondo slid his fingers out from inside you and gave a final slow, torturous long lick on your wetness, his nose rubbing against your clit. "I'm going...?" he inquired as he supported his chin on your pubic mound.
You looked at his painted face, a mixture of grey and black and white due to your wetness. One of your hands went to his face, stroking his lips with your thumb as you attempted to clean it. "You're going..." your voice turned into a whimper as Secondo parted his lips, licking your thumb. "Secondo... You're going to make me cum..."
He grinned and shifted his weight, hovering over you. "I want to make you cum," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm going to make you cum so hard that coherent thoughts escape you. Do you want that, pasticcina?" he questioned, his voice low and husky, seeking confirmation.
You could only nod in response, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless. His fingers moved down your body, eliciting shivers, and a gasp escaped your lips as they found your clit, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. Your moans filled the room, hips instinctively responding to his touch. You reached down and grabbed his hand pressing it harder against your core.
With a teasing grin, he pulled his hand away and rose from the bed, making you whimper im frustration. His eyes locked onto yours as he began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, smirking slightly.
"I'm thinking about how much I want you."
A confident grin playing on his lips. "You won't have to wait much longer," he teased, letting his shirt drop to the floor.
Secondo unbuttoned his pants, maintaining the intense gaze between you. With a seductive smile, he let them slide down, revealing more of him. He stepped out of the pants, leaving him standing there completely exposed. You gasped at the sight, His member sprang free, hard and throbbing with desire. He stand there for a moment letting you take in sight of him. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, and sitting on the bed, you licked your lips. Extending your hand, you ran it up his thigh, sensing the muscles respond to your touch. As your fingers traced upward, they encircled his member. Initiating a gentle stroke.
"Mmm... That feels good," he moaned at the contact, his head falling back.
Your hand continuing to stroke him. You felt him twitch in your hand, and you watched as a drop of precum formed at the tip. You leaned down and licked it off, savoring the salty taste. âI agree,â you murmured, biting your lower lip as your gaze locked onto him.
He emitted a deep groan, his hips involuntarily rising towards your touch. With a smile, you leaned down, enveloping him with your mouth. His loud moan filled the room as you sucked on him, your tongue dancing around the tip of his member. His hands reached out, holding your head as he gently guided your movements, urging you on with needy moans. Each swirl of your tongue and every suction made him growl.
"Enough," he gasped, his voice strained with longing and restraint. "I need to be inside you."
With a fluid motion, you straightened your body, your hands gliding from his thighs to his chest, relishing the sensation of his hair brushing against your palms. As your hands reached his shoulders, you enveloped his neck with your arms, feeling the strength of his grip on your hips as he drew you nearer. The heat between you intensified, radiating from his body as his hardness pressed against your stomach.
"I think I can arrange that for you," you whispered.
Secondoâs hands trailed down your sides as he guided you to recline on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. With a graceful movement, he positioned himself above you, his body covering yours.
"I want to see your face as I enter you," he whispered, his voice low with desire. "I want to make you moan and writhe beneath me, to lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you," he added. "I want to hear your cries as I look you in the eyes," Secondo continued, his voice low and seductive.
You nodded, rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment as you awaited for him. Feeling the tip of him parting your folds, you quivered with anticipation. With a controlled movement, Secondo pressed the tip of his member against your entrance, his gaze ablaze with primal desire as he gradually eased himself into you. In one seamless motion, he filled you completely, stretching you.
"Oh, Satan..." you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper. "...So good," your hands instinctively found their way to his back, your fingertips digging into his skin.
As he started to move within you, a shudder of ecstasy rippled through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. His movements were deliberate. With a hypnotic rhythm, his hips moved in synchrony, exploring every inch of your being with a fervent determination. His hands trailed down your sides, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake, heightening the sensations pulsating through your body.
Leaning down, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate as he claimed you with the same intensity that he was claiming your body. You surrendered to the fervor of his lips on yours and of your bodies pressed together. Each brush of his mouth against yours ignited a wildfire of lust, consuming you. As the intensity of the kiss peaked, Secondo pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
"Youâre so beautiful," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with desire as he gazed into your eyes, his hands tenderly caressing your face. "I want to be the one to make you scream my name," he whispered. "I want to be the one who makes you forget everything else in this world."
"Make me scream for your name," you whispered, your voice a sultry invitation. "Take me. Claim me as yours."
With a deep, primal growl, Secondo's movements became slow and deliberate. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. As his tongue entwined with yours, the intensity of the kiss deepened. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a reverence that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you. Unable to contain the ecstasy building within you, you moaned into his mouth as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his hands and lips.
Breaking the kiss, Secondoâs heated gaze lingered on your lips before trailing down your body. With a low, lustful growl, he whispered, "You're intoxicating, irresistible, just like the flames of Satan himself."
Secondo shifted his weight, supporting himself on his hands planted firmly on the bed. His eyes remained locked with yours. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his arms, gripping them as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself to him completely. As you tightened around his member, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. With a fluid motion, he lowered his body onto yours, his weight pressing against you.
With a ragged breath, Secondo whispered hoarsely. "Cazzo, don't do that. Don't make yourself tighter than you already are..." His forehead pressed against yours, his voice filled with desire and restraint. "Merda, you take my cock so well."
You gasped at his words. "Ah-! And you fill me so good," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you met his gaze with fervor. "Fuck me, Secondo, faster."
Secondo's lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. "I want to devour you," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with need. "To lose myself in you."
"You feel so good inside me... I need to feel every inch of you," you said breathlessly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear.
"Then take all of me," he growled, moving his hands to your hips.
As he started to thrust his hips with growing intensity, the sensation of his fullness overwhelmed you. Each movement inside you was palpable, igniting a pleasure that bordered on unbearable. The rhythmic motion of his thrusts filled the room with the sound of your bodies moving together, mingling with the heady scent of arousal that hung in the air. With each breath, your lungs filled heavier, matching the increasing pace of his thrusts, driven by the rhythm of your bodies.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice hoarse with desire. "Yes, yes, just like that, Secondo! Don't stop!"
He intensified his movements, his hips thrusting faster and harder with each passionate stroke. The echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated throughout the room, a testament to the intensity of his desire as he pounded into you relentlessly. With each thrust, the pleasure within you surged, every inch of him filling you with a sensation that drove you crazy.
Moans escaped your lips with every rhythmic thrust, your body responding eagerly to his fervent thrusts. You felt the heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight bearing down on you as he held you close with an unyielding grip on your hips. The sound of his ragged breath mingled with yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronizing with your own in a primal dance of passion and lust.
You gasped out his name, your voice a breathless plea for more. "Yes, Secondo," you moaned, "Don't stop... I need you."
Secondo's response was a growl of approval, his movements becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely. "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours," he whispered huskily. "Completely and utterly yours."
The intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you, each sensation magnified by the heat and weight of his body atop yours. Despite the almost unbearable ecstasy coursing through you, the feeling of him inside you was intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more.
With a fluid motion, you wrapped your arms around Secondo's neck and your legs around his hips, shifting the positions effortlessly. Rolling your body with grace, you laid him down on the bed before positioning yourself on top of him. As you placed your hands on his chest, lifting your body to gaze down at him, Secondo's eyes widened in awe, his gaze fixed on you.
"What?" you chuckled softly as you ran your hands along his torso, caressing the contours of his chest with gentle strokes.
His breath caught in his throat as your touch sent shivers of pleasure racing through him. "You're... breathtaking," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with awe. "I can't believe you're real."
You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, I'm very real," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "And I'm all yours."
With a playful grin, you withdrew your face just out of Secondo's reach, teasing him as he attempted to close the gap between you. Lowering your hand, you seized his hardness, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Secondo's hands found their way to your waist, guiding you as you slowly positioned yourself above him.
You lowered yourself onto him, feeling the tip of his member parting your folds as it slid deep into you. A moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Secondo's hands tightened around your backside, gripping it firmly as he pulled you down onto him, meeting your movements with urgent thrusts of his own.
"Ah!" you moaned. "Fuck, Secondo! Oh fuck! Just like that, yes yes, don't stop," you cried out, your words a passionate plea for more.
You felt the firm grip of his hands on your ass, holding and pulling you down onto him with each powerful thrust. The intensity of his hardness inside you grew with every stroke, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. As he filled you completely, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body.
With a desperate need for more, you rolled your hips on top of him, seeking out additional friction and stimulation. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.
"I'm going to cum," you whimpered, your hips moving faster in search of release. "I'm going to cum, Secondo, please make me cum," you pleaded, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."
"Cum for me," Secondo pleaded, his voice filled with longing as he urged you to let go and release yourself. "I want to feel you cumming around me."
You cried out, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as the pleasure reached its peak. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, allowing it to consume you in a blissful haze of sensation and desire.
"I'm cumming," you moaned, your voice raw with desire as the pleasure crashed over you.
Your body tensed and convulsed around him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. With a final, deep thrust, he slammed his hips hard against you, anchoring you in place. His member twitched inside you, pulsating with the force of his release, and you moaned in ecstasy as you felt him empty himself deep within you.
The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. It took all your strength to hold on to him as the aftershocks rippled through your body, leaving you trembling in their wake. Your body collapsed on top of his, both of you breathing heavily and fast.
With tenderness in his touch, Secondo's hand left your backside and trailed gently along the curve of your back until it reached your head. He gently guided your face towards his, his tired smile reflecting the exhaustion and satisfaction. As his lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a sense of contentment washed over you both. With a deep sigh, Secondo laid his back against the pillows.
With a hesitant start, you broke the silence. "So... What was the original plan for tonight?"
His gaze softened as he replied, "I was going to take you out for dinner." He traced patterns on your back as he continued, "Give you the flowers, we would have a nice talk, eat some delicious food, enjoy a drink," his voice trailed off wistfully, "and if you wanted to, we could end up with a kiss..."
"A kiss?" you echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was that part of the plan too?"
He met your gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Only if you wanted it too."
You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "Do you think we could still salvage the first part of our date?"
"I'd love to," he replied, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "However, I don't think it's possible because I had reservations for us, and I think we may have lost the hour."
"You think?" You playfully arched a brow. "That's fine," you reassured him with a smile. "At least we had dessert."
He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Am I dessert now?"
You grinned mischievously. "The most delightful one."
With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned closer. "Come here then, let me give you another taste of it."
Secondo shifted his body on top of yours, his touch gentle as he cupped your cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your skin. With a softness that belied the intensity of the moment, his lips found yours in a tender kiss.
Grammar
Quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini - Those silly old men
Pasticcina - Little pastry
Impressionante - Impressive
SĂŹ - Yes
Grazie - Thank you
Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo - Genuine, attentive, and considerate. I can do that
Mi dispiace - I'm sorry
Nessun problema - No problem
Cretino - Idiot
Bene - Good
Molto bene - Very good
Cosa ti porta qui? - What brings you here?
Solo alcune questioni da discutere e... - Just some matters to discuss, and...
Fratello - Brother
Niente di importante - Nothing important
Le tue labbra - Your lips
Con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso - With that pretty smile on your face
Absolutely breathtaking, stunning, perfect and hot af... I NEED THIS MAN IN MY FUCKING LIFE PLEASE.
The writing as always impeccable, so tastefully done, you have such a way with words my friend. I need to live in your fics because honestly that was so immersive... IT IS A NEED!!!!
And thank you as always for the food, we are not worthy of your geniusâ€ïž
Thank you so much my darling for reading it and I'm so glad you enjoyed it. I guess that at the end of the day we all need Secondo at some point, I'd be so weak for him if I could have this man in my life, oh dear Lord...
Thank you a lot for your kindness, I'm glad to hear that they are immersive, that makes a lot of difference for me and it also brings me some peace as this is what I want.
You're welcome for the food, I'm here for it! And I'm not a genius! And you guys are worth of my silly things because all I wanna do is share them with y'all.
Silent bonds: Papa Emeritus II x AFAB!Reader (4 Chapters in 1 Post)
Summary: You and Secondo have shared a lasting friendship since he became the Papa Emeritus II. As he immerses himself in preparations for an impending date, latent feelings begin to surface, raising the question of whether your relationship can evolve beyond friendship.
Words: 26.401
Warnings: Light Angst (insecurity) | Fluff | Smut (teasing; cunnilingus; fingering; oral sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Italian swearing | Swearing | Reader is described as AFAB, but "Deacon" is used as Gender Neutral term.
Available on AO3 divided by 4 Chapters
A rhythmic knock resonated through the door connecting your office to the Papa's, drawing your attention away from the papers on your desk. Given the hour, it wasn't unexpected for him to seek you out for more tasks or discussions. With a deep breath, you acknowledged the familiar sound with a smile, allowing yourself a brief stretch to ease the tension in your back and eyes.
"Enter," you uttered, rising from your chair.
Upon the door's creaking open, he peered into your cabinet, scanning the space until his eyes rested on you. Secondo, the Papa Emeritus II from the Ministry where you worked as a Deacon, had been a close friend for many years. While others might find the idea of being friends with Secondo peculiar, you saw nothing odd about it. Being his friend wasn't strange; it was a privilege. Secondo was sweet, funny, caring, a bit of a teaser, and remarkably intelligent. People often mistook him for someone serious, devoid of humor, or as someone who seldom smiled, but you knew better. The Secondo you were friends with was far from those misconceptions.
Yet, today, something felt different. Typically, a smile would grace his lips when his eyes met yours upon entering your cabinet. As he stepped inside, you circled your table, coming to a stop with one hand on the desk and the other on your waist, observing him approaching. Without a word, he slumped into one of the chairs facing your desk. A silent chuckle escaped you as you turned towards him. No words were necessary; a tilt of your head conveyed the inquiry, prompting him to throw his head back in annoyance, the frustration evident in the sound he made.
"So...?" A soft chuckle escaped you as you playfully nudged his calf with your foot, prompting him to lift his head and meet your gaze.
Secondo settled more comfortably into the chair, offering you a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I won't forgive you for not showing up," he muttered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.
You gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your chest. "How dare you?"
"No, how dare you not come," he retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Someone has to do the important work," you teased, smirking.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "And I suppose that someone is you, sĂŹ?"
You grinned, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps," he repeated with a nod.
You leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing your arms. "How was the lunch?"
"Same as usual, Deacon. Endless discussions about the future of the Ministry. Nothing out of the ordinary," he sighed.
"And what about the Clergy today?"
"The Clergy... quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini," he grumbled, frustration etching lines on his face. "You really can't keep skipping the lunch meetings."
A defiant smirk played on your lips as you replied, "Oh, I can, and I will. None of them can utter a single objection, and I'll make sure of it."
Secondo's lips curled into a wry smile, a certain amusement glinting in his eyes as he listened to your words. It reminded you of the times he had praised your steadfast demeanor, expressing his admiration for how you refused to be intimidated, especially by the imposing figures of the Clergy. He had commended your ability to wield your authority confidently, acknowledging the power you held and the way you wielded it.
"Your defiance is a rare trait," Secondo remarked, his tone a mix of approval and amusement.
You chuckled, appreciating Secondo's words. "Well, I learned from the best," you quipped, giving him a sly look.
Secondo's laughter resonated, and he nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze to a distant corner, his eyes taking on a contemplative expression as if lost in thought. "Ah!" Secondo exclaimed, a sudden realization lighting up his features.
"What!?"
Rising from the chair, Secondo turned toward the door. "Follow me to my office."
Following Secondo, you walked toward the door linking your cabinet to his office. As the Deacon of the Ministry, your closer collaboration with him was an unspoken privilege. However, he'd never admit to such favoritism, even to you. Your role as a Deacon involved working closely with higher-ranking members, including the Papa Emeritus, to implement organizational goals and initiatives.
Your role within the Ministry was multifaceted, blending administrative prowess with a deep understanding of the sacred rituals and traditions. Your responsibilities extended beyond mere paperwork, delving into the intricacies of maintaining the Ministry's sanctity and efficiency. With each document meticulously scrutinized, you ensured that the delicate balance between tradition and progress was upheld. Your work bore the weight of the Ministry's legacy, and you navigated through the bureaucracy with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.
At least, that was the explanation Secondo would offer to anyone questioning potential privileges, underlining the professional nature of your connection.
Reaching for the door, Secondo stood beside it, gesturing for you to enter his office. With a nod of gratitude, you stepped inside, and he followed, leaving the door ajar. Moving from behind you, Secondo approached his desk, while you stood closer to the door, observing him as he sifted through folders atop his desk.
"More work for me?" you inquired with curiosity.
"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I need you to wrap up those files for the upcoming ritual."
"Oh!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to his desk, hands tucked behind your back. "Of course, Papa."
"We've talked about this; stop calling me Papa," he said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "Papa is reserved for public moments. You know I'm fine with you using my name when it's just us, as we always have."
"Alright," you said, bringing your hands to rest on his desk, leaning slightly. "Se-con-do," you playfully spelled out his name, causing him to huff, and you suppressed a silent giggle.
"That's better," he said, extending a folder towards you.
"Is it?" you asked, with a mocking tone.
"The folder," he reminded, gesturing with the document in his hand.
"For when do you need those?" you inquired, your fingers lightly tapping on the edge of his desk.
"Tonight would be ideal," he said, glancing up at you. "We need everything in order before the Clergy starts poking their noses where they don't belong."
"I'll ensure everything is organized," you started. "But, can't it be for tomorrow morning, Papa?"
"Pasticcina..." he uttered your nickname with a serious tone. He didn't use it often, but when he did, there were hidden meanings, and you had grown accustomed to interpreting them based on the tone he employed.
"Fine," you replied, turning your back and making your way back to your cabinet. The sound of him clearing his throat halted your steps, prompting you to turn back. "Yes?"
He met your gaze. "I know you'll finish those tonight. If there's someone who can do it, that one is you, sĂŹ?"
You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, Pa-pa," you lingered on his title, relishing the pronunciation, before stepping back into your cabinet and closing the door behind you.
You returned to your desk, knowing that the remainder of the afternoon would be consumed by the documents from the folder he had given you. Yet, it was within the scope of your duties at the Ministry, so there was no room for complaints. Besides, you were assisting a friend, and that fact alone made the task more bearable.
Placing the folder on your desk, you sighed as you glanced at the other ones you had already started reading and organizing. It promised to be a long afternoon. With a deliberate exhale, you settled into your chair, redirecting your attention to the documents you were checking before Secondo entered your cabinet. Determination fueled your focus as you aimed to complete them before tackling the new files he had entrusted to you.
As the hours passed, the ambient light in your office shifted from the warm glow of the afternoon to the subdued hues of evening. The rhythmic tick of the clock on your wall was a steady companion as you delved into the complexities of your tasks. Lost in the labyrinth of paperwork, you were only stirred by the soft knock on your door linked to Secondo's office.
You raised your head to look at the door, and the realization that night had settled outside your window dawned upon you. You sighed, feeling the strain in your shoulders, and stretched your back, the subtle crackle providing momentary relief, before rubbing your eyes.
"Come in," you said with a tired voice, followed by a yawn.
As the door opened, Secondo stepped inside, his discerning eyes catching the subtle signs of your diligence. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair. You noticed he had already discarded his Papa robes, now wearing only his customary full black outfit underneath. Like you, his expression, though obscured by the skull face paint, hinted at weariness.
Closing the door behind him, Secondo made his way to your desk, and your eyes followed his steps through the cabinet until he reached for the chair he had occupied earlier that afternoon. With a deep breath, he settled into the seat.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers.
"Just a momentary break," you replied, offering a weary but genuine smile.
Secondo reached for the folders on your desk, his fingers tracing the edges as he inquired, "Did you manage to finish it?"
"I did," you replied, a note of accomplishment in your voice. "Not only that, but I also finished the files you handed me this morning," you held out the organized folders, presenting them to Secondo.
His eyes narrowed slightly, with surprise and approval. "Impressionante," he remarked, taking the folders from you and deftly opening one to inspect the documents.
"It's my duty, Secondo," you responded.
He hummed in appreciation. "Can I ask you one more thing before you go?" Secondo's gaze met yours, a request lingering in his eyes.
You nodded.
"Would you..." His words trailed off as he diverted his gaze for a moment, a subtle hint of hesitation tainting his expression.
"Assist you with a new speech for the ritual?" you asked.
"No, I..." he started and sighed. "I have a date," he casually revealed.
"What?" your voice betrayed with surprise and disbelief. "When?"
"In some few days," Secondo sighed, his gaze momentarily distant as if contemplating his own decision. "I decided to... try something different," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of mystery and a hint of reluctance.
You arched an eyebrow, sensing the unusual weight behind his words. "Different? A date?" you teased.
"It's not a usual occurrence for me, as you well know," he grunted, a faint annoyance lingering in his expression. "Call it a whim, if you will. Just don't make it more than it is," Secondo glanced at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a dinner."
"Just dinner?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "You're being unusually vague, Secondo."
He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "I don't want to overthink it. It's just dinner, nothing more."
You tilted your head, studying him. "What did you need my help with?" you inquired.
He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling his sleeves up with a nonchalant air. "I just need some advice on conversation topics, maybe some dating tips; for now," he explained, a touch of vulnerability beneath his usual composed demeanor.
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "The great Secondo, seeking dating advice? Now, that's new."
He shot you a deadpan look, unamused. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just an experiment."
You chuckled. "Experiment or not, I'm honored to be the dating consultant for Papa Emeritus II. So, tell me about the details. Who's the lucky person?"
He hesitated for a moment before revealing, "It's someone from the Ministry."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Do I know them?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter," Secondo looked at you, a subtle intensity in his eyes.
"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "Sure, we can practice, but your level of commitment for what you call 'just dinner' is certainly something else."
He leaned against your desk, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "Are you testing me?"
"Not at all. I wouldn't dare to test the almighty, the unholiest Papa Emeritus II," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.
He chuckled, a low hum following suit. "So, any suggestions for romantic conversation topics?"
You thought for a moment, tapping your fingers on the desk. "Well, what do you enjoy doing? Talk about your interests, and see if you have any common hobbies. You know, things you're passionate about."
He leaned back, considering your words. "Like what?"
"Secondo," you giggled. "You really never had been on a proper date?"
"I had some dates in the past," he admitted.
"I meant a proper one, with more talk than moans," you teased.
"Maybe not that many, then," he conceded with a smirk. "I just need some practice."
You chuckled at his response. "Alright, let's practice. Pretend I'm your date. Talk to me about something you're genuinely interested in."
He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabinet as if searching for inspiration. "I... well, I appreciate... Satanism."
"That's a start," you encouraged. "But, considering I already know your role as Papa in a Satanic Ministry, let's try something else, shall we?"
He huffed, crossing his arms. âI also have a passion for cooking.â
"Do you!?" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"
"Perhaps because we've never been on a date?" he teased, a subtle smile gracing the corner of his lips.
"Very funny, Secondo," you retorted. "What do you enjoy cooking?"
He pondered for a moment. "My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger, back before I moved here to the Ministry. So, in the days before I came to live here with my father, Primo and Terzo, she would prepare and teach me the recipes from her homeland. But, as you already know, since we used to live in Italy, she always found a way to blend both cuisines into one. So the short answer would be that I enjoy cook everything my mom taught me."
You listened attentively, nodding. "That's cuâbetter!" you quickly corrected yourself. "What more about you would you like to share?"
"I enjoy literature as well," he relaxed his posture, his arms uncrossed. "Particularly when it delves into the darker facets of human nature."
"That's interesting," you smiled at him.
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.
You nodded in affirmation, mirroring his head tilt. "Which authors do you like?"
His eyes rolled upward in contemplation before returning to meet yours, locking gazes. "Lately, I've delved into 'The Masque of the Red Death' by Edgar Allan Poe."
You leaned in a bit, your eyes searching his. "And what is it about?" The question hung in the air, almost a murmur.
Secondo, responding to your intrigue, moved closer to your desk, resting his arms on it. "Mortality, decadence, and the inevitability of death."
Your eyes held his, and a subtle smile played on your lips. "It suits your taste, doesn't it?" The words slipped from your lips almost playfully.
For a moment, a silent exchange lingered between you, both locked in a gaze that held a subtle dance of unspoken sentiments. The back-and-forth felt almost automatic, a flow of words and glances that hung in the air. However, as the silence stretched, you broke the connection, blinking slowly and shifting your gaze to another corner of the room. The unspoken tension lingered, suspended in the quiet space between you.
"Now, should I ask you about your interests?" he asked, his gaze focused on you.
You leaned back, considering his question with a playful glint in your eyes. "Yes, feel free to ask."
He chuckled, a genuine warmth in his tone. "Molto bene, pasticcina... what are your passions?"
You smirked, playing along. "Well, I also have an appreciation for Satanism, though I suppose you know."
He chuckled. "Indeed, pasticcina. What more?"
You continued the playful practice, seamlessly transitioning from the hypothetical to the personal. As you delved into the conversation, Secondo surprised you with his genuine curiosity. He asked about your favorite dishes, the kind of music you liked, and even your preferred getaway destinations.
You found yourself opening up about your passions and quirks. Surprisingly, Secondo's interest wasn't feigned; he listened attentively, occasionally sharing his own preferences. A long time ago, you noticed that he genuinely enjoyed moments when you would talk at length, silently absorbing your words. And according to him, listening to you was a way for him to relax after a stressful or long day. It felt as if Secondo was peeling away the layers of formality, revealing a more personal side that you rarely glimpsed. His responses were not mere nods or brief acknowledgments; instead, he engaged with a genuine interest that touched your heart.
As you spoke, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in Secondo's gaze. His eyes, usually carrying a weight of responsibilities and authority, softened into a more tender expression. It was as if, in this moment, the roles that defined your relationship were momentarily set aside, allowing a deeper connection to emerge.
"Ok, my time now! Whatâs your favorite memory from when you moved here?" you asked, resting your face on your hand as you stared at him.
"Favorite memory?" Secondo mused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I used to sneak into the Chapel for late-night fake rituals with Terzo. We used to explore the rooms behind the Chapel."
Intrigued, you leaned forward. "Rooms? Behind the Chapel?"
He grinned, revealing a glimpse of mischief. "We would sneak around after official hours, inventing stories about rituals we'd perform once we became Papa Emeritus."
You chuckled, "Did you three ever get caught?"
"More times than weâd like to admit," he admitted with a laugh.
"Who would've thought you were a rebel in your youth," you teased, pointing playfully at Secondo.
He responded with a sly smile, reaching for your hand and lightly touching his index finger to the one you were pointing at him. "There are probably some things you don't know about me, pasticcina."
A warmth spread through you, and you pulled away your finger, shaking your head with a slight blush. "I bet I don't. After all, I just discovered today that you can cook!'"
Secondo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes locked with yours. "A well-hidden talent, wouldn't you say? Maybe I have more surprises up my sleeves."
You couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I'm intrigued."
He leaned in as well, the desk between you feeling like an invisible boundary. "Are you, pasticcina?"
"Very much. Why? Shouldn't I?" you asked with a playful glint in your eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, sĂŹ? Or maybe I can, as the Papa."
You laughed at his words and shook your head. "Yes, you're the Papa. And you're not my boss, so technically, you can't dictate my actions. Though, I must admit, sometimes you seem to believe otherwise," you added, flashing him a sweet smile.
"Pasticcina, you're forgetting that I'm Papa Emerius II of this Ministry. So, yes, technically, I'm the boss," he said, crossing his legs.
"Well, Papa Emeritus II, even if you're the boss you've always respected my autonomy. So I guess that's the reason we get along so well," you teased, giving him a knowing look.
He smirked, the twinkle of mischief present in his eyes. "You're right, I could never bring myself to dictate your actions. That's not something I desire. Especially in our circumstances."
"Our circumstances?" you laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. "Any more hidden talents or skills you're keeping from me?"
Secondo's gaze intensified, and he leaned even closer. "Maybe you need to find out for yourself. I could surprise you one of these days."
You leaned back, feigning casualness, yet your eyes didn't leave his. "Surprises, huh? Maybe I also have a few tricks up my sleeve as well."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Do you?"
"Maybe," you admitted with a playful smile.
"Will you share them with me?"
"Absolutely not," you responded, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Just like you, I'll keep my mysteries hidden," you pointed a playful finger at him. "But, I just hope that one day, I'll understand your enigmas."
He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I doubt you'll unravel all my mysteries. Some are meant to be kept, sĂŹ?" Secondo chuckled, rising from the chair with the folders in hand. "Grazie for practicing with me."
"Are we finished already?" you questioned, giving him a certain look. You didn't want this brief exchange between the two of you to come to an end.
"SĂŹ, we are," he nodded in confirmation, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"Well, in that case, no need to thank me; I'm here for it," you reassured him, a genuine warmth evident in your tone. "We're friends, after all."
"You should go now, rest. It's late," he said, stretching his back.
You stood up from your chair, your gaze locked with his. "What about you?"
"I'll place these in the archives and then head to my chambers," he explained.
"Do you want me to come with you?" you offered, circling your table to stand by his side.
Secondo turned to face you, a gentle smile on his lips as he shook his head. Placing his hand on your cheek, he said, "I won't ask for more favors today. Go, rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." His touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.
"Fine," you huffed playfully. "But don't overwork."
"I won't, I promise," he replied, his eyes holding a sincerity.
You nodded, looking at him. Your eyes remained locked, holding onto each other's gaze. There was a peculiar intensity in the air, as if an unspoken connection lingered between you two.
"Before you leave," he said, stepping closer to you. "I do have a question."
"Well, it seems there's more for me tonight," you teased, chuckling. "Ask away."
"Just one question," he replied. "Let's imagine this is our first day together, you know, as my date," he said nervously. "How should I go about things at the end?"
"Well, it all depends on how the date goes," you responded with a thoughtful smile. "What happens next, really depends on the person you're with. Some might appreciate a goodnight kiss, while others might prefer a more reserved end to the evening. Best to gauge their preferences and perhaps just ask." You couldn't resist teasing him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now, if by 'ending the night' you're referring to something more... intimate," you paused, a sly grin forming, "well, that also depends, Secondo. It's mostly up to your partner's comfort and desires. If they're up for it, great. If not, you might want to exercise a bit more patience and wait for the right moment."
Secondo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, that's not what I was getting at," he clarified. "I'm not... thinking about anything too intimate for the first date. I just want to make sure I don't mess up the next steps. I'd like the date to be successful and maybe open the door for a second one."
You couldn't help but laugh at the misunderstanding. "Got it. It's always good to clarify these things. In that case, just be genuine, attentive, and considerate. If the connection is there, everything else will naturally fall into place."
Secondo nodded appreciatively. "Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo."
You grinned, offering a playful wink. "Exactly. And remember, if the date is going well, you'll sense it. If there's a good connection, you might even feel a spark. Just be yourself, and it'll all work out."
He smiled in response. "Grazie. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should let you go. Don't want to keep you from your evening plans."
"Evening plans?" you chuckled. "More like bedtime plans. I just need to sle..."
Your words trailed off as Secondo delicately took hold of your hand, drawing it closer to his face. He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of it, his lips brushing smoothly, and his nose causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. Secondo released your hand and raised his face to look at you again.
"Hope you have a good night," he whispered in a low, rough tone.
You nodded and you turned to leave, for some reason, you weren't feeling inclined to leave him tonight, prompting you to force yourself to look away. Giving him a warm smile, you made your way to the front door of your cabinet, opening it. You turned to face him for a last time and waved, a strange pull tugged at something inside you. Yet, without hesitating anymore, you left your cabinet, closing the door behind you. The corridor outside seemed quieter, the echoes of your footsteps resonating as you walked away. The night held a hint of something you couldn't figure out, but you pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the need for rest. Tomorrow would bring a new day.
The morning found you in the meeting room, surrounded by the table filled with members of the Clergy. Secondo occupied the central chair, presiding over the gathering. Annoyance lingered in the air, exacerbated by the early hour that seemed unfit for such deliberations. Yet, there you were, seated in your chair, contemplating the tedious proceedings. It was too early for such matters, and the weight of the Clergy's expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders. Despite the internal discontent, you maintained a composed exterior.
"How about we add a dance routine to the ritual, spice things up a bit?" one of the counselors inquired.
Secondo raised an eyebrow. "We're not putting on a show; it's a sacred ritual, not a ballroom."
"How about we all don hooded robes?" the Magister suggested, his tone edged with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"Are you aspiring to be one of my ghouls?" Secondo questioned with a stern undertone, tapping his fingers on the table's surface.
"No, Papa. I apologize," the Magister replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.
Secondo sighed, his demeanor maintaining seriousness. "This is not a celebration; we strive for solemnity and reverence." He then turned to you. "Deacon, any suggestions?"
"Uh...How about we emphasize the significance of sin and purpose? You can give a solemn speech about it," you spoke with conviction, "Also, what about a ritualistic chant? A collective recitation to honor our Dark Lord."
Secondo stared at you for a moment in silence, then nodded approvingly. "A return to our traditions. I appreciate it, Deacon. Let's proceed with that direction, we need a ritual that aligns with our satanic traditions."
The members of the Clergy grumbled, but Secondo's decision remained unyielding. After all, he held the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus. While there were murmurs of discontent, there was an understanding that his word carried undeniable weight. Somehow, it felt like as if being part of the Clergy and his friend, provided a unique privilege, granting you proximity to Secondo's decisions and shaping the path of the Ministry.
Beyond the friendship you shared with Secondo, which allowed you to know him on a personal level, your role as his Deacon gave you insight into his vision for the Ministry. This deeper understanding empowered you to offer suggestions that aligned with his aspirations, making your contributions more impactful.
In other words, you knew him.
As the members of the Clergy dispersed at his dismissal, Secondo remained seated in his chair, and you in yours, waiting until the last member exited the door. A noticeable sigh escaped Secondo's lips, echoing in the now empty room. Amused, you turned your face towards him and couldn't help but giggle.
You gracefully rose from your chair and made your way towards Secondo. His eyes followed your movements until you stopped by his side, sitting on the table next to him.
"Rough morning?" you asked, studying Secondo.
"Hooded robes? That's the pinnacle of ideas for the meeting?" Another sigh, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.
You couldn't stifle a chuckle at his exasperated expression. "Well, he did make an attempt, didn't he?"
"That was an attempt?" he retorted with a huffed chuckle.
"Secondo..."
"Mi dispiace," Secondo conceded, rubbing his brows with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "It's just frustrating sometimes."
You shifted closer. âI get it. The hooded robes suggestion was a bit out there.â
He sighed, turning his gaze to the door. âItâs like theyâre trying to outdo each other.â
âWell,â you chuckled, âat least it keeps things interesting.â
"What do you mean?" Secondo inquired.
"I meant that," you sighed, shaking your head. "Come on, Secondo, early morning meetings? It's practically an invitation for absurd suggestions."
He chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You have a point, Deacon."
You joined in the laughter. "Maybe we should schedule meetings in the afternoon. Avoid the pre-dawn eccentricities."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to spare me from hooded robe discussions?"
"Consider it a small act of mercy," you replied with a smirk.
Secondo chuckled silently, turning his eyes back to you, locking gazes. For a moment, you two just stared at each other. A warm smile crossed your face, and he quickly averted his gaze, rising from his chair. As he did, you gracefully slid from the table to the floor, observing him as he put his mitra back on his head.
âBack to the usual, I suppose,â Secondo remarked, adjusting his mitra.
You rose to your feet, a playful glint in your eyes. âThe Ministry awaits for their unholiest Eminence, Papa Emeritus II.â
"Did you mean the Paper work?" He smirked, gesturing towards the door. âShall we return to the office, Deacon? Thereâs more work to be done.â
You nodded, following him out of the meeting room. Secondo opened the door, allowing you to exit first, and then followed behind. The way back to his office and your cabinet was accompanied by a comfortable silence. The quiet corridors, still untouched by the bustling activities of the day, provided a serene atmosphere.
As you both walked together, your steps in perfect rhythm, a tranquil ambiance enveloped you. The morningâs hushed stillness allowed for reflection, interrupted only by occasional sounds echoing through the hallways. You sensed Secondoâs gaze on you at times, hinting at unspoken thoughts, yet you chose to ignore it, maintaining the quiet companionship between you two.
Reaching his office door, you placed a hand on his back, tapping your fingers in a silent farewell. As you slid your hand away, moving towards the door of your cabinet without looking back, Secondo surprised you by reaching for your wrist. You stopped, turning to meet his gaze.
With a subtle gesture of his head towards the door of his office, Secondo's unspoken invitation was clear. You nodded, and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand, holding it gently. Together, you walked into his office, and he closed the door behind you.
"What's going on, Secondo?" you inquired, a genuine tone of concern in your voice.
He turned towards you, still holding your hand. "Nothing, just wanted to discuss something before we dive into our daily tasks."
"Ah!" you exclaimed, relief evident in your voice. "All the silence and mysterious gestures... You scared me!" You chuckled, but the humor faded as you felt the grip of his hand tighten.
"I apologize, pasticcina," he said, releasing your hand. "It's nothing important; no need to worry. But I was thinking, after work, would you like to join me for dinner?"
"A dinner?" you raised a questioning brow. "Why?"
He moved to his desk, glancing away from you. "Yesterday, after you left, I started to ask myself about my plans for the date. I might admit I felt a bit pressured to decide without seeking an opinion, so I thought that meeting in my chambers for dinner would be more intimate," he explained. "So, what I'm suggesting is: could you come to my chambers later and share a meal with me? I'll take care of the cooking, so no need to worry."
"Yes, certainly," you affirmed with a nod. "But, why the sudden dinner plan?"
"Because I need your opinion," he explained, running his hand over his face and settling into his chair. "And I trust your taste, especially since you've never experienced my cooking skills before."
A playful giggle escaped you, and you bit your lower lip. "Putting in quite the effort for this date. They must be someone special, or... I'm not sure what else could explain it."
He nodded in agreement, rolling his chair away from the desk. Removing his mitra and placing it carefully on the edge, he continued, "They are. A lot. Grazie for helping me again," standing up, he lifted his robe and removed it. "I'll be expecting you after work, so you can change comfortably if you wish," he added while hanging his robe. "But for now, let's focus on work, sĂ?"
You nodded in agreement, offering him a sweet smile as you made your way to the door of your cabinet. Pushing it open, you impulsively gave him a final glance and found him looking back at you. However, as your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, and you did the same, entering your office and closing the door behind you.
Furrowing your brows, you walked to your desk and turned your face towards the door, a sense of confusion settling in as an unspoken tension lingered in the air.
Determined to delve into work, you tried to push aside the intrusive thoughts about Secondo's date. The realization that he needed your opinion for a personal matter lingered, adding an unexpected layer to your responsibilities. It felt like putting in extra hours for a friend, yet a subtle discomfort simmered beneath the surface, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher.
The day progressed, and the weight of your concentration on work led you to skip lunch, an unusual occurrence even without a meeting with the Clergy. The intensity with which you focused became a shield against the lingering thoughts, keeping your emotions in check. As the hours passed, the unease grew, a nagging sensation that you couldn't shake.
Amid your concentrated efforts, a knock on your door shattered the silence, pulling you away from your work. The interruption disrupted your train of thought, leaving you slightly disoriented as you looked towards the door.
Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair walking to the front of your desk and turned towards the door. Leaning against the edge of the desk, you called out, "Come in," crossing your arms in front of your chest.
As the door swung open, a sibling of sin from the ministry stood there. "I apologize for disturbing you, Deacon, but your presence is requested by the Magister in the Chapel."
"Thank you," you responded with a gentle smile.
The Sibling of Sin nodded, taking a step back from the door before leaving your cabinet. Just before the door closed, you signaled to keep it open. Seizing the opportunity, you made your way towards the door, leaving your cabinet and heading directly to the Chapel.
Uncertain of what the Magister could possibly need at this hour in the afternoon, you had no choice but to go. Entering the chapel, Archeon, the Magister, was already waiting for you, seated on one of the benches. As your eyes met his, you couldn't help but sigh.
"Magister," you greeted, closing the chapel's door behind you.
He turned his face towards you, rising from the bench. "Deacon, please, join me," he gestured to a door, his office and you walked towards it with him.
You approached, entering his office with him following suit. Archeon's expression bore formality and concern as he glanced at you.
"Deacon, I apologize for the sudden call, but there's a matter of urgency that requires your attention," he began, his tone carrying a weight.
"What is it?" you inquired, a note of concern in your voice.
"It's about the upcoming ritual," he replied with a smirk.
Suppressing any visible reaction, you maintained a composed exterior, merely nodding in response. You found yourself unwittingly drawn into another discussion about the ritual, a situation that seemed to be becoming a recurring theme in your day.
You couldn't shake the suspicion that Archeon had summoned you instead of Secondo, well aware that convincing the Papa might be an impossible task. It was a misjudgment on his part, as you held firm in your loyalty to Secondo and his decisions.
As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of the ritual, the afternoon gradually stretched into the night. Engrossed in the meeting, you realized you hadn't found a chance to escape from the Magister's grasp. After the prolonged discussions, you couldn't help but wish you were anywhere else at this point, yearning for a break from the relentless discourse.
"I was thinking we could enhance the upcoming ritual with some thematic decorations, perhapsâ"
Raising your hand, you interjected wearily, offering a polite smile as your eyes flicked to the clock. "Magister, I appreciate your ideas, truly, but I've been immersed in logistical details all day." With a subtle gesture, you motioned towards the stack of papers on your desk. "I believe we've covered most bases. Can we possibly continue this discussion tomorrow?"
The Magister sighed, recognizing your exhaustion. "I completely understand, Deacon, but hear me out on these finer details about the ceremonial space. Picture this â ethereal lighting, symbolic artifacts, and maybe even a thematic focal point for the Papa Emeritus."
Nodding politely, you glanced towards the door, silently signaling the urgency of your situation. "Magister, your vision is inspiring, no doubt." As you spoke, you gathered the papers on your desk. "But I have an important matter to attend to now. Let's reconvene tomorrow, what do you think?"
"But, Deaconâ" he began, reluctant to let go of his ideas.
You stood, a sense of determination in your eyes. "Tomorrow, Magister. I promise we'll give your ideas the attention they deserve. Right now, urgent matters call."
He nodded, understanding the present circumstances, and you gave him a reassuring smile. With that, you headed towards the door, leaving the Magister to contemplate his ideas inside one of the rooms of the Chapel.
As you navigated the corridors to reach Secondo's chambers, your thoughts drifted to reasons why he needed you tonight. You had been friends with Secondo for a considerable time, and you couldn't recall a time when he straight-up asked for your help on something so private. Granted, he had casually alluded to it on a few occasions, but it was more like random thoughts than actual requests. You pondered what was happening for him to break from his routine and embark on this unexpected endeavor.
Reaching for the door of his chambers, you shook away your thoughts. Raising your hand, you knocked on his door, mirroring the courtesy he had extended to you earlier. Soon, his voice echoed from inside, signaling you to push the door open and enter.
As you walked in, you made your way to his bedroom, finding him standing in front of the mirror, holding two shirts in his hands. He placed them in front of his bare chest, tilting his head repeatedly as he assessed the options. Leaning against the doorframe, you chuckled at the sight. Secondo shifted his gaze from his reflection to acknowledge your presence in the room.
"Which one?" he inquired, a serious tone in his voice.
"The white one," you replied, gesturing towards the shirt in his left hand.
He sighed and walked to his bed, discarding the other shirt as he began to don the white one. You made your way towards him, observing him buttoning his shirt. Stopping in front of him, you extended your hands to his neck, assisting with the collar of the shirt, your gaze fixed on his neck.
"Why are you picking out a shirt?"
"I had a little accident in the kitchen," he mumbled.
A playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. "You, Secondo, had a little accident?"
He sighed, arching a brow. "SĂŹ"
"Feeling nervous?" you inquired, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on the skin of his neck.
"I don't get nervous," he declared with a serious tone, his hands moving to rest on your arms, holding them securely.
Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinized his expression. "You don't get nervous?"
"No," he replied, withdrawing his hands from your arms and lightly placing one on the side of your body.
Shaking your head with a smile, you moved your hands from his neck to the buttons of his shirt, skillfully undoing the first two. "You're not about to lead a mass or attend a meeting; you don't have to be that formal." You finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving him a light pat on the chest. "There, much better."
Secondo maintained a stoic silence, his gaze fixed on you as your hands lingered on his chest. The discreet sound of him clearing his throat felt like a subtle cue for you to withdraw your hands, concealing the flicker of embarrassment. Stepping back, you aimed to regain your composure.
Inhaling deeply, Secondo clasped his hands together and turned towards the kitchen, prompting you to follow suit. As he entered first and headed towards the stove, you found yourself trailing behind, entering the kitchen with a slight sense of uncertainty. Not quite sure of what to do or where to go, you hesitated on the threshold.
"Are you hungry?" he inquired.
"A little bit," you admitted.
"Come here," he beckoned, and you moved in a beeline towards him, stopping right beside him.
Turning to face you, Secondo gently held your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Open," he instructed, and a flicker of confusion passed through your eyes. Nonetheless, he moved his thumb closer to your lower lip, caressing it gently. "Your mouth."
Your gaze remained fixed on him as you slowly parted your lips, feeling his thumb almost sliding inside your mouth. A satisfied hum escaped him as he let go of your chin, guiding the spoon closer to your mouth.
As the spoon neared and your lips were still parted, your eyes fixed on him, Secondo abruptly halted his movement. He shifted the hand with the spoon, and you instinctively reached for it, taking hold. As he withdrew his hand to turn back to the stove, your eyes focused on the spoon.
"Blew it before tasting," he advised. "It's a recipe from my mom; she used to cook this risotto."
Obediently, you blew on the spoonful and tasted it, savoring the blend of flavors from the ingredients. A content smile spread across your face as you closed your eyes.
"It's good, sĂŹ?" Secondo inquired, and you opened your eyes, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he remarked, attempting to veil a subtle joy in his voice, though it lingered beneath the surface. "Now, take a seat, and I'll serve our food."
As Secondo finished serving, you took a seat, waiting for him to join. With graceful movements, he approached the table, placing a plate in front of you and another for himself. Seating himself, he reached for a bottle of wine, but just before pouring, a realization struck him. Standing up, he made his way to the countertop drawer, retrieving a lighter. Returning to the table, he ignited some candles, casting a warm glow in the room. He then went to the switch, turning off the lights before settling back at the table.
You looked around, slightly perplexed by the sudden change in ambiance. "What's all this?" you asked.
Secondo leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Just thought we'd get into the mood of a real date," he explained.
You chuckled, "A real date, huh?"
"SĂŹ, why not?" he replied, pouring some wine into both glasses.
"I appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll pass on the wine," you said with a small smile. "Still have work tomorrow."
Secondo nodded and got up. "Nessun problema. I'll get you something else." He returned with a bottle of water and a glass cup, placing them in front of you. "I apologize. I should have asked before."
"No need to apologize," you reassured him, pouring yourself some water. "I appreciate it," you sipped your water. "This really feels like a real date," you remarked with a playful smile.
Secondo leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I did ask you to meet me at night for a dinner,â Secondo admitted, a touch of genuine reflection in his voice. âBut I called you here to make sure Iâve still got the charm.â
You raised an eyebrow. âCharm? Is that what you call it?â
He grinned, âWell, you havenât run away yet, so it must be working, sĂŹ?â
You couldnât help but laugh at his playful banter. âI have to admit that your mother's risotto is being more powerful than your 'charm' right now. But, I suppose you have a point. So, whatâs the plan for our fictional date talk practice tonight?â
Secondo lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. "I thought we could dive into some typical date talk again. Just, before we do it, why are you still in your work clothes?"
You glanced down at your attire and sighed. "The Magister called for me this afternoon for a discussion."
"What was it about?" Secondo inquired, picking up his fork to begin eating.
"Guess," you replied dryly. "Of course, it was about the ritual."
"Cretino," Secondo muttered under his breath. "I'll make sure he knows not to disturb you any further."
You chuckled, appreciating Secondoâs protective tone. âNo need to worry, Secondo. I can handle the Magister, and besides, itâs part of the job.â
He sighed, delicately placing his utensils on the table. âI still donât like it. You shouldnât be bothered with such things. If I've made my decision, then he should stop pressuring you. I have the final say.â
You responded with a reassuring smile. âItâs okay, really. Now, back to our âtypical date talk.â If being a Papa Emeritus wasn't your destiny, you could have being a chef.â
A subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips as he focused on his food. "I'm truly glad you liked it."
"Are you planning to cook this for your date?" you inquired.
"No," he replied, taking a bite. "I mean... Yes, but, this dish is..." he continued. "This is a dish meant to be shared with someone special."
"Isn't your date someone special?" you quirked an eyebrow.
Secondo chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. âOf course. But this dish is... it has a meaning for me, and to share it with someone, for me, is truly intimate.â
You nodded, understanding. âSo, what you are telling me right now is that I'm special?"
Secondo took another bite, savoring the flavors before meeting your gaze. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he said with a playful glint in his eyes.
You leaned in, a teasing smile on your lips. "Well, Secondo, you're not giving me a clear answer. Should I be offended or flattered?"
He chuckled, setting his fork down. "You see, 'special' is quite a broad term. it can mean a lot of tings."
You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? But I suppose it's better than a definite 'no'."
He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "However," he sighed before continuing. "I can't deny that sharing this with you is special. So maybe you're not just special; you're making it special."
You blushed deeply and he reached for your hand. You instinctively let him, both of you seemingly unaware of the unspoken shift in dynamics. The touch felt surprisingly natural, and as your fingers intertwined, the air in the room seemed to thicken with some strange newfound feeling.
âPerhaps,â Secondo began, his voice softer, âwe could do this again sometime.â
You nodded. âOf course, I'd love to.â
The evening unfolded in shared conversations and laughter, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate. Your hands remained intertwined, as if in sync with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a performance, or at least didn't feel like it as time seemed to slow down as you both reveled in the comfort of each other's presence.
As the meal drew to a close, Secondo rose, indicating his intention to take care of the dishes. Despite your offer to help, he insisted that you stay put, asserting his desire to handle the task. Weariness settling in, you acquiesced without further protest, allowing him to take charge.
Reclining in your chair, you observed him as he methodically rolled up his sleeves, ready to tackle the pile of dishes. Resting your elbow on the table, you cradled your cheek in your hand, captivated by the simple domesticity of the scene. Watching him in this moment, he seemed more than the formidable Papa Emeritus; he appeared as a person engaged in mundane yet oddly enchanting chores. It was a rare glimpse of Secondo unguarded, a side obscured by his role of authority.
Your eyes roamed over his silhouette, from the way his white shirt clung to him with meticulous precision, the impeccable fit of his black pants, down to his polished shoes. Every detail seemed to accentuate the allure of his form. As he worked on the dishes, your gaze lingered on the back of his head, his neck, his arms, and the motion of his strong hands. The entire sight prompted an involuntary sigh, a reflexive response to the unexpected allure of observing him.
Clearing your head, you shook off the enchantment and took in a deep breath. It felt odd to gaze upon him with such admiration, especially in the context of a casual evening. Reminding yourself that this was merely a performance, a shared act between two individuals, you sought to maintain a sense of detachment. The lines between the scripted performance and genuine connection blurred momentarily.
"Have you considered bringing flowers for your date?" you inquired, turning your gaze back to him.
Secondo paused in his actions, glancing over his shoulder. "Flowers?"
"It could be a nice touch," you suggested, your tone gentle, accompanied by a warm smile. "A thoughtful gesture, don't you think?"
"Flowers," he chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "What kind of flowers?"
"I don't know, maybe... lilies, daisies or..." you paused, contemplating. "Oh! tulips!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a smile.
"Tulips?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding with a continued smile. "Tulips expresses admiration."
"Tulips then," he decided, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, Papa. Tulips," you confirmed with a grin
"Stop," he said in a more serious tone.
"Stop with what, Papa?" you inquired, letting his title linger a bit longer on your tongue.
With a chuckle, Secondo turned towards you, arms crossed over his chest. "Pasticcina..."
"Papa?" you repeated, trying to suppress a laugh, your lower lip caught between your teeth.
He approached the table, placing his hands on it in front of you, lowering himself slightly. "Do you find it entertaining to mock me?"
With a playful tone, you replied, gesturing with your hand as if pinching an imaginary space between your thumb and index finger. "A little. But to be honest, I don't get why you don't like me calling you Papa. You call me Deacon!"
He sighed, closing his eyes. "When you call me Papa, it feels like you're just another one of them who sees me only in that role. I know you don't, or at least, I want to believe you don't. So when you do it, it feels like you're only acknowledging me as Papa. Also seeing me as someone above you, and I don't want you to see me as it. You're the only one I allow to call me by my name because... that feels more personal, more real."
"Secondo," you softly uttered his name, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "I..." you continued, observing as Secondo opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours.
He nodded slightly, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Now you know."
You couldn't help but feel a warmth in your chest, realizing the significance of calling him by his name. It was a privilege, a connection beyond titles and roles. You sensed a deeper bond, one that surpassed the boundaries of your official positions.
"But," you chuckled, looking away from his eyes. "That doesn't explain why you call me Deacon." As you spoke, you felt Secondo's gentle touch cupping your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze once more.
"That's easy to explain, actually," he replied, straightening his posture and adjusting his sleeves. "I call you Deacon because, in my eyes, you are more than just your title," Secondo said with a sincere tone, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's a term that resonates with the person you are to meâdedicated, capable. When I say it, it's not just a formality; it's a way of acknowledging the person I trust, respect, and consider my equal."
His words caught you off guard, surprise and warmth settling within. You sat there, momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond, your gaze fixed on him. Secondo, with a subtle tilt of his head, seemed to enjoy your reaction. Breaking the moment, you burst into laughter, getting up from your seat and playfully hitting his arm with a soft punch. He reached for your hand, and pulled you closer.
"Should I let you go for tonight?" he whispered in a hushed tone.
Confused by his ambiguous words, you pondered the meaning behind "letting you go." What was he implying? You hesitated, uncertain of your response. Should you express a desire to stay longer, to extend this quiet and intimate moment with him? Yet, the reason behind that desire eluded you.
"Is our 'date' coming to an end?" you inquired, matching his subdued tone.
"It depends," he whispered back.
The air seemed to thicken, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. His proximity and the gentle embrace of your hands intensified the unspoken tension, leaving you breathless and uncertain how to navigate the intimate space between you.
"In that case," you began, gently retracting your hand from his grasp, "I suppose our night comes to an end."
As you spoke, Secondo remained silent, nodding in agreement while avoiding eye contact. He gestured toward the kitchen's door, prompting you to lead the way. Moving in silence, you felt the weight of your words, wondering if you had conveyed the wrong message. As you approached the front door, you hesitated, a desire to turn and look at him conflicting with the sense that you had just given an inadequate response.
Reaching the door, you stopped, making room for Secondo to open it for you. Gathering your courage, you glanced back at him, only to find his gaze fixed elsewhere. Sighing, you stepped outside, facing the corridor. Just as you were about to move on, he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on the back. As he released your hand, he remained silent, offering a small nod and a faint smile.
Taking a step back into his chambers, Secondo slowly closed the door, allowing for a prolonged gaze between you two. When the door finally shut completely, you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, exhaling heavily. Holding the hand he had kissed against your face with the other, you could feel your heart racing and your cheeks burning.
You hurriedly retreated to your chambers, not daring to glance back. No furtive glimpses, not even with the corner of your eye. Distance was your ally, and you needed to put as much of it between you and him as possible. The empty corridors allowed for swift, almost running steps, the only sounds being the echo of your hurried pace and the rapid beating of your heart.
Upon reaching the door to your chambers, you wasted no time and swung it open, entering in haste. As the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a moment to catch your breath before attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
Turning your gaze to your hand, the one he had just kissed, you were certain you could still feel the warmth of his lips on it. Driven by a mix of desire and bewilderment, you brought the hand closer to your face, hovering it near your lips. With closed eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation, as if the residual heat from his kiss on your hand was transferring directly to your lips. It almost felt like...
You opened your eyes, fixating on your hand outstretched in front of you, prompting a sigh to escape your lips. As your gaze trailed the back of your hand, there it wasâthe imprint of his lips, the distinctive black lines from his face paint against the white. Your eyes softened, and you closed them once more. Bringing your hand close to your mouth, you allowed yourself to place a gentle kiss on the marked skin. As you withdrew your lips from your hands, the faint imprint of his kiss lingered. The sensation was as if you had just shared a kiss with Secondo, kindling a flame within you.
The line for the confessional today was incredibly long. It wasn't your usual practice to engage in this, as you preferred to grapple with your sins in silence. Moreover, your role as a Deacon didn't mandate such confessions. However, during your free moments, you occasionally indulged in sharing your transgressions with the Cardinal of the week, the Minister, or even the Papa Emeritus himself.
The problem lay in the aftermath of the previous night, as an unusual sense of guilt and embarrassment gripped you. It was a sentiment you couldn't entirely comprehend, but the source of your embarrassment was clear â the intimate act with your hand that felt inherently wrong.
The queue for the confessional was filled with siblings eager to speak with Secondo. However, as his Deacon, you were well aware that he wouldn't be available today due to a busy morning. You found solace in the knowledge that he wouldnât be the one hearing your thoughts, actions, and feelings today. Instead, the confessional would be attended by one of the Ministers from the Ministry, as per the schedule.
As the queue inched closer to your turn at the confessional, a sense of nervousness tinged your anticipation. You knew you needed to confess the guilt and embarrassment you felt from the previous night, but you were determined to keep the details superficial and avoid any mention of Secondo. The goal was to confide without revealing the true source of your inner turmoil, ensuring that whoever listened on the other side remained unaware of the specific circumstances.
After a brief wait, it was finally your turn at the confessional. As you stepped into it, the familiar scent of aged wood surrounded you, creating a somewhat comforting atmosphere. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.
"Forgive me, Minister, for I've sinned," you began, your voice calm within the confines of the confessional.
Inside, a brief silence ensued, and you turned your head, catching a glimpse of the Minister's silhouette through the window. He nodded, prompting you to take a deep breath.
âI⊠I found myself in a situation that felt inappropriate,â you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. âI feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but I do.â
Turning your gaze to the silhouette once more, another nod from the Minister signaled for you to continue.
"I know that embracing desire is considered virtuous, and I shouldn't feel shame, but I do," you confessed, leaning against the confessional wall. "I find myself entangled in thoughts and feelings of lust with someone I shouldn't. He wasn't someone I desired before or maybe did; I regarded him as an equal, a friend. However, something has changed, he looks different now."
The Minister's silhouette stayed stoic, leaving you uncertain about whether to continue. However, you knew he wouldn't abandon the confessional.
"We've had some conversations in the last few days, and it's embarrassing because I shouldn't be feeling this way about him after such a short time, but the way he talks, the care he shows when I'm talking..." you smiled. "The way he expressed how he sees me... and other things. I start to feel like I've been blind whenever I was close to him or just ignored things I shouldn't have, and for that, I feel embarrassed. My sin today is this guilt inside of me."
You furrowed your brows as the silhouette remained stoic, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.
"Minister? Should I proceed?" you asked with uncertainty.
He nodded in response.
"I should be proud of what happened yesterday; after all, lust is embraced here. But, all I feel is guilt. Guilt for the desire I felt, for what I imagined with him," you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your legs together. "For the longing for a kiss, just an innocent kiss," you murmured, opening your eyes. "I feel guilty for wanting my friend, for desiring him, for needing him."
You sighed, shifting your gaze to the silhouette on the other side of the confessional booth. The Magister remained a silent listener, patiently absorbing your words.
"I feel like Iâm caught in this whirlwind of emotions," you confessed, your gaze dropping to your feet. "I'm starting to think maybe this attraction was always lurking around, unnoticed or dismissed. It's confusing â being drawn to him when it feels like I shouldn't. But," you grinned, "I can't shake the thoughts of him, and this curiosity to unravel more about who he really is."
You awaited a response, but the Minister stayed silent. The thought that they might have figured out who you were referring to started to gnaw at you, a tightening sensation in your stomach.
"Thank you, Minister, for listening," you expressed as you gently opened the confessional door and stepped out, leaving the weight of your confessions within its sacred space.
Exiting the confessional, you headed back to your cabinet, exiting the chapel. In the corridors, you spotted the Magister, you anticipated the conversation you had promised him yesterday. Inhaling deeply to prepare yourself, as you walked past him, however, he deliberately avoided your presence, not even bothering to meet your gaze.
Observing him stride away, a chuckle escaped your lips. It seemed Secondo had indeed managed to convey the message to leave you alone. As you continued to your cabinet, you passed by Secondo's office door, giving it a brief glance. He probably hadn't returned yet from the meeting he had scheduled for this morning. Reaching your own door, you opened it and stepped inside.
The rest of the day unfolded with an unusual quietness. Secondo didn't show up after the meeting hour, and there were no requests or messages from him. The typically atmosphere of his office, where you could hear the muffled sounds of him discussing matters with other siblings or working on various tasks, was eerily silent. You couldn't even catch a glimpse of him through the slightly open door of his office.
Despite the unusual circumstances, you decided to focus on your work. The Ministry's duties and responsibilities demanded your attention, and you knew that dwelling on Secondo's absence wouldn't serve any purpose. Your tasks as a Deacon required precision and dedication, and you delved into your responsibilities, pushing aside any thoughts about the peculiar events of the day.
Yet, you missed him.
As the hours passed, the normal rhythm of your work continued, and you worked on managing requests, coordinating schedules, and overseeing the operations within the Ministry. The day rolled on, and soon it was approaching the end of your work shift. Still, there was no sign of Secondo, and the unusual emptiness in his office lingered in the air. You wondered if something significant had occurred or if he simply had other matters to attend to. Regardless, you maintained your focus on your duties, determined to fulfill your responsibilities until the last moments of your workday.
The sudden knock on your door nearly startled you, prompting a swift rise from your chair. Fueled by the hope that it might be Secondo, you hurried to the door, anticipation coursing through you. However, to your disappointment, it was one of the ritualists who awaited you on the other side.
"It's quite late, and I understand if you've wrapped up your work, but I have some details for the upcoming ritual at the end of the week," he mentioned, gesturing with a folder in his hand.
"Please," you said, stepping back to allow him entry. "Come in."
He nodded, stepping into your cabinet. "It's not urgent. Honestly, you can address it tomorrow, but I needed someone reliable to take a look at the final document."
As you closed the door, you faced him. "You do realize you should have handed it to Papa, right?"
"Don't you know?" he inquired, noticing your confusion. "Papa didn't attend the morning meeting, and no one has seen him since then."
"What!?" you exclaimed, attempting to mask your emotions. "What do you mean?"
"I assumed you might knew," he said, placing the folder on your desk.
"I..." you glanced at Secondo's door. "I didn't..." you sighed, shifting your focus back to the ritualist. "Maybe he was just occupied for the day."
"Perhaps," he replied with a shrug. "Well, thanks for receiving me," he said, heading toward the door and opening it. "As I mentioned, don't stress about the files today; you can handle them tomorrow."
As the ritualist departed, closing the door behind him, you swiftly approached Secondo's office door connected to your cabinet. Pushing it open, you scanned the room. There was no indication that he had been in his office today. Unusual â it wasn't typical for Secondo to be absent from the office or working elsewhere without a clear reason.
A troubling thought surfaced: could his absence be tied to his date? Perhaps he was preparing for it, but was it today? Regardless, he wouldnât neglect his responsibilities like this, especially not without keeping you informed.
Exiting his office, you returned to your cabinet. Without a second glance, you headed to your front door and left. Determined to locate Secondo, you were certain he would be in his chambersâthe only place where he could remain hidden for an extended period without being spotted.
As you walked purposefully through the corridors, the urgency of finding Secondo fueled your steps. Upon reaching the entrance to Secondoâs chambers, a moment of hesitation overcame you before retrieving the spare keys hidden at the top of the door and pushing it open.
âSecondo?â No response. The silence pressed against your ears, amplifying the tension.
To your surprise, the room was empty. The subtle scent of incense hung in the air, but there was no sign of Secondo. The mysterious absence deepened your concern. Maybe he had left a clue, a note, or something that could shed light on his sudden disappearance. You began to search the room, checking every corner, every piece of parchment on his desk.
Nothing.
As you stood in the center of Secondo's chamber, uncertainty gripped you. Where could he be? The unanswered questions piled up, and a sense of foreboding weighed on your shoulders. An eerie silence enveloped the room. The air seemed to hold its breath.
Exiting his chambers, you headed back to your cabinet, determined to focus on the documents the ritualist had delivered. You pondered where else Secondo might be if not in his chambers. A sense of worry gnawed at you; his prolonged absence was unusual, especially for the entire day.
Arriving at your cabinet's door, you paused, taking a deep breath. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to Secondo's closed office door, searching for any hint of light beneath it. To your disappointment, there was none. Deciding not to dwell on it further, you pushed open your door. But, just as you were about to step inside, you found him already there, standing in front of your desk, holding the folder delivered by the ritualist.
"Secondo!" you exclaimed, stepping inside.
"Deacon," he said, meeting your gaze with a seemingly innocent expression. "I was wondering where you went."
"I should be the one asking that," you retorted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"
"In the... Ministry...?" he asked, arching a brow in mock innocence, placing the folder on your desk. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean!" you said, your tone sharpening. "You've been absent the entire day!" you said, stepping closer to him.
"Deacon..."
"No," you interrupted, pointing at him as you closed the distance. "Don't use my title orâ"
âPasticcina,â Secondo interjected. His tone remained steady but carried an unspoken weight.
As the familiar nickname reached you, you came to a sudden stop a few inches away from him. Casting a brief glance in his direction, you took in his unadorned appearance â no face paint, only wearing the clothes he typically donned under his Papa's robe.
âI had some personal matters to attend to,â Secondo explained, breaking the momentary silence. His eyes met yours, revealing something you couldnât quite decipher.
âPersonal matters?â you repeated, your tone a blend of skepticism and curiosity. âYou were absent the whole day.â
He sighed, a hint of frustration evident. âThere are aspects of my duties that require discretion. Itâs nothing to concern yourself with, pasticcina.â
"What? Since when?" you said, frustration evident, releasing his hand. "Are you kidding me?" The heat of anger simmered within you. "Secondo, you've been absent the entire day. I assumed maybe a lengthy meeting, but it felt odd. No communication, no nothing throughout the day," you continued. "This isn't your usual behavior. You don't skip work, you don't disappear, and most importantly, not without..." Your words trailed off.
"Not without?" he inquired.
"Not without telling me," you sighed, turning away and rubbing your hands over your eyes. "I'm your Deacon; you can't pull disappearing acts without informing me about what's happening." As you faced him again, he stood unexpectedly close, the intensity of his presence catching you off guard.
"I didn't skip work today," he asserted, looking down at you. "I was working."
"Oh, were you?" you shot back with a defiant look, crossing your arms. "Really?"
"SĂŹ?" he replied, mirroring your crossed arms. "Why would I lie to you?"
"I don't know, maybe for the same reason you hid from me the entire day?" you said, the anger still simmering. "I even thought that maybe your date was today, and you were..." you inhaled deeply. "there... with them." As you said it, your words came out laden with frustration and an unspoken hurt. "But, I've had enough of these vague answers, Secondo," you said, your frustration boiling over. "What happened today? You can't just disappear without a word."
He sighed, his gaze shifting away. "It was unexpected."
"Unexpected? That's all you're giving me?" you retorted, unconvinced. "Everyone in the Ministry was worried, and I was left in the dark."
"I'm sure no one was worried, pasticcina, and I apologize for the concern," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"You can't justâI'm the Deacon! I should know what's happening," you insisted, your eyes narrowing.
He paused, as if grappling with a decision. "Bene, I'll tell you," he conceded, meeting your gaze. "I was in a private duty today."
"A private duty?" you echoed, puzzled. "What could possibly be a private duty?"
He hesitated, then admitted, âI am the Papa Emeritus of the Ministry, after all. Sometimes, I need to be the listener,â he explained, a shadow of weariness crossing his features.
âA listener?â you questioned, still trying to grasp the extent of his absence.
âI skipped the meeting because I couldnât shake off some of my thoughts. Then, I found myself in the confessional today,â he repeated, his tone revealing a deeper truth. âListening to confessions. I wanted to offer guidance, to be there for those who needed it."
âSo, it means that it wasââ a sudden realization hit you. If Secondo was the one inside the confessional today...
Secondo gently reached for your face, cupping your cheek. âDo you want to talk about why you felt guilty?â
Your eyes widened as you looked at him. âI donât.â
"Are you sure about that, pasticcina?" he inquired, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw.
You tried to maintain composure. "I don't feel guilty."
He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. "Confessionals are meant for honesty, you know."
You took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to confess," you insisted, though your gaze flickered with uncertainty.
"But you had," Secondoâs gaze held an unspoken challenge. âDon't hide your sins from me, pasticcina,â his thumb continued its gentle caress.
âI⊠I just...â you stammered, attempting to evade the specifics. Feeling the pressure, you took a step back, creating a slight distance between you and Secondo. His eyes followed your movement, and took a deep breath.
"You can talk to me," he persisted, closing the gap again, his gaze unwavering. "What happened?"
You continued to evade, attempting to maintain composure. "It's nothing, really."
He pursued you, narrowing the distance between you once more. "Tell me," he urged, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. "I want to help you to get rid of this feeling. Let me, your Papa, guide you."
As the space between you diminished, you met his gaze, and in a barely audible whisper, you admitted, "I feel guilty because of you."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Secondoâs eyes as he maintained the proximity, absorbing your whispered admission. Before he could respond, you spoke up.
âI feel guilty,â you confessed, âfor wanting you,â the words tumbled out, revealing the turmoil within. "But I shouldn't because we are friends... But yesterday, all I wanted for some reason was you, your touch, a kiss..."
Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The air seemed to pause, and then, with a gentle and unmistakable determination, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, he held still, leaving his lips lightly grazing yours, waiting for your response.
As you closed your eyes slowly, you took a deep breath, reciprocating the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, fingers tracing patterns as your lips moved in harmony. Slowly, your hands caressed down to his belly before settling on the sides of his body. As you explored the contours, Secondo responded by unwrapping his arms from around you. His hands then journeyed to your face, cupping your cheeks with gentle warmth, intensifying the closeness of the moment.
As the kiss continued, the touch of your lips remained gentle and unhurried. Your hands, exploring the intricate contours of his body, moved with deliberate tenderness. Secondo's response was a mirrored reflection of the unhurried passion. He let his hands linger on your face, thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your cheeks.
And then, subtle shift occurred, and the tenderness transformed into a growing intensity. The unhurried kiss between you and Secondo began to deepen, the softness giving way to a more fervent exchange.
Your hands, once gentle in their exploration, tightened their hold with a newfound urgency. They traced the lines of his body, conveying a growing desire that mirrored the intensifying kiss. Secondo responded in kind, his touch on your face evolving from a gentle caress to a more passionate hold, fingers tracing their path to the back of your neck.
His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as his other hand firmly grasped your waist. Your bodies were pressed against each other, intensifying the kiss. A subtle sound escaped your lips, blending with a sigh as Secondo's grip on your waist tightened.
Tilting his head, Secondoâs tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance. However, you, sensing the path the kiss could lead you both, pulled away abruptly. The fire that had been building extinguished as you put a deliberate distance between you and Secondo.
Secondo's eyes, filled with concern, locked onto yours. This time, you turned your face to the side, glancing away. Undeterred, he gently held your chin, turning it back to face him.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone, his lips just inches away.
"N-Nothing," you stammered, trying to hide the unease in your voice.
"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes conveyed a mix of worry and confusion.
"No..." you said, reaching for the hand on your chin, holding it in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I just..." you started, your voice softening. "I knew where that kiss could lead, and it didn't feel right, especially considering..."
"Considering what?" Secondo inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.
"...Considering you have a date," you replied.
Secondoâs gaze held deep emotions as he absorbed your words. âAh, the date,â he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. âItâs just a date, pasticcina.â
âHow come?â you inquired. âYouâve been preparing yourself for the last two days.â
He chuckled lightly, a softness in his eyes. âI need to tell you something about it."
"Look," you began, hugging your own arms around your body. "You don't have to."
"Paâ" Secondo started to protest.
You gently interjected, placing two of your fingers on his lips. "It's fine. You have your date. I was just confusing things, and we're just friends, right?" A small, reassuring smile graced your lips.
"Pasticcina..." he said against your fingers on his lips. He gently took your hand, the one that covered his lips, and brought it to his own cheek, holding it there. "Don't do it like that. Don't say things like that," his eyes pleaded with yours. "Listen to me."
You retracted your hand from his face and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's all fine," you whispered close to his cheek, hovering your nose near it. "I should be going now. I'm sorry for what I said at the confessional and for what I said now. I guess I just lost myself for a moment. That was a mistake."
As you uttered those words, you took a decisive step away from Secondo, moving towards the door. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the air, and amidst the charged atmosphere, you heard Secondo calling your name. The temptation to look back tugged at you, but you resisted. Turning back would only complicate things, and deep down, you knew you shouldn't. In the end, it all became a silent struggle between the desire to stay and the doubt if leaving was the right choice.
Lying in bed, you remained still, the passing minutes or perhaps hours slipping by unnoticed. The events of the previous night lingered in your thoughts, casting a peculiar spell over your mind. As you replayed the scene, questions swirled, and a prominent one stood out â why did he kiss you? The weight of that unanswered question settled in your mind, weaving a web of contemplation as the kiss seemed like a gesture of compassion, as if your revelation might prompt Secondo to grant you your deepest longing at that instant. However, he wouldn't behave in such a manner, not just with you, but with anyone else. This wasn't the Secondo you were familiar with.
Immersed in your contemplations, the persistent curiosity continued to tug at your thoughts. It resembled a puzzle with crucial pieces missing, each reflection spawning more unanswered questions. In an attempt to regain focus, you decided to rise, take a shower, and prepare for the day. As a member of his Clergy, your responsibilities called for attention, and dwelling on thoughts of him could no longer detain you in bed. Nevertheless, the images from the previous night lingered in your mind. A subtle but undeniable sense of change permeated your thoughts, leaving you with a perplexing feeling that the nature of this shift eluded your understanding.
Setting those lingering thoughts aside, you proceeded with your bath. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom and returned to your room to attire yourself for the day. Despite being plagued by the memory of Secondo's lingering kiss, you remained committed to fulfilling your duties, even if starting the day later than planned.
As you left your room and made your way to the cabinet, you hoped that immersing yourself in work would serve as a welcomed distraction. Your silent pleas for tranquility were directed to the Dark One as you navigated the corridors. In a way, you found yourself praying to avoid encountering Secondo, at least for the time being. Yet, it seemed the Dark One remained indifferent to your pleads.
"Deacon," Secondo's voice reached your ears as you halted in front of your door.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Papa," you acknowledged.
Secondo lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, then cleared his throat. "Iâ Will you be attending the lunch meeting today?"
"Maybe," you replied, uncertainty lacing your words.
Secondo's eyes held a subtle intensity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between you two from the previous night. As you exchanged glances, the atmosphere seemed to sway between hot and cold, the lingering memory of the kiss casting a shadow over you both.
"Maybe," you repeated, your response holding a hint of reservation.
"Decisions regarding the upcoming ritual need to be discussed," Secondo remarked, shifting the conversation. "Your presence is crucial in this, Deacon. The ritual details demand meticulous attention."
You nodded. "Certainly, Papa. However, I thought all the details had already been finalized."
Secondo parted his lips, seemingly about to say something, but the door to his office creaked open. A Sister of sin emerged, casting a curious glance in your direction.
"Papa," she called him, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"Ah, sorella," Secondo acknowledged, his focus briefly shifting. "Deacon, we shall resume this discussion later," he said it, entering his office.
You retreated from the corridor, entering your cabinet as the door to Secondo's office closed behind him and the Sister of sin. The encounter left a questions in your mind, a quiet curiosity about the identity of the sister and the nature of their interaction. Could she be the date Secondo had been preparing for? The thought lingered, but you pushed it aside, realizing that this wasn't the moment to dwell on such matters.
You had a portion of work to complete before the lunch meeting, and that became your immediate focus. Whoever the Sister in Secondo's office was creeping your thoughts. To the point you had to remind yourself: you're friends, he has a date, the kiss was a mistake, merely a result of your inadvertent encouragement. This internal mantra aimed to clear the air of any unresolved tensions as you delved into your tasks.
And then, doubts lingered in the recesses of your mind. What if you were wrong? What if Secondo desired the kiss as much as you did, and your inadvertent admission gave him the courage to express his own feelings? But you pushed aside those thoughts.
But, unfortunately, nothing could entirely distract you from the thoughts about Secondo and suddenly, you found yourself standing in front of his door, clutching some papers as a feeble excuse to engage in conversation. Hesitation seized you, torn between knocking and retreating. The uncertainty loomed, as if uttering words might unravel the mystery, yet also deepen the intricate layers of your connection with Secondo.
You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. A subtle anxiety crept in, contemplating the possibility that Secondo might be deliberately ignoring you. Knocking again, the silence persisted, leaving a sense of unease. Pressing your ear against the door, you strained to catch any sound from within. Unable to resist, you pushed the door open, only to find Secondo's office empty.
Surveying the room, you found no trace of Secondo, except for his mitra on the desk and his robe hanging in its usual spot. You stepped inside, making your way towards the desk. Your fingers traced the contours of his mitra, and a silent reflection crept you. With a sigh, you carefully placed the mitra back where it belonged.
Your fingers traced over some papers on top of his desk, absentmindedly observing them. Before you could delve into their contents, his office door swung open, prompting you to swiftly redirect your attention towards him as he entered.
"Deacon?" Secondo said as he entered the room, his gaze meeting yours.
"Papa," you responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.
He approached his desk, eyeing the papers you had touched with a subtle curiosity. "Is there something you need? How is work?"
"No, not really. I was just finalizing some documents for the upcoming ritual," you explained, your tone professional as you placed the folders on his desk. "Do you have any specific preferences or changes you'd like to make?"
Secondo paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "No, proceed as planned. But, that's something we should discuss at the lunch," he added.
"Understood," you replied.
"So shall we?" Secondo inquired, his eyes holding a subtle invitation.
"Shall we... what?" you responded, a touch of confusion in your tone.
"The lunch meeting," he clarified, his gaze lingering on you. "It's almost time for it."
âAlready?â you questioned, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. The realization hit you â you had been away from your cabinet since the early hours of the morning, losing track of your usual morning routine.
Turning your gaze back to him, you nodded in agreement. Secondo graciously pushed the door open for you, and you began to walk in its direction, with him following suit. As you both exited his office, Secondo closed the door behind him and gave a friendly pat on your back, signaling for you to start walking together. Following his lead, you stepped in stride with him.
"Papa," you called, turning to face him, your gaze seeking his attention.
"Hm?" he responded with a casual sound, maintaining his forward gaze.
"Are you okay?" you inquired, tilting your head.
"SĂŹ, Deacon," he replied. "You?"
"Good," you nodded, turning your attention back to the corridor.
As you both continued walking towards the meeting place, you noticed that Secondo's hand remained on your back, providing an oddly comforting yet tense sensation. The prolonged contact sent a subtle shiver through your entire body.
"Papa," you called out once more.
"SĂŹ?" he replied, his voice slightly raspy.
"About the ritual," you began, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Is everything in place?"
"As far as I know, everything is in order," he reassured.
"That's good to hear," you nodded, appreciatively.
"Of course," Secondo affirmed.
"Papâ"
Secondoâs hand left your back and gripped the back of your neck. In a swift motion, he turned, pressing you against the wall. However, his other hand intercepted the impact, ensuring your head wouldnât hit the hard surface. The unexpected closeness made your heart race as you locked eyes with him.
"Stop," Secondo's voice held a seriousness that caught you off guard. "Stop treating me like the others," he furrowed his brows. "You're not like that."
"But, we are in public, and normally I call youâ"
Secondo interjected, leaning closer, his hand finding the wall right next to your head. "There is no one around us."
"Does it matter?" you retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the closeness. "We have roles to play, Secondo. We are just keeping up with our roles."
His gaze lingered on yours, holding frustration and something deeper. "Our roles?" he scoffed. "We're not puppets, and this... pretending is driving me insane."
"You? Insane?" you challenged, your voice almost a whisper. "What are you trying to say, Secondo?"
He pulled back slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto yours. "I'm saying that..."
Before Secondo could say it, the distant sound of footsteps reached both of you, echoing through the corridor. Secondo swiftly pulled back, his expression unreadable. A shadowy figure approached the scene. It was a Sibling of Sin, their presence injecting an element of formality into the atmosphere. Secondo straightened himself, adopting a more composed demeanor.
The Sibling passed through, offering a polite nod to both of you. As she disappeared down the corridor, Secondo took a moment to compose himself. He resumed his walk to the lunch meeting, and you followed suit. An uneasy silence settled between the two of you, and perhaps for the first time, his silence weighed heavily on you.
Upon reaching the lunch meeting place, Secondo paused at the entrance. Sensing something amiss, you moved closer and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
âSecondo, are you okay?â you asked, concern etched on your face.
He cast a quick, vulnerable glance at you. "Iâ," he sighed and shifted his gaze to meet yours. "Did I mess everything up?"
"What are you talking about?" you inquired, your hand moving from his shoulder to gently cup his cheek.
Secondo took a deep breath, his eyes holding hesitation and longing. "About last night..." he began.
"What about it?" you asked, searching his eyes for clues.
"The kiss," he said, almost in a whisper. "Was it a mistake?"
Your heart fluttered, but you held back your true feelings. "Everything is okay, Secondo," you replied, offering a reassuring smile. "No need to worry about it."
Secondo's eyes lingered on yours, a silent plea hidden within them. "Deacon," he started.
Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. "Y-yes?" you inquired, your voice slightly shaky.
âI need to know,â Secondo began cautiously, âWas the kiss a mistake?â
âIt wasnât a mistake,â you admitted, âbut it was just a moment, right?â
He looked away for a moment, grappling with his own thoughts. âI donât want to complicate things,â he said.
You reached out and embraced Secondo. âIt doesnât have to complicate anything,â you whispered. âWeâre still friends. Donât worry.â
He hesitated for a moment, then his arms circled around you in return, holding you closer. Secondo pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. âI just donât want to lose what we have, pasticcina.â
You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his. âYou wonât,â you assured him. âNow, letâs go in for the lunch meeting, and we can talk about that later."
"No," he softly uttered, releasing your shoulders. "Deacon, we need to talk now."
"I'm listening," you replied, grabbing one of his hands.
But before he could say anything, the door of the meeting room where the lunch was happening opened, prompting you to release his hand. Turning your head, you looked at the ritualist who stood there in front of you, while Secondo's attention was solely fixed on the fact that you had left his hand. His gaze was locked on his hand without yours, seemingly indifferent to the presence of the ritualist.
"Papa!" he exclaimed, relief in his voice. "I was about to go find you," he said turning his eyes to you. "And I can see the Deacon will grace us with their presence today."
You nodded in acknowledgment with a polite smile. Secondo, however, maintained a stoic expression. The ritualist gestured toward the open door, signaling for you both to enter the meeting room. Secondo finally moved and entered, and you followed suit, stepping inside after him. As the ritualist closed the door and returned to his seat, Secondo turned to you, lowering his head closer to yours.
"We will talk later," he whispered, his words brushing close to your ear.
As he pulled away, you couldn't help but feel the lingering anticipation of a conversation yet to unfold. You looked at him, nodding slowly. Secondo shot you a small grin and moved towards the main chair. Taking a deep breath, you walked to your chair as well, settling in among the other members of the clergy.
As the lunch meeting unfolded, you found yourself engrossed in discussions about the upcoming ritual. The atmosphere was tense, with various opinions being exchanged. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, your eyes kept drifting to Secondo, who was seated across the room. You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you as well. Every time your eyes met, a subtle tension hung in the air, creating a silent dialogue that seemed to transcend the confines of the meeting room.
As the meeting concluded, Clergy members began rising from their seats, making their way towards the exit. You and Secondo followed suit, standing up to leave the room. Together, you walked back together towards your offices. Even in the short distance, you could feel the electrifying tension between you two. His hand brushed against yours a few times, sending a rush of warmth through your body, yet he didn't hold it. Instead, his pinky finger subtly grazed yours, a playful and intimate touch that made you blush.
Secondo's gaze swept over the surroundings, his hand gripping yours gently with interwoven fingers. "Are you too busy this afternoon?" he inquired, his voice lowered.
You turned to meet his gaze and shook your head in the negative.
"Molto bene," he nodded once. "So, would you come with me to my office, sĂŹ?"
"Y-yes..." you stammered, a lingering blush on your cheeks, and a newfound layer of shyness stemming from the gentle hold of his hand. "But why?"
"Because we need to talk," he replied.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, anxiety momentarily overshadowing the lingering shyness. You took a deep breath. "O-Of course."
He hummed in contentment, his lips curving into a grin as you continued walking to his office, hands still entwined. The sensation was almost overwhelming for you; feeling him this way was different. Though you had held hands before, this time it carried a distinct and unfamiliar weight. It felt differentâyou felt different.
Yet, this did little to soothe your nerves. Whatever he wanted to discuss was causing a ripple of worry within you. Today, Secondo seemed differentâsomewhat distant and cold, while also exuding a combination of incisiveness and sentimentality. However, beneath these conflicting emotions, there lingered a sense that he was grappling with something, something elusive that you couldn't quite decipher. The ambiguity might be attributed to his usual reserved demeanor or the enigmatic face paint that adeptly concealed his emotions when left unspoken.
Upon reaching his office, Secondo maintained his grip on your hand, and you could sense a subtle tightening as he reached for the doorknob. Deliberately turning it, he took a deep breath that caused his shoulders to rise. As the door swung open, he swiftly released your hand and stood motionless in front of the entrance. Intrigued, you took a step closer, realizing Terzo was inside the office.
Terzo turned his head towards the door, glancing at Secondo before directing a warm smile your way. "Secondo," he started, turning his gaze back to him. "I apologize for not waiting, but a sibling informed me you were in a lunch meeting, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem to come in."
Secondo chuckled lightly. "Nessun problema, Terzo," he replied, making his way into the office. "Cosa ti porta qui?"
"Solo alcune questioni da discutere e..." he paused, shifting his gaze in your direction. "Are you busy, fratello? I can come back later if you and Deacon were in the middle of something important."
Secondo glanced over his shoulder, and you responded with a gentle smile. "We..." He turned his body towards you, bringing the office door with him and briefly closing it behind him.
"We can talk later, don't worry," you reassured him in a soft tone as your eyes connected with his.
Secondo nodded, bringing his body closer to yours. His gaze alternated between your eyes and your lips, creating a subtle tension in the air. He took a deep breath, and you instinctively held yours, creating a moment of profound silence as you faced each other. His hand, having left the doorknob, gently cupped your cheek. In a tender gesture, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of the gesture lingering for what felt like an eternity.
Secondo withdrew his hand gently off your cheek, leaving you with a subtle shiver and a lingering yearning for the warmth of his touch. His gaze held yours, as if concealing untold sentiments, prompting you to tilt your head in curiosity. Secondo chuckled softly, shaking his head, and you responded with a gentle nod while gesturing towards the door. A sigh and a playful eye roll from him made you giggle silently, relishing the special way you both communicated without words.
His hand returned to the doorknob, and he slowly pushed the door open, walking backward into the room without breaking eye contact. Once inside, you bid him a little wave, and with a final glance, he closed the door.
You finally released the breath you were holding, closing your eyes for a moment as a smile painted your face. It was undeniably something new, a novel feeling, but this wasn't the moment for deep contemplation. Composing yourself, you opened your eyes and headed towards the door of your cabinet, conveniently located next to his office. With a swift motion, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you.
As you entered your cabinet, you realized that waiting for Secondo to finish whatever he was doing with Terzo would stretch the afternoon into seemingly endless hours of pure boredom. With everything settled for the ritual, your workload was minimal, and the waiting game became an exercise in patience.
The minutes dragged on, and you found yourself organizing your cabinet, rearranging things as a distraction from the persistent anticipation. However, the waiting made concentration difficult. Your thoughts kept circling back to what Secondo wanted to discuss, creating a feeling of uncertainty that hung heavily in the quiet space.
In an attempt to quell the restlessness, you picked up a few documents, but your mind struggled to focus. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation and making the afternoon feel interminable. The hours ahead stretched before you, laden with the weight of waiting.
After pacing back and forth in your cabinet for a while, you returned to your desk, sinking into your chair with a sigh. However, before you could settle in, a distinct knock echoed through your door. You turned your head towards it, recognizing it as his unmistakable pattern.
Swiftly getting up from your chair, you made your way to the door connecting your cabinet to his office. With a smooth motion, you opened it, revealing him on the other side.
"Hi," you greeted as your eyes locked.
Secondo casually lifted an arm, supporting it on the doorframe, leaning slightly in your direction. "Hi," he replied, his gaze focused on you.
The closeness of his presence prompted a subtle blush, but you composed yourself, taking a deep breath. "Was everything okay with Terzo?" you asked.
"SĂŹ," he nodded. "Niente di importante." His gaze held yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. Secondo straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a step closer. "Can we continue our talk?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and something you couldn't quite decipher.
You nodded. "Of course, Secondo. Let's talk."
As you gestured for him to enter your cabinet, he caught your wrist, leading you into his office. With his free hand, he closed the door behind you.
"Deacon," he said, however, before he could begin, a distinct knock echoed through the room. Secondo tried to ignore it, intending to continue the conversation, but another knock interrupted once again. "Not again," an exasperated sigh escaped Secondo. "Come with me, let them knock," he took you by the hand, steering you towards the archive room of his office.
âWhat are we doing here? We could have stayed at the office, whoever it was wouldn't come in,â your grip on his hand got firm. âI can smell the dust from this place,â you chuckled as he closed the door.
"I've been lying to you," he confessed, his words tumbling out rapidly.
Your eyes widened in surprise and nervousness. "Huh? What? What do you mean?" you inquired, the anxiety evident in your voice. "What are you saying? Lying to me? Since when? About what?"
"Let me explain," he sighed. "I've been lying to you because there was no date, no one else. It was just an excuse."
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? An excuse for what?"
He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening. "I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to take you on a date, but I didn't know how to do it without making things awkward. So, I said I had a date because I got nervous. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship or make you uncomfortable, I also couldn't bear the thought of you saying 'no'."
"That's quite a revelation," your voice dropped to a hushed tone, your eyes widening in understanding. "So, all those 'practice' sessions were just a pretext?"
Secondo nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bear the thought of hearing you reject me. The pain would be greater than finding myself in heaven instead of hell."
"Secondo, your honesty means a lot to me," you said in a low tone. "But, I'm confused. Why didn't you just ask?"
He paused before responding. "I was afraid it would change everything between us, and I didn't want to risk losing you. I thought this approach would give me a chance to muster the courage to speak up, but it didn't until now, or yesterday. The fact that I have kissed you the way I did, and hearing you calling it as a 'mistake' made feel like if I had ruined everything. When deep down... All I wanted was you to see a different side of me, to understand me better, and maybe... I don't know... see me? Admitting it now makes me feel foolish."
"Don't say that," you took a deep breath. "Secondo, you should have just asked me. You're not going to lose me, and you don't need excuses. I'm sorry for calling the kiss a mistake, but I thought it was based on the fact that you had a 'date' and I was trying to ignore the fact that I wanted that, that I wanted to kiss you, but I was telling myself how wrong it was to want you. But if you asked me on a date before, I would have said 'yes'."
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You mean all of that?"
"Yes," you said, your smile tender. "Well, initially, I'd might be a bit shocked, perhaps a little surprised if you called me on a date. I'd probably even think you were just being funny," you giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest and caressing it. "But, without a doubt, I would have said 'yes' because spending time with you is always good."
Secondo's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "Forgive me for being selfish," he said with sincerity.
A warm smile graced your lips. "Consider it forgiven."
Secondo's eyes searched yours, uncertainty reflecting in his gaze. "So, you'd go on a date with me?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.
With a playful smile, you reached up, gently cupping his face, and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips. As you pulled away from the kiss, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, I guess that answers your question, Secondo," you teased. "But only if you promise to not practice with me anymore."
He laughed. "Bene. No more practice, just real ones with you."
You nodded, and as the distance between you and Secondo closed, your lips found each other in a tender and sweet kiss. His hand, which had been holding yours, traced a path from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Simultaneously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth motion of his lips against yours.
The kiss unfolded in a slow and sweet rhythm, both of you cherishing the tenderness of the moment. As your arms enveloped each other, you could sense Secondo's faint smile against your lips. His hand left the small of your back and moved to your face, cupping it gently as he intensified the kiss. Feeling the warmth of his touch, you tilted your head, inviting him to deepen the connection. However, just as the intensity peaked, he pulled back abruptly and sneezed.
Your expression shifted from a dazed look to a bemused one as you realized the abrupt interruption. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you raised an amused eyebrow.
"Apologies," he managed to say between sneezes, the unexpected reaction making him chuckle heartily. "I guess I've made a wrong choice of place."
You chuckled in response. "Better for us to get out of here then," you said.
"Before we leave," he looked into your eyes, with seriousness and anticipation in his gaze. "I..." he began, causing you to tilt your head, curious about what was on his mind.
"You...?"
Secondo took a deep breath, and the words spilled out, "Would you allow me to take you on a proper date tonight?" A smile played on Secondo's lips, his eyes searching yours for a response.
You felt a flutter in your chest and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. "I would be delighted," you replied, your voice carrying a light teasing tone. "A proper date sounds like a wonderful idea."
Secondo's features softened, and he nodded appreciatively. The depths of his mismatched eyes held your attention. As Secondo leaned in, drawing closer to your face, you closed your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. However, just as you expected the connection to intensify, Secondo paused, pulling back abruptly to sneeze once again.
A laugh bubbled up from within you at the unexpected sneeze, and Secondo raised a questioning brow. He quickly shook his head, placing a finger to his lips in a playful hush. Without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, guiding you out of the archive room.
As you exited the archive room, returning to his office, Secondo gently pulled you closer and pressed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his thumb caressing the spot tenderly. "Can I pick you up at your room later?"
You nodded, a hint of timidity in your response.
Secondo grinned, pressing another kiss onto the back of your hand. He then placed your hand against his cheek, holding it there, cupping your hand with his. "I look forward to it," he replied with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on yours. Secondo's hand lingered, his fingers gently entwining with yours.
"You enjoy making me wait, don't you?" You teased retracting your hand from his face, slowly. "I'll see you later then."
As you turned to leave, Secondo gently caught your hand, pulling you back with a playful smile. "Only a little. Builds anticipation, sĂŹ?"
"I guess I'll have to endure the suspense then," you sighed with a touch of dramatic flair.
Secondo chuckled, gracefully letting go of your hand. "But wait, there's one more thing,"
Your curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What is it?"
Secondo cradled your face delicately with both hands, his touch tender, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, a gentle kiss landed on your forehead, and he looked down at you. "This is good."
"What is good?" you murmured.
"Le tue labbra," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning in for another tender kiss, capturing your lips in a moment of warmth.
The initial kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, as if savoring the taste of a forbidden fruit. It left a lingering sensation of ecstasy. Every touch of the lips sent shivers through both of you, creating an undeniable need for more. Both of you surrendered to that desire, and the kiss intensified, the connection growing deeper.
Secondo's hands, which initially cradled your face, now traced a path down your back, pulling you closer. The tender exploration of lips became more fervent, a dance of passion and longing. His lips moved with deliberate precision, molding against yours as if searching for a perfect fit.
His hands, warm and reassuring, traced gentle paths along your body, creating a sensory map of desire. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Secondo led you to his desk, leaning you against it with a controlled urgency. The kiss became a deeper exploration, his lips demanded more, conveying a hunger that echoed in the shared breaths and mingling sighs.
As the kiss intensified, your bodies pressed together, Secondo's hands explored the curves of your body, his touch gentle yet possessive. You pressed your body even closer to his, a silent invitation for more. Subtly, you spread your legs, granting him more space, and Secondo wasted no time. Almost instantly, he adjusted his position, aligning himself with the new angle.
His hands, now exploring the contours of your thighs, pulled your hips against his, placing your legs around his hips. The sudden shift made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips, as you felt his hardness pressing against the warmth between your legs.
The passion heightened and you found yourself instinctively grinding against him, a subtle and spontaneous movement that drew a low groan from Secondo. The sound reverberated through the room causing you to press your legs around his hips firmly.
Feeling the vibration of your response, Secondo gently pulled away from the kiss, both breathless and dazed. His hands, which had been on your thighs, now migrated to your face. He tilted it, giving him enough space to press a series of wet kisses onto your neck.
The wet warmth of his kisses left a trail of sensations, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you gently pressed your hands against his chest, guiding him away from your neck. Secondo gazed at you with a perplexed expression, prompting a chuckle from you. Closing the distance, you bestowed a tender peck on his lips, causing him to briefly close his eyes.
"If you keep going, our planned date might not happen," you whispered against his lips.
Secondo groaned in frustration. "And why is that?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.
"Because you're jumping straight to how I want the end of our date to be," you replied, biting your lower lip and trailing your hands down to his belly.
Secondo, with a tender smile, continued. "Now I can't wait for the later part of our date then."
You couldn't help but return his smile, "Well, if you manage to behave yourself now, I might just consider it."
He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Behave?" He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the epitome of good behavior, just for you."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. Secondo chuckled, withdrawing his hands from your face and guiding them back to your thighs, where he began to gently caress. His touch lingered for a while before he took a step back, allowing both of you ample space to recompose.
"At what hour should I pick you up?" Secondo asked, scratching the back of his head.
You paused, considering his question. "I don't have any more work today. Nothing urgent. If there's anything left for the ritual, I believe I've already provided it, and everything should be ready, right?"
Secondo smirked, his eyes locking onto yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to check some papers Terzo left for me."
Secondo let out a sigh, his eyes holding yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to review some documents Terzo left for me."
"Oh," you responded with a nod, making your way to his direction. "Certainly, what are you looking for?"
"I'd like you to carefully go through these papers, verify the information, and if any changes or corrections are needed, you know the routine, sĂŹ?" he explained, handing you the documents from his table.
"Absolutely, Secondo," you assured him, taking the papers. "I'll get on it right away. Since I have some work to do, I'll head back to my cabinet to focus on this task."
He reached for your waist, his thumb gently caressing it in small circles. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but you just have to give it a look and see if everything is in order," he stood up, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Now, any preferences for our evening plans?"
You pretended to ponder for a moment. "Hmm, surprise me. Just keep it interesting, and I'm all in."
Secondo nodded, and as you leaned in for a sweet moment, he did the same, resulting in a clumsy meeting of lips at the midpoint, sharing a gentle kiss at the corners of each other's mouths. Pulling back, you chuckled at the minor mishap, noticing Secondo furrowing his brows in annoyance. To prevent a repeat, Secondo cradled your head with both hands, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.
With that, you tilted your head towards him, subtly hinting at the desire for a more substantial kiss, and perhaps you were. Yet, Secondo didn't succumb to your charm. Instead, he gently held your chin and planted a delicate kiss on your lips, almost as if it were a feather-light caress.
You gazed at him, a mix of frustration and pleading in your eyes, your lips forming an almost pout. Secondo chuckled and shook his head. "As you mentioned earlier, we can't skip to the end of the date. Trust me, I'm just as eager to kiss you more. I've waited a long time for this," he admitted with a hint of longing.
"Have you?" you teased, biting your lower lip and looking at him with a mischievous glint. "How long?" you inquired in a hushed tone, leaning in. However, before you could bridge the gap, Secondo interrupted you by gently placing a finger on your lips. "Secâ!"
Before you could finish, he silenced you with a lingering kiss, interrupting your words. You smiled with his lips pressed against yours, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled back. You maintained your smile as his eyes met yours. Secondo hummed in contentment, though a hint in his eyes betrayed the restraint he exercised in not kissing you again as passionately as before. You, too, desired it, especially considering the consequences of that kiss, consequences you weren't sure you were ready to face.
Recognizing the temptation he exuded, you wondered if it was influenced by the power he held as the highest satanic figure in the ministry. It wouldn't be surprising, given his proximity to the Dark Lord. However, there were still tasks to attend to before the date.
Exiting his office, you gave him a wave, and his eyes lingered on you until you reached your cabinet, closing the door behind you. Moving directly to your desk, you neatly placed the papers on it, straightening your posture before settling into your chair.
As you delved into the papers, the initial set seemed routineâstandard proceedings of the ministry that required Secondo's signature. Everything appeared to be in order, so you moved on to the next document. However, the tone shifted when you encountered one discussing retirement. Your focus intensified as the words unfolded a revelation: Secondo was to be replaced by his younger brother, Terzo.
A sense of disbelief settled in as you retraced your steps to the first set of papers, realizing they were meant for the new leader, not Secondo. Continuing to read, the details painted a picture of a succession plan. After the upcoming ritual, Secondo was expected to prepare himself for the transition, handing over the reins to Terzo. The emotions intensifiedâshock, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease. You grappled with the unspoken truth that your moments with Secondo were poised on the edge of a significant change, a change he had kept concealed.
The documents unfolded like chapters in an unexpected narrative, each revelation carrying a weight that settled heavily on your shoulders. The impending succession, the shift in leadership, and the unspoken truths left you in a whirlwind of emotions. As you continued to read, the words became more than ink on paperâthey became the unraveling of a reality you hadn't anticipated. The emotions surged, astonishment, apprehension, and an underlying sense of loss.
As you absorbed the weight of the revelations, indignation surged through you. How could Secondo have given you those papers without a single word of explanation? The sense of betrayal fueled your urgency, and you sprang from your chair, marching toward his office with a storm of emotions brewing within you.
The door swung open forcefully, a loud bang echoing in the room, but to your dismay, all that greeted you was an empty chair. Secondo was nowhere to be found. Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, attempting to rein in the frustration and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. You felt the urge to confront him, to demand an explanation for this clandestine revelation, but reason prevailed. He was cunning, slipping away before you could confront him. However, you knew where to find him â soon enough, he would be in your room.
Resolute, you made your way to the main door of his office, pushing it open and stepping out, leaving behind the empty space. The corridors of the ministry felt like an intricate maze as you navigated through them, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about Secondo's impending retirement. The prospect of not seeing him with the same frequency, the shift in your role as his brother's Deacon, and the nagging question of why he hadn't shared this crucial information occupied your mind. Each step seemed to echo your internal turmoil, and as you approached your room, the heaviness in your heart became more pronounced.
Entering the room, you stripped away your clothes, preparing for a bath to ease the tension that had coiled within you. Submerged in the water, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, letting silent sobs meld with the sound of rushing water.
Emerging from the bath, you draped a towel around your body and returned to the room, contemplating the choice of your outfit. The question lingeredâdid it really matter how you dressed now? Nevertheless, you selected your clothes, arranging them on the bed. Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed inside your room, and you took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining appearances as you made your way towards it.
As you opened the door, there he stood, having changed his clothes already. The familiar scent of his cologne, intensified now, filled the air. The notes of the perfume, a strong blend of cedarwood and musk, lingered, creating an almost palpable atmosphere. He held a small bouquet of tulips in his hand. Though the bouquet consisted of just four tulips, the gesture felt both delicate and meaningful. The scent of the tulips added a layer of floral sweetness, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.
"Would it be better if I return later? I assumed you'd be ready by now," he questioned.
You took a steadying breath, trying to conceal the emotional turbulence as you faced Secondo at the doorway. "No, it's fine," you replied, managing a composed tone. "I was just deciding what to wear."
His grip on the bouquet tightened, betraying an underlying tension that mirrored the unspoken complexities of the situation. "Should I wait outside?" he offered, his eyes reflecting the uncertainty.
Shaking your head, your gaze pierced onto his. "No," your voice emerged slightly raspy. "Come in," you said, stepping away to grant him passage.
He entered your room, and a palpable air of unease enveloped the space. He cautiously closed the door behind him, and you turned away, pretending to focus on selecting an outfit from your wardrobe, although you had already placed the chosen outfit on your bed. The clothes blurred in front of you as you grappled with the turmoil within.
Placing the tulips delicately on the bedside table, Secondo's eyes lingered on the carefully chosen clothes you had laid out. With a subtle smile, he made his way towards you. "I know you've read the papers."
You turned to face him, your eyes revealing a tumult of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me, Secondo?"
He sighed, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right time or the right words. I didn't want to burden you."
Anger, hurt, and confusion battled within you. "So, you thought giving me the papers without a word was the solution?"
He reached for your hand. "No, it wasn't the right way. I should have told you, but I couldn't find a way to."
Inhaling deeply, you briefly covered your face with your hands. "Secondo, please, just be honest with me. What's going on? First, the lies about your date, and now you're keeping things from me. What's really happening?" You implored, uncovering your face as your hands fell away. "We've been friends for a long time, and this isn't like you. Just," you sighed, "tell me what's going on with you."
Secondo met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. âI didnât mean to keep anything from you,â he confessed. âItâs just⊠there are changes, and I wanted to handle them before burdening you with it. But you deserve honesty, and I owe you an explanation.â
You nodded.
"On the day of the lunch meeting, days ago, certain members of the Clergy made a private decision regarding my retirement from the position of Papa Emeritus. I assumed you were unaware, and I thought it best to keep it that way," he began with a heavy sigh. "Later, Terzo confronted me, questioning when I would muster the courage to confess my feelings for you. He believed that simply having you by my side every day would be enough, rather than openly expressing my emotions. This situation compelled me to make a decision, leading to the idea of asking you on a date. However, as you're well aware, it didn't exactly go as planned."
"Okay, I can understand that, but why didn't you tell me about your retirement?" you pressed.
"I was afraid it would make no difference at all, that you wouldn't care about who comes and goes. After all, it's just work, sĂŹ?" Secondo responded. "And if you did care, I was afraid of what that could possibly mean."
"No, it's not just work, Secondo. It's you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "Of course, it makes a difference. You're not just a colleague; you're my friend, the person I cherish the most in this Ministry. And now, you are... someone I... I'm seeing as more than just a friend."
Secondo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with a soft intensity. "Pasticcina," he began gently, "I should have been more transparent with you. I didn't want to burden you with the weight of it, but I see now that I made a mistake."
You met his gaze, emotions flickering in your eyes. "It's not just about work for me, Secondo. You're not just a passing presence."
He reached out, cupping your cheek tenderly. "You mean a lot to me too," he confessed, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "And it terrifies me to think that my decisions could jeopardize what we share."
"We share so much, and this is a significant part of your life," you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand offering solace. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to share this with me sooner."
"I know, pasticcina. I should have," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I see now that it was a mistake. I was foolish to think it wouldn't matter to you."
"It matters, Secondo. You matter," with a fragile smile, you whispered, "I don't want to lose you, Secondo. Not as a friend, not as... something more."
He sighed, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "You won't lose me. I may be retiring from this position, but I'm not going anywhere, especially not from your life."
You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt firmly. "I care about you, Secondo. More than I've allowed myself to admit. You mean more to me than I let myself acknowledge."
Secondo pulled back slightly, holding you at arm's length. "You are important to me, more than you realize."
"When did you find out about Terzo assuming the role of Papa Emeritus?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.
"I always knew," Secondo confessed, his hands sliding to yours, gently holding them. "It's like we all have an expiration date," he added, a wistful smile gracing his lips. Your chuckle echoed in the air, and he responded with a tender smile. "There you go... That's how I like to see you, con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso."
You sighed heavily, pulling him back to you and guiding his hands to your back. Obediently, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled your face onto his chest. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to the scent of his cologne, letting it envelop your senses.
"Mi dispiace," he uttered. "I promise I won't hide anything from you again."
"I knew that you'd retire from your role as Papa Emeritus at some point, Secondo. After all, I'm part of the Clergy," you whispered, your face pressed against his chest. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon, or that it would hurt me so much to see you go."
"Mi dispiace..." he whispered in a very low tone, almost inaudible.
"It's fine," you turned your face to him. "I understand you didn't do it to hurt me or anything like that. I know you well enough to understand why you made those decisions. But I also want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. You never had to," you said with a sweet smile on your face as you gently pulled away from the embrace. "But we have a date, right? Well, we've already had a couple of them, but today is an official one. So let's focus on us tonight, and tomorrow morning we can go back to being Papa Emeritus and Deacon."
"You're right, pasticcina," he acknowledged with a nod. "Tonight, let's concentrate solely on us and nothing else." Taking one of your hands, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of it. "Are you going to get dressed now?"
"Hm?" you looked down, noticing you were still wrapped in a towel. "Oh! Yes!" you chuckled, heading towards the bed.
Secondo tracked your movements, approaching you. "Are you planning to wear those?"
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding as you gathered the clothes from the bed. "But, why? Why do you ask?" A touch of nervousness tinged your inquiry. "Is there an issue?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "You'll look stunning in those, and I can't wait to see it."
"Secondo..." you said, turning to him with a shy smile.
The room fell into a hushed silence, and neither of you uttered a word. As you both stood there, locked in a silent exchange, Secondo moved decisively. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrist, drawing you closer to him. Your body collided against his, and in an unexpected turn, his lips fervently met yours. With widened eyes, you observed the shift from initial intensity to a more tender expression, his hands finding their way to your waist.
Secondo's hands held you firmly, conveying a sense of security as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you surrendered to the dance of tongues as his traced the contours of your lips. Your response was instinctive, parting your lips to welcome him. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his body against yours intensified the moment. His lips moved with practiced finesse, and the soft dance of his skilled tongue on yours cast a spell, leaving you under its bewitching allure.
The warmth of his body enveloped you, and the moment intensified as he continued to explore you with his hands. His touch, both firm and gentle, sent shivers down your spine as he traced intricate patterns on your back. Breaths mingled, sighs of surrender punctuated the air. His lips brushed yours, a delicate dance that evolved into passionate bites.
Your arms gracefully left his neck, and your hands descended to his chest, gently caressing it. As your fingers traced patterns, you felt the exposed part of his chest beneath your touch, as if he remembered what you had told him. A silent chuckle escaped you amidst the entwined kiss, one hand now delicately resting on the exposed skin.
Secondo gently withdrew from the kiss, creating a subtle distance while keeping his face intimately close to yours, his lips lingering in a tantalizing proximity. "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing," you chuckled, "I just can't help but find it amusing how you manage to be both charming and a tease all at once," your fingers trailed lightly along the contours of his chest as you replied. âAt least I find your teasing quite delightful, Secondo.â
He grinned, leaning in closer. âDelightful, sĂŹ?â His lips grazed yours with a tantalizing touch.
You playfully bit your lower lip. âVery.â
His breath hitched, and he murmured, âIs it fine to keep going?â
With a seductive smirk, you asked, âIs it fine to lose the date plans?â
Secondoâs eyes gleamed with desire. âPlans can be changed,â he confessed, his voice low and provocative. âWeâve had our dates, even if they werenât official. I believe itâs time to skip to the part where we honor our Dark Lord.â
"I guess it is," a mischievous glint mirrored in your eyes as you agreed.
Secondo executed a swift turn, guiding you toward the bed, causing you to walk backward until the plush mattress greeted your calves. Secondoâs hand skillfully lifted your leg, and his other hand moved to the back of your head. In one fluid motion, he laid you down on the bed. As you looked at him standing before you, a hint of desire lingering in the air, you couldnât help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. His gaze smoldering with intensity. He looked down at you, a commanding presence that sent shivers down your spine.
"What do we have here?" he purred, his voice low and demanding.
You met his gaze, your eyes filled with desire. "Just a willing Deacon, Secondo," you replied, a playful edge to your tone. Lifting one leg, you placed it on his thigh, delicately caressing it with your foot.
He crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours. "Willing, you say?" His hand traced a path along your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping. "Very willing."
A wicked grin played on Secondo's lips as he asserted, "Bene. Because tonight, you're mine," his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory glint. "Confess your sins to your Papa, what do you desire most in this moment?"
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a surge of arousal coursing through you. "I desire you, Secondo," you confessed, your voice laced with longing.
He grinned, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern on your skin. "That's what I like to hear, "his hands explored your body with confident precision, leaving no inch untouched. "I want you to say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
A mischievous smile played on your lips as you teased, âSay what, Secondo?â
His eyes darkened with desire. âSay youâre mine.â
A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded in agreement. "Yours, Secondo."
As you spoke, a devilish grin spread across Secondo's face. With a swift movement, his hand reached your face, closing the remaining gap between you two. In an unspoken agreement, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.
Inhaling deeply, your hands found their way to the back of his head, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Secondo lowered his body, creating an intimate connection as the warmth of his form pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat embrace.
A blaze seemed to ignite within you as the heat of his body melded with yours, prompting you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. Your hands traced over his back, fingers dancing along the contours of his muscles, exploring every inch of him in a fervent exploration.
Secondo's tongue delicately probed your lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth. The kiss intensified as he navigated every corner with his tongue. His arms ventured down, enveloping you and keeping you pressed against his firm chest. You could feel a growing bulge pressed against your stomach, sending a thrilling sensation coursing through your body.
A wave of pleasure surged through you as his tongue entwined with yours, eliciting a soft moan. The kiss deepened, reflecting the growing intensity of his desire. In response, you moved your hips against him, prompting a low groan to escape from him. He reached for your hips, pulling you firmly against him, now guiding the rhythm as he moved in tandem with your body. Your hands descended, gripping his firm backside, pulling him even closer to you. Slowly and deliberately, you parted your legs, inviting him to settle himself between them.
Complying with your desire, Secondo pressed himself more firmly between your legs, grinding his hardness against you.The increased pressure caused you to arch your back and neck, breaking the kiss as a soft moan escaped your lips. Sensations of arousal and heightened sensitivity coursed through your body.
Secondo trailed his nose and lips along your neck until he reached your lips. He pressed a lingering kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, pulling it in a soft bite before releasing it. When you turned your eyes to him, you found him grinning devilishly.
"I want you," you murmured, your voice low and husky.
He nodded, a gaze filled with desire in his eyes as his hand reached for the towel that somehow still clung to you. Casting a silent question in his look, you gave a nod in approval. Without hesitation, Secondo swiftly removed the towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.
The towel fell to the floor as Secondo positioned himself on his knees between your legs. His eyes traced every curve of your body while his hands followed the same path. Completely focused on your form, Secondo's firm touch left you melting beneath him. His hands journeyed from your chest to your belly before reaching down to caress both legs simultaneously, prompting you to part them even further. His gaze was enchanted by the unfolding view, causing him to bite his lower lip in an effort to stifle a groan.
You settled your legs on his thighs, sitting in front of him on the bed. Your face moved to his neck, planting kisses while your hands worked to unbutton his shirt. His hands guided you to his lap, bringing your bodies intimately together. Sensing his hardness pressed against you, you couldnât resist the temptation to grind against it. The friction heightened, and you felt the heat intensify between your legs.
"Pasticcina..." he moaned, closing his eyes, his hands gripping your hips firmly.
The intensity of your kisses on his neck increased, each tender caress leaving a trail of lust. His breath hitched with the rising passion, and you could feel the vibrations in his throat as he hummed in response to the sensations you were creating. You brushed your lips along his neck, tracing a delicate path until you reached his ear, where you nibbled on the lobe with a gentle tease. The tension in his body palpable as he groaned in pleasure. Pulling you closer, he pressed his hardness against you, his breath growing labored as he fought to maintain control. Swiftly, as you moved your head back to continue the kisses on the other side of his neck, he took charge, laying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, restraining your hands above your head.
Your eyes lingered on his body, tracing the contours of his muscular form. The sight of his physique, with a hint of a belly, didn't fail to stir desire within you. His chest, firm and adorned with chest hair that connected to the belly, drew your attention until it disappeared beneath his pants. The raw masculinity of his physique fueled the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but moan softly. The sight made you try to move your hands to touch him, only to remember he was holding them together. You turned your eyes to stare at him, and Secondo had a playful smile on his lips.
"What's funny?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your tone.
"Your face," he chuckled.
"Excuse me?" you demanded, attempting to free your hands from his grip.
Secondo lowered his face, closing the distance between your lips. "Your face," he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. "It's almost entirely painted in black," he continued whispering. "Because of my neck..." he licked your lips, coaxing you to part them slightly, giving him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately.
As Secondo released your hands, he shifted his focus, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, his warm lips exploring every inch of your skin. His journey continued down your chest, leaving a trail of desire until he reached your belly. Without hesitation, he ventured lower, between your legs, his strong hands spreading them gently. Secondo's touch explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The gentle yet firm caresses heightened the anticipation, and you could sense his warm breath against your skin as he inched closer to your wetness.
His eyes locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of desire and determination. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raspy with need. "I need to taste you," he declared, his lips beginning to explore your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he inched closer to your core. "I need to see the way you respond to my touch."
"P-please..." your plea escaped your lips in a desperate whisper.
He smiled against your skin, a glint of desire in his eyes. "You're so willing," he remarked, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.
Your moans filled the air as his tongue traced the contours of your core, your hips instinctively arching from the bed in response to the electrifying sensation. Unfazed, he took his time, savoring every inch of you, his tongue exploring and teasing your sensitive skin. With expert precision, he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your moans escalated with the relentless stimulation of his tongue around your clit. The desire to urge him not to stop lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the mutual groans exchanged between you and Secondo were testament enough. Overcome with pleasure, you trembled as one of his hands descended slowly to your entrance. A gasp escaped you as you clenched around nothing.
He descended, his mouth trailing towards your core. Using his fingers to part your entrance, he delved in with his tongue, exploring your inner walls with fervor. Your eyes fluttered backward in pleasure as Secondo intensified the pressure, his nose teasing your clit with each movement of his head. Deeper he went, tasting and savoring your essence. Pulling back momentarily to relish the sensation, he returned, this time focusing his mouth on your clit while his fingers met your entrance again.
A soft whine escaping your lips as Secondo continued to tease you. His fingers rubbed your entrance, a torturous trail up to your clit, trapping it gently between his fingers. "Just put it in, please, Secondo," you begged.
As he continued to suck and lick on your clit, Secondo slipped a finger inside you, curling it upwards to find your sweet spot. A gasp escaped your lips as he hit it, and he hummed contentedly. Relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, he sucked on your clit harder, causing your body to shake. Not satisfied with just one finger, he added another, thrusting them faster and harder. The intense sensations overwhelmed you as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers moved vigorously inside you, making you so wet that he could easily slide them in and out.
"You're..." you breathed, contorting your body. "You're... going to-ah!"
Secondo slid his fingers out from inside you and gave a final slow, torturous long lick on your wetness, his nose rubbing against your clit. "I'm going...?" he inquired as he supported his chin on your pubic mound.
You looked at his painted face, a mixture of grey and black and white due to your wetness. One of your hands went to his face, stroking his lips with your thumb as you attempted to clean it. "You're going..." your voice turned into a whimper as Secondo parted his lips, licking your thumb. "Secondo... You're going to make me cum..."
He grinned and shifted his weight, hovering over you. "I want to make you cum," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm going to make you cum so hard that coherent thoughts escape you. Do you want that, pasticcina?" he questioned, his voice low and husky, seeking confirmation.
You could only nod in response, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless. His fingers moved down your body, eliciting shivers, and a gasp escaped your lips as they found your clit, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. Your moans filled the room, hips instinctively responding to his touch. You reached down and grabbed his hand pressing it harder against your core.
With a teasing grin, he pulled his hand away and rose from the bed, making you whimper im frustration. His eyes locked onto yours as he began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, smirking slightly.
"I'm thinking about how much I want you."
A confident grin playing on his lips. "You won't have to wait much longer," he teased, letting his shirt drop to the floor.
Secondo unbuttoned his pants, maintaining the intense gaze between you. With a seductive smile, he let them slide down, revealing more of him. He stepped out of the pants, leaving him standing there completely exposed. You gasped at the sight, His member sprang free, hard and throbbing with desire. He stand there for a moment letting you take in sight of him. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, and sitting on the bed, you licked your lips. Extending your hand, you ran it up his thigh, sensing the muscles respond to your touch. As your fingers traced upward, they encircled his member. Initiating a gentle stroke.
"Mmm... That feels good," he moaned at the contact, his head falling back.
Your hand continuing to stroke him. You felt him twitch in your hand, and you watched as a drop of precum formed at the tip. You leaned down and licked it off, savoring the salty taste. âI agree,â you murmured, biting your lower lip as your gaze locked onto him.
He emitted a deep groan, his hips involuntarily rising towards your touch. With a smile, you leaned down, enveloping him with your mouth. His loud moan filled the room as you sucked on him, your tongue dancing around the tip of his member. His hands reached out, holding your head as he gently guided your movements, urging you on with needy moans. Each swirl of your tongue and every suction made him growl.
"Enough," he gasped, his voice strained with longing and restraint. "I need to be inside you."
With a fluid motion, you straightened your body, your hands gliding from his thighs to his chest, relishing the sensation of his hair brushing against your palms. As your hands reached his shoulders, you enveloped his neck with your arms, feeling the strength of his grip on your hips as he drew you nearer. The heat between you intensified, radiating from his body as his hardness pressed against your stomach.
"I think I can arrange that for you," you whispered.
Secondoâs hands trailed down your sides as he guided you to recline on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. With a graceful movement, he positioned himself above you, his body covering yours.
"I want to see your face as I enter you," he whispered, his voice low with desire. "I want to make you moan and writhe beneath me, to lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you," he added. "I want to hear your cries as I look you in the eyes," Secondo continued, his voice low and seductive.
You nodded, rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment as you awaited for him. Feeling the tip of him parting your folds, you quivered with anticipation. With a controlled movement, Secondo pressed the tip of his member against your entrance, his gaze ablaze with primal desire as he gradually eased himself into you. In one seamless motion, he filled you completely, stretching you.
"Oh, Satan..." you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper. "...So good," your hands instinctively found their way to his back, your fingertips digging into his skin.
As he started to move within you, a shudder of ecstasy rippled through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. His movements were deliberate. With a hypnotic rhythm, his hips moved in synchrony, exploring every inch of your being with a fervent determination. His hands trailed down your sides, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake, heightening the sensations pulsating through your body.
Leaning down, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate as he claimed you with the same intensity that he was claiming your body. You surrendered to the fervor of his lips on yours and of your bodies pressed together. Each brush of his mouth against yours ignited a wildfire of lust, consuming you. As the intensity of the kiss peaked, Secondo pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
"Youâre so beautiful," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with desire as he gazed into your eyes, his hands tenderly caressing your face. "I want to be the one to make you scream my name," he whispered. "I want to be the one who makes you forget everything else in this world."
"Make me scream for your name," you whispered, your voice a sultry invitation. "Take me. Claim me as yours."
With a deep, primal growl, Secondo's movements became slow and deliberate. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. As his tongue entwined with yours, the intensity of the kiss deepened. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a reverence that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you. Unable to contain the ecstasy building within you, you moaned into his mouth as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his hands and lips.
Breaking the kiss, Secondoâs heated gaze lingered on your lips before trailing down your body. With a low, lustful growl, he whispered, "You're intoxicating, irresistible, just like the flames of Satan himself."
Secondo shifted his weight, supporting himself on his hands planted firmly on the bed. His eyes remained locked with yours. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his arms, gripping them as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself to him completely. As you tightened around his member, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. With a fluid motion, he lowered his body onto yours, his weight pressing against you.
With a ragged breath, Secondo whispered hoarsely. "Cazzo, don't do that. Don't make yourself tighter than you already are..." His forehead pressed against yours, his voice filled with desire and restraint. "Merda, you take my cock so well."
You gasped at his words. "Ah-! And you fill me so good," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you met his gaze with fervor. "Fuck me, Secondo, faster."
Secondo's lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. "I want to devour you," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with need. "To lose myself in you."
"You feel so good inside me... I need to feel every inch of you," you said breathlessly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear.
"Then take all of me," he growled, moving his hands to your hips.
As he started to thrust his hips with growing intensity, the sensation of his fullness overwhelmed you. Each movement inside you was palpable, igniting a pleasure that bordered on unbearable. The rhythmic motion of his thrusts filled the room with the sound of your bodies moving together, mingling with the heady scent of arousal that hung in the air. With each breath, your lungs filled heavier, matching the increasing pace of his thrusts, driven by the rhythm of your bodies.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice hoarse with desire. "Yes, yes, just like that, Secondo! Don't stop!"
He intensified his movements, his hips thrusting faster and harder with each passionate stroke. The echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated throughout the room, a testament to the intensity of his desire as he pounded into you relentlessly. With each thrust, the pleasure within you surged, every inch of him filling you with a sensation that drove you crazy.
Moans escaped your lips with every rhythmic thrust, your body responding eagerly to his fervent thrusts. You felt the heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight bearing down on you as he held you close with an unyielding grip on your hips. The sound of his ragged breath mingled with yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronizing with your own in a primal dance of passion and lust.
You gasped out his name, your voice a breathless plea for more. "Yes, Secondo," you moaned, "Don't stop... I need you."
Secondo's response was a growl of approval, his movements becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely. "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours," he whispered huskily. "Completely and utterly yours."
The intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you, each sensation magnified by the heat and weight of his body atop yours. Despite the almost unbearable ecstasy coursing through you, the feeling of him inside you was intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more.
With a fluid motion, you wrapped your arms around Secondo's neck and your legs around his hips, shifting the positions effortlessly. Rolling your body with grace, you laid him down on the bed before positioning yourself on top of him. As you placed your hands on his chest, lifting your body to gaze down at him, Secondo's eyes widened in awe, his gaze fixed on you.
"What?" you chuckled softly as you ran your hands along his torso, caressing the contours of his chest with gentle strokes.
His breath caught in his throat as your touch sent shivers of pleasure racing through him. "You're... breathtaking," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with awe. "I can't believe you're real."
You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, I'm very real," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "And I'm all yours."
With a playful grin, you withdrew your face just out of Secondo's reach, teasing him as he attempted to close the gap between you. Lowering your hand, you seized his hardness, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Secondo's hands found their way to your waist, guiding you as you slowly positioned yourself above him.
You lowered yourself onto him, feeling the tip of his member parting your folds as it slid deep into you. A moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Secondo's hands tightened around your backside, gripping it firmly as he pulled you down onto him, meeting your movements with urgent thrusts of his own.
"Ah!" you moaned. "Fuck, Secondo! Oh fuck! Just like that, yes yes, don't stop," you cried out, your words a passionate plea for more.
You felt the firm grip of his hands on your ass, holding and pulling you down onto him with each powerful thrust. The intensity of his hardness inside you grew with every stroke, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. As he filled you completely, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body.
With a desperate need for more, you rolled your hips on top of him, seeking out additional friction and stimulation. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.
"I'm going to cum," you whimpered, your hips moving faster in search of release. "I'm going to cum, Secondo, please make me cum," you pleaded, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."
"Cum for me," Secondo pleaded, his voice filled with longing as he urged you to let go and release yourself. "I want to feel you cumming around me."
You cried out, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as the pleasure reached its peak. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, allowing it to consume you in a blissful haze of sensation and desire.
"I'm cumming," you moaned, your voice raw with desire as the pleasure crashed over you.
Your body tensed and convulsed around him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. With a final, deep thrust, he slammed his hips hard against you, anchoring you in place. His member twitched inside you, pulsating with the force of his release, and you moaned in ecstasy as you felt him empty himself deep within you.
The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. It took all your strength to hold on to him as the aftershocks rippled through your body, leaving you trembling in their wake. Your body collapsed on top of his, both of you breathing heavily and fast.
With tenderness in his touch, Secondo's hand left your backside and trailed gently along the curve of your back until it reached your head. He gently guided your face towards his, his tired smile reflecting the exhaustion and satisfaction. As his lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a sense of contentment washed over you both. With a deep sigh, Secondo laid his back against the pillows.
With a hesitant start, you broke the silence. "So... What was the original plan for tonight?"
His gaze softened as he replied, "I was going to take you out for dinner." He traced patterns on your back as he continued, "Give you the flowers, we would have a nice talk, eat some delicious food, enjoy a drink," his voice trailed off wistfully, "and if you wanted to, we could end up with a kiss..."
"A kiss?" you echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was that part of the plan too?"
He met your gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Only if you wanted it too."
You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "Do you think we could still salvage the first part of our date?"
"I'd love to," he replied, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "However, I don't think it's possible because I had reservations for us, and I think we may have lost the hour."
"You think?" You playfully arched a brow. "That's fine," you reassured him with a smile. "At least we had dessert."
He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Am I dessert now?"
You grinned mischievously. "The most delightful one."
With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned closer. "Come here then, let me give you another taste of it."
Secondo shifted his body on top of yours, his touch gentle as he cupped your cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your skin. With a softness that belied the intensity of the moment, his lips found yours in a tender kiss.
Grammar
Quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini - Those silly old men
Pasticcina - Little pastry
Impressionante - Impressive
SĂŹ - Yes
Grazie - Thank you
Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo - Genuine, attentive, and considerate. I can do that
Mi dispiace - I'm sorry
Nessun problema - No problem
Cretino - Idiot
Bene - Good
Molto bene - Very good
Cosa ti porta qui? - What brings you here?
Solo alcune questioni da discutere e... - Just some matters to discuss, and...
Fratello - Brother
Niente di importante - Nothing important
Le tue labbra - Your lips
Con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso - With that pretty smile on your face
Nice slow-ish burn going on with a very hot, very masculine Secondo here â€ïžâđ„â€ïžâđ„â€ïžâđ„ I also liked the Italian vocab at the end âșïž the nickname is adorable xoxo
Thank you so much for reading it and I'm so glad you enjoyed. I must confess that I spent some time trying to figure out which nickname I'd make Secondo use because I wanted something different, and I don't know, the "pasticcina" just felt somehow.. right? By the vision I have of Secondo and by what it means, I feel like that's something he could say.
Silent bonds: Papa Emeritus II x AFAB!Reader (4 Chapters in 1 Post)
Summary: You and Secondo have shared a lasting friendship since he became the Papa Emeritus II. As he immerses himself in preparations for an impending date, latent feelings begin to surface, raising the question of whether your relationship can evolve beyond friendship.
Words: 26.401
Warnings: Light Angst (insecurity) | Fluff | Smut (teasing; cunnilingus; fingering; oral sex; dirty talk; unprotected sex; p in v; breeding) | Italian swearing | Swearing | Reader is described as AFAB, but "Deacon" is used as Gender Neutral term.
Available on AO3 divided by 4 Chapters
A rhythmic knock resonated through the door connecting your office to the Papa's, drawing your attention away from the papers on your desk. Given the hour, it wasn't unexpected for him to seek you out for more tasks or discussions. With a deep breath, you acknowledged the familiar sound with a smile, allowing yourself a brief stretch to ease the tension in your back and eyes.
"Enter," you uttered, rising from your chair.
Upon the door's creaking open, he peered into your cabinet, scanning the space until his eyes rested on you. Secondo, the Papa Emeritus II from the Ministry where you worked as a Deacon, had been a close friend for many years. While others might find the idea of being friends with Secondo peculiar, you saw nothing odd about it. Being his friend wasn't strange; it was a privilege. Secondo was sweet, funny, caring, a bit of a teaser, and remarkably intelligent. People often mistook him for someone serious, devoid of humor, or as someone who seldom smiled, but you knew better. The Secondo you were friends with was far from those misconceptions.
Yet, today, something felt different. Typically, a smile would grace his lips when his eyes met yours upon entering your cabinet. As he stepped inside, you circled your table, coming to a stop with one hand on the desk and the other on your waist, observing him approaching. Without a word, he slumped into one of the chairs facing your desk. A silent chuckle escaped you as you turned towards him. No words were necessary; a tilt of your head conveyed the inquiry, prompting him to throw his head back in annoyance, the frustration evident in the sound he made.
"So...?" A soft chuckle escaped you as you playfully nudged his calf with your foot, prompting him to lift his head and meet your gaze.
Secondo settled more comfortably into the chair, offering you a small smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. "I won't forgive you for not showing up," he muttered, a trace of annoyance in his tone.
You gasped, mockingly placing a hand over your chest. "How dare you?"
"No, how dare you not come," he retorted, shaking his head disapprovingly.
"Someone has to do the important work," you teased, smirking.
He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide a smirk. "And I suppose that someone is you, sĂŹ?"
You grinned, meeting his gaze. "Perhaps."
"Perhaps," he repeated with a nod.
You leaned against the edge of your desk, crossing your arms. "How was the lunch?"
"Same as usual, Deacon. Endless discussions about the future of the Ministry. Nothing out of the ordinary," he sighed.
"And what about the Clergy today?"
"The Clergy... quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini," he grumbled, frustration etching lines on his face. "You really can't keep skipping the lunch meetings."
A defiant smirk played on your lips as you replied, "Oh, I can, and I will. None of them can utter a single objection, and I'll make sure of it."
Secondo's lips curled into a wry smile, a certain amusement glinting in his eyes as he listened to your words. It reminded you of the times he had praised your steadfast demeanor, expressing his admiration for how you refused to be intimidated, especially by the imposing figures of the Clergy. He had commended your ability to wield your authority confidently, acknowledging the power you held and the way you wielded it.
"Your defiance is a rare trait," Secondo remarked, his tone a mix of approval and amusement.
You chuckled, appreciating Secondo's words. "Well, I learned from the best," you quipped, giving him a sly look.
Secondo's laughter resonated, and he nodded in agreement. He shifted his gaze to a distant corner, his eyes taking on a contemplative expression as if lost in thought. "Ah!" Secondo exclaimed, a sudden realization lighting up his features.
"What!?"
Rising from the chair, Secondo turned toward the door. "Follow me to my office."
Following Secondo, you walked toward the door linking your cabinet to his office. As the Deacon of the Ministry, your closer collaboration with him was an unspoken privilege. However, he'd never admit to such favoritism, even to you. Your role as a Deacon involved working closely with higher-ranking members, including the Papa Emeritus, to implement organizational goals and initiatives.
Your role within the Ministry was multifaceted, blending administrative prowess with a deep understanding of the sacred rituals and traditions. Your responsibilities extended beyond mere paperwork, delving into the intricacies of maintaining the Ministry's sanctity and efficiency. With each document meticulously scrutinized, you ensured that the delicate balance between tradition and progress was upheld. Your work bore the weight of the Ministry's legacy, and you navigated through the bureaucracy with the precision of a seasoned diplomat.
At least, that was the explanation Secondo would offer to anyone questioning potential privileges, underlining the professional nature of your connection.
Reaching for the door, Secondo stood beside it, gesturing for you to enter his office. With a nod of gratitude, you stepped inside, and he followed, leaving the door ajar. Moving from behind you, Secondo approached his desk, while you stood closer to the door, observing him as he sifted through folders atop his desk.
"More work for me?" you inquired with curiosity.
"I'm afraid so," he replied. "I need you to wrap up those files for the upcoming ritual."
"Oh!" you exclaimed, stepping closer to his desk, hands tucked behind your back. "Of course, Papa."
"We've talked about this; stop calling me Papa," he said, lifting his eyes to meet yours. "Papa is reserved for public moments. You know I'm fine with you using my name when it's just us, as we always have."
"Alright," you said, bringing your hands to rest on his desk, leaning slightly. "Se-con-do," you playfully spelled out his name, causing him to huff, and you suppressed a silent giggle.
"That's better," he said, extending a folder towards you.
"Is it?" you asked, with a mocking tone.
"The folder," he reminded, gesturing with the document in his hand.
"For when do you need those?" you inquired, your fingers lightly tapping on the edge of his desk.
"Tonight would be ideal," he said, glancing up at you. "We need everything in order before the Clergy starts poking their noses where they don't belong."
"I'll ensure everything is organized," you started. "But, can't it be for tomorrow morning, Papa?"
"Pasticcina..." he uttered your nickname with a serious tone. He didn't use it often, but when he did, there were hidden meanings, and you had grown accustomed to interpreting them based on the tone he employed.
"Fine," you replied, turning your back and making your way back to your cabinet. The sound of him clearing his throat halted your steps, prompting you to turn back. "Yes?"
He met your gaze. "I know you'll finish those tonight. If there's someone who can do it, that one is you, sĂŹ?"
You chuckled and nodded. "Of course, Pa-pa," you lingered on his title, relishing the pronunciation, before stepping back into your cabinet and closing the door behind you.
You returned to your desk, knowing that the remainder of the afternoon would be consumed by the documents from the folder he had given you. Yet, it was within the scope of your duties at the Ministry, so there was no room for complaints. Besides, you were assisting a friend, and that fact alone made the task more bearable.
Placing the folder on your desk, you sighed as you glanced at the other ones you had already started reading and organizing. It promised to be a long afternoon. With a deliberate exhale, you settled into your chair, redirecting your attention to the documents you were checking before Secondo entered your cabinet. Determination fueled your focus as you aimed to complete them before tackling the new files he had entrusted to you.
As the hours passed, the ambient light in your office shifted from the warm glow of the afternoon to the subdued hues of evening. The rhythmic tick of the clock on your wall was a steady companion as you delved into the complexities of your tasks. Lost in the labyrinth of paperwork, you were only stirred by the soft knock on your door linked to Secondo's office.
You raised your head to look at the door, and the realization that night had settled outside your window dawned upon you. You sighed, feeling the strain in your shoulders, and stretched your back, the subtle crackle providing momentary relief, before rubbing your eyes.
"Come in," you said with a tired voice, followed by a yawn.
As the door opened, Secondo stepped inside, his discerning eyes catching the subtle signs of your diligence. You smiled at him, leaning back in your chair. You noticed he had already discarded his Papa robes, now wearing only his customary full black outfit underneath. Like you, his expression, though obscured by the skull face paint, hinted at weariness.
Closing the door behind him, Secondo made his way to your desk, and your eyes followed his steps through the cabinet until he reached for the chair he had occupied earlier that afternoon. With a deep breath, he settled into the seat.
"I hope I'm not interrupting," he remarked, his gaze lingering on the scattered papers.
"Just a momentary break," you replied, offering a weary but genuine smile.
Secondo reached for the folders on your desk, his fingers tracing the edges as he inquired, "Did you manage to finish it?"
"I did," you replied, a note of accomplishment in your voice. "Not only that, but I also finished the files you handed me this morning," you held out the organized folders, presenting them to Secondo.
His eyes narrowed slightly, with surprise and approval. "Impressionante," he remarked, taking the folders from you and deftly opening one to inspect the documents.
"It's my duty, Secondo," you responded.
He hummed in appreciation. "Can I ask you one more thing before you go?" Secondo's gaze met yours, a request lingering in his eyes.
You nodded.
"Would you..." His words trailed off as he diverted his gaze for a moment, a subtle hint of hesitation tainting his expression.
"Assist you with a new speech for the ritual?" you asked.
"No, I..." he started and sighed. "I have a date," he casually revealed.
"What?" your voice betrayed with surprise and disbelief. "When?"
"In some few days," Secondo sighed, his gaze momentarily distant as if contemplating his own decision. "I decided to... try something different," he admitted, his voice carrying a tinge of mystery and a hint of reluctance.
You arched an eyebrow, sensing the unusual weight behind his words. "Different? A date?" you teased.
"It's not a usual occurrence for me, as you well know," he grunted, a faint annoyance lingering in his expression. "Call it a whim, if you will. Just don't make it more than it is," Secondo glanced at you, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "It's just a dinner."
"Just dinner?" you repeated, eyebrows raised. "You're being unusually vague, Secondo."
He shrugged, his expression nonchalant. "I don't want to overthink it. It's just dinner, nothing more."
You tilted your head, studying him. "What did you need my help with?" you inquired.
He unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, rolling his sleeves up with a nonchalant air. "I just need some advice on conversation topics, maybe some dating tips; for now," he explained, a touch of vulnerability beneath his usual composed demeanor.
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "The great Secondo, seeking dating advice? Now, that's new."
He shot you a deadpan look, unamused. "Don't make a big deal out of it. It's just an experiment."
You chuckled. "Experiment or not, I'm honored to be the dating consultant for Papa Emeritus II. So, tell me about the details. Who's the lucky person?"
He hesitated for a moment before revealing, "It's someone from the Ministry."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Do I know them?"
He shrugged nonchalantly. "It doesn't matter," Secondo looked at you, a subtle intensity in his eyes.
"Fine," you rolled your eyes. "Sure, we can practice, but your level of commitment for what you call 'just dinner' is certainly something else."
He leaned against your desk, a subtle smirk playing on your lips. "Are you testing me?"
"Not at all. I wouldn't dare to test the almighty, the unholiest Papa Emeritus II," you said, your eyes gleaming with playful mischief.
He chuckled, a low hum following suit. "So, any suggestions for romantic conversation topics?"
You thought for a moment, tapping your fingers on the desk. "Well, what do you enjoy doing? Talk about your interests, and see if you have any common hobbies. You know, things you're passionate about."
He leaned back, considering your words. "Like what?"
"Secondo," you giggled. "You really never had been on a proper date?"
"I had some dates in the past," he admitted.
"I meant a proper one, with more talk than moans," you teased.
"Maybe not that many, then," he conceded with a smirk. "I just need some practice."
You chuckled at his response. "Alright, let's practice. Pretend I'm your date. Talk to me about something you're genuinely interested in."
He raised an eyebrow, glancing around the cabinet as if searching for inspiration. "I... well, I appreciate... Satanism."
"That's a start," you encouraged. "But, considering I already know your role as Papa in a Satanic Ministry, let's try something else, shall we?"
He huffed, crossing his arms. âI also have a passion for cooking.â
"Do you!?" you exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "Why didn't you tell me about that?"
"Perhaps because we've never been on a date?" he teased, a subtle smile gracing the corner of his lips.
"Very funny, Secondo," you retorted. "What do you enjoy cooking?"
He pondered for a moment. "My mom taught me how to cook when I was younger, back before I moved here to the Ministry. So, in the days before I came to live here with my father, Primo and Terzo, she would prepare and teach me the recipes from her homeland. But, as you already know, since we used to live in Italy, she always found a way to blend both cuisines into one. So the short answer would be that I enjoy cook everything my mom taught me."
You listened attentively, nodding. "That's cuâbetter!" you quickly corrected yourself. "What more about you would you like to share?"
"I enjoy literature as well," he relaxed his posture, his arms uncrossed. "Particularly when it delves into the darker facets of human nature."
"That's interesting," you smiled at him.
"Is it?" he asked, tilting his head inquisitively.
You nodded in affirmation, mirroring his head tilt. "Which authors do you like?"
His eyes rolled upward in contemplation before returning to meet yours, locking gazes. "Lately, I've delved into 'The Masque of the Red Death' by Edgar Allan Poe."
You leaned in a bit, your eyes searching his. "And what is it about?" The question hung in the air, almost a murmur.
Secondo, responding to your intrigue, moved closer to your desk, resting his arms on it. "Mortality, decadence, and the inevitability of death."
Your eyes held his, and a subtle smile played on your lips. "It suits your taste, doesn't it?" The words slipped from your lips almost playfully.
For a moment, a silent exchange lingered between you, both locked in a gaze that held a subtle dance of unspoken sentiments. The back-and-forth felt almost automatic, a flow of words and glances that hung in the air. However, as the silence stretched, you broke the connection, blinking slowly and shifting your gaze to another corner of the room. The unspoken tension lingered, suspended in the quiet space between you.
"Now, should I ask you about your interests?" he asked, his gaze focused on you.
You leaned back, considering his question with a playful glint in your eyes. "Yes, feel free to ask."
He chuckled, a genuine warmth in his tone. "Molto bene, pasticcina... what are your passions?"
You smirked, playing along. "Well, I also have an appreciation for Satanism, though I suppose you know."
He chuckled. "Indeed, pasticcina. What more?"
You continued the playful practice, seamlessly transitioning from the hypothetical to the personal. As you delved into the conversation, Secondo surprised you with his genuine curiosity. He asked about your favorite dishes, the kind of music you liked, and even your preferred getaway destinations.
You found yourself opening up about your passions and quirks. Surprisingly, Secondo's interest wasn't feigned; he listened attentively, occasionally sharing his own preferences. A long time ago, you noticed that he genuinely enjoyed moments when you would talk at length, silently absorbing your words. And according to him, listening to you was a way for him to relax after a stressful or long day. It felt as if Secondo was peeling away the layers of formality, revealing a more personal side that you rarely glimpsed. His responses were not mere nods or brief acknowledgments; instead, he engaged with a genuine interest that touched your heart.
As you spoke, you couldn't help but appreciate the sincerity in Secondo's gaze. His eyes, usually carrying a weight of responsibilities and authority, softened into a more tender expression. It was as if, in this moment, the roles that defined your relationship were momentarily set aside, allowing a deeper connection to emerge.
"Ok, my time now! Whatâs your favorite memory from when you moved here?" you asked, resting your face on your hand as you stared at him.
"Favorite memory?" Secondo mused, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. "I used to sneak into the Chapel for late-night fake rituals with Terzo. We used to explore the rooms behind the Chapel."
Intrigued, you leaned forward. "Rooms? Behind the Chapel?"
He grinned, revealing a glimpse of mischief. "We would sneak around after official hours, inventing stories about rituals we'd perform once we became Papa Emeritus."
You chuckled, "Did you three ever get caught?"
"More times than weâd like to admit," he admitted with a laugh.
"Who would've thought you were a rebel in your youth," you teased, pointing playfully at Secondo.
He responded with a sly smile, reaching for your hand and lightly touching his index finger to the one you were pointing at him. "There are probably some things you don't know about me, pasticcina."
A warmth spread through you, and you pulled away your finger, shaking your head with a slight blush. "I bet I don't. After all, I just discovered today that you can cook!'"
Secondo chuckled, leaning back in his chair, his eyes locked with yours. "A well-hidden talent, wouldn't you say? Maybe I have more surprises up my sleeves."
You couldn't help but smirk, leaning forward slightly. "I'm intrigued."
He leaned in as well, the desk between you feeling like an invisible boundary. "Are you, pasticcina?"
"Very much. Why? Shouldn't I?" you asked with a playful glint in your eyes.
He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I can't tell you what to do, sĂŹ? Or maybe I can, as the Papa."
You laughed at his words and shook your head. "Yes, you're the Papa. And you're not my boss, so technically, you can't dictate my actions. Though, I must admit, sometimes you seem to believe otherwise," you added, flashing him a sweet smile.
"Pasticcina, you're forgetting that I'm Papa Emerius II of this Ministry. So, yes, technically, I'm the boss," he said, crossing his legs.
"Well, Papa Emeritus II, even if you're the boss you've always respected my autonomy. So I guess that's the reason we get along so well," you teased, giving him a knowing look.
He smirked, the twinkle of mischief present in his eyes. "You're right, I could never bring myself to dictate your actions. That's not something I desire. Especially in our circumstances."
"Our circumstances?" you laughed lightheartedly, shaking your head. "Any more hidden talents or skills you're keeping from me?"
Secondo's gaze intensified, and he leaned even closer. "Maybe you need to find out for yourself. I could surprise you one of these days."
You leaned back, feigning casualness, yet your eyes didn't leave his. "Surprises, huh? Maybe I also have a few tricks up my sleeve as well."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his gaze. "Do you?"
"Maybe," you admitted with a playful smile.
"Will you share them with me?"
"Absolutely not," you responded, shaking your head with a teasing grin. "Just like you, I'll keep my mysteries hidden," you pointed a playful finger at him. "But, I just hope that one day, I'll understand your enigmas."
He chuckled, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "I doubt you'll unravel all my mysteries. Some are meant to be kept, sĂŹ?" Secondo chuckled, rising from the chair with the folders in hand. "Grazie for practicing with me."
"Are we finished already?" you questioned, giving him a certain look. You didn't want this brief exchange between the two of you to come to an end.
"SĂŹ, we are," he nodded in confirmation, his eyes reflecting gratitude.
"Well, in that case, no need to thank me; I'm here for it," you reassured him, a genuine warmth evident in your tone. "We're friends, after all."
"You should go now, rest. It's late," he said, stretching his back.
You stood up from your chair, your gaze locked with his. "What about you?"
"I'll place these in the archives and then head to my chambers," he explained.
"Do you want me to come with you?" you offered, circling your table to stand by his side.
Secondo turned to face you, a gentle smile on his lips as he shook his head. Placing his hand on your cheek, he said, "I won't ask for more favors today. Go, rest, and I'll see you tomorrow." His touch lingered for a moment before he withdrew his hand.
"Fine," you huffed playfully. "But don't overwork."
"I won't, I promise," he replied, his eyes holding a sincerity.
You nodded, looking at him. Your eyes remained locked, holding onto each other's gaze. There was a peculiar intensity in the air, as if an unspoken connection lingered between you two.
"Before you leave," he said, stepping closer to you. "I do have a question."
"Well, it seems there's more for me tonight," you teased, chuckling. "Ask away."
"Just one question," he replied. "Let's imagine this is our first day together, you know, as my date," he said nervously. "How should I go about things at the end?"
"Well, it all depends on how the date goes," you responded with a thoughtful smile. "What happens next, really depends on the person you're with. Some might appreciate a goodnight kiss, while others might prefer a more reserved end to the evening. Best to gauge their preferences and perhaps just ask." You couldn't resist teasing him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Now, if by 'ending the night' you're referring to something more... intimate," you paused, a sly grin forming, "well, that also depends, Secondo. It's mostly up to your partner's comfort and desires. If they're up for it, great. If not, you might want to exercise a bit more patience and wait for the right moment."
Secondo chuckled, shaking his head. "No, no, that's not what I was getting at," he clarified. "I'm not... thinking about anything too intimate for the first date. I just want to make sure I don't mess up the next steps. I'd like the date to be successful and maybe open the door for a second one."
You couldn't help but laugh at the misunderstanding. "Got it. It's always good to clarify these things. In that case, just be genuine, attentive, and considerate. If the connection is there, everything else will naturally fall into place."
Secondo nodded appreciatively. "Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo."
You grinned, offering a playful wink. "Exactly. And remember, if the date is going well, you'll sense it. If there's a good connection, you might even feel a spark. Just be yourself, and it'll all work out."
He smiled in response. "Grazie. I'll keep that in mind. Now, I should let you go. Don't want to keep you from your evening plans."
"Evening plans?" you chuckled. "More like bedtime plans. I just need to sle..."
Your words trailed off as Secondo delicately took hold of your hand, drawing it closer to his face. He pressed a soft kiss onto the back of it, his lips brushing smoothly, and his nose causing a delightful shiver to run down your spine. Secondo released your hand and raised his face to look at you again.
"Hope you have a good night," he whispered in a low, rough tone.
You nodded and you turned to leave, for some reason, you weren't feeling inclined to leave him tonight, prompting you to force yourself to look away. Giving him a warm smile, you made your way to the front door of your cabinet, opening it. You turned to face him for a last time and waved, a strange pull tugged at something inside you. Yet, without hesitating anymore, you left your cabinet, closing the door behind you. The corridor outside seemed quieter, the echoes of your footsteps resonating as you walked away. The night held a hint of something you couldn't figure out, but you pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the need for rest. Tomorrow would bring a new day.
The morning found you in the meeting room, surrounded by the table filled with members of the Clergy. Secondo occupied the central chair, presiding over the gathering. Annoyance lingered in the air, exacerbated by the early hour that seemed unfit for such deliberations. Yet, there you were, seated in your chair, contemplating the tedious proceedings. It was too early for such matters, and the weight of the Clergy's expectations pressed heavily on your shoulders. Despite the internal discontent, you maintained a composed exterior.
"How about we add a dance routine to the ritual, spice things up a bit?" one of the counselors inquired.
Secondo raised an eyebrow. "We're not putting on a show; it's a sacred ritual, not a ballroom."
"How about we all don hooded robes?" the Magister suggested, his tone edged with a touch too much enthusiasm.
"Are you aspiring to be one of my ghouls?" Secondo questioned with a stern undertone, tapping his fingers on the table's surface.
"No, Papa. I apologize," the Magister replied, a hint of embarrassment coloring his voice.
Secondo sighed, his demeanor maintaining seriousness. "This is not a celebration; we strive for solemnity and reverence." He then turned to you. "Deacon, any suggestions?"
"Uh...How about we emphasize the significance of sin and purpose? You can give a solemn speech about it," you spoke with conviction, "Also, what about a ritualistic chant? A collective recitation to honor our Dark Lord."
Secondo stared at you for a moment in silence, then nodded approvingly. "A return to our traditions. I appreciate it, Deacon. Let's proceed with that direction, we need a ritual that aligns with our satanic traditions."
The members of the Clergy grumbled, but Secondo's decision remained unyielding. After all, he held the esteemed position of Papa Emeritus. While there were murmurs of discontent, there was an understanding that his word carried undeniable weight. Somehow, it felt like as if being part of the Clergy and his friend, provided a unique privilege, granting you proximity to Secondo's decisions and shaping the path of the Ministry.
Beyond the friendship you shared with Secondo, which allowed you to know him on a personal level, your role as his Deacon gave you insight into his vision for the Ministry. This deeper understanding empowered you to offer suggestions that aligned with his aspirations, making your contributions more impactful.
In other words, you knew him.
As the members of the Clergy dispersed at his dismissal, Secondo remained seated in his chair, and you in yours, waiting until the last member exited the door. A noticeable sigh escaped Secondo's lips, echoing in the now empty room. Amused, you turned your face towards him and couldn't help but giggle.
You gracefully rose from your chair and made your way towards Secondo. His eyes followed your movements until you stopped by his side, sitting on the table next to him.
"Rough morning?" you asked, studying Secondo.
"Hooded robes? That's the pinnacle of ideas for the meeting?" Another sigh, accompanied by a roll of his eyes.
You couldn't stifle a chuckle at his exasperated expression. "Well, he did make an attempt, didn't he?"
"That was an attempt?" he retorted with a huffed chuckle.
"Secondo..."
"Mi dispiace," Secondo conceded, rubbing his brows with his fingers and leaning back in his chair. "It's just frustrating sometimes."
You shifted closer. âI get it. The hooded robes suggestion was a bit out there.â
He sighed, turning his gaze to the door. âItâs like theyâre trying to outdo each other.â
âWell,â you chuckled, âat least it keeps things interesting.â
"What do you mean?" Secondo inquired.
"I meant that," you sighed, shaking your head. "Come on, Secondo, early morning meetings? It's practically an invitation for absurd suggestions."
He chuckled, a genuine laugh escaping him. "You have a point, Deacon."
You joined in the laughter. "Maybe we should schedule meetings in the afternoon. Avoid the pre-dawn eccentricities."
Secondo raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Are you trying to spare me from hooded robe discussions?"
"Consider it a small act of mercy," you replied with a smirk.
Secondo chuckled silently, turning his eyes back to you, locking gazes. For a moment, you two just stared at each other. A warm smile crossed your face, and he quickly averted his gaze, rising from his chair. As he did, you gracefully slid from the table to the floor, observing him as he put his mitra back on his head.
âBack to the usual, I suppose,â Secondo remarked, adjusting his mitra.
You rose to your feet, a playful glint in your eyes. âThe Ministry awaits for their unholiest Eminence, Papa Emeritus II.â
"Did you mean the Paper work?" He smirked, gesturing towards the door. âShall we return to the office, Deacon? Thereâs more work to be done.â
You nodded, following him out of the meeting room. Secondo opened the door, allowing you to exit first, and then followed behind. The way back to his office and your cabinet was accompanied by a comfortable silence. The quiet corridors, still untouched by the bustling activities of the day, provided a serene atmosphere.
As you both walked together, your steps in perfect rhythm, a tranquil ambiance enveloped you. The morningâs hushed stillness allowed for reflection, interrupted only by occasional sounds echoing through the hallways. You sensed Secondoâs gaze on you at times, hinting at unspoken thoughts, yet you chose to ignore it, maintaining the quiet companionship between you two.
Reaching his office door, you placed a hand on his back, tapping your fingers in a silent farewell. As you slid your hand away, moving towards the door of your cabinet without looking back, Secondo surprised you by reaching for your wrist. You stopped, turning to meet his gaze.
With a subtle gesture of his head towards the door of his office, Secondo's unspoken invitation was clear. You nodded, and his hand moved from your wrist to your hand, holding it gently. Together, you walked into his office, and he closed the door behind you.
"What's going on, Secondo?" you inquired, a genuine tone of concern in your voice.
He turned towards you, still holding your hand. "Nothing, just wanted to discuss something before we dive into our daily tasks."
"Ah!" you exclaimed, relief evident in your voice. "All the silence and mysterious gestures... You scared me!" You chuckled, but the humor faded as you felt the grip of his hand tighten.
"I apologize, pasticcina," he said, releasing your hand. "It's nothing important; no need to worry. But I was thinking, after work, would you like to join me for dinner?"
"A dinner?" you raised a questioning brow. "Why?"
He moved to his desk, glancing away from you. "Yesterday, after you left, I started to ask myself about my plans for the date. I might admit I felt a bit pressured to decide without seeking an opinion, so I thought that meeting in my chambers for dinner would be more intimate," he explained. "So, what I'm suggesting is: could you come to my chambers later and share a meal with me? I'll take care of the cooking, so no need to worry."
"Yes, certainly," you affirmed with a nod. "But, why the sudden dinner plan?"
"Because I need your opinion," he explained, running his hand over his face and settling into his chair. "And I trust your taste, especially since you've never experienced my cooking skills before."
A playful giggle escaped you, and you bit your lower lip. "Putting in quite the effort for this date. They must be someone special, or... I'm not sure what else could explain it."
He nodded in agreement, rolling his chair away from the desk. Removing his mitra and placing it carefully on the edge, he continued, "They are. A lot. Grazie for helping me again," standing up, he lifted his robe and removed it. "I'll be expecting you after work, so you can change comfortably if you wish," he added while hanging his robe. "But for now, let's focus on work, sĂ?"
You nodded in agreement, offering him a sweet smile as you made your way to the door of your cabinet. Pushing it open, you impulsively gave him a final glance and found him looking back at you. However, as your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, and you did the same, entering your office and closing the door behind you.
Furrowing your brows, you walked to your desk and turned your face towards the door, a sense of confusion settling in as an unspoken tension lingered in the air.
Determined to delve into work, you tried to push aside the intrusive thoughts about Secondo's date. The realization that he needed your opinion for a personal matter lingered, adding an unexpected layer to your responsibilities. It felt like putting in extra hours for a friend, yet a subtle discomfort simmered beneath the surface, a feeling you couldn't quite decipher.
The day progressed, and the weight of your concentration on work led you to skip lunch, an unusual occurrence even without a meeting with the Clergy. The intensity with which you focused became a shield against the lingering thoughts, keeping your emotions in check. As the hours passed, the unease grew, a nagging sensation that you couldn't shake.
Amid your concentrated efforts, a knock on your door shattered the silence, pulling you away from your work. The interruption disrupted your train of thought, leaving you slightly disoriented as you looked towards the door.
Taking a deep breath, you stood up from your chair walking to the front of your desk and turned towards the door. Leaning against the edge of the desk, you called out, "Come in," crossing your arms in front of your chest.
As the door swung open, a sibling of sin from the ministry stood there. "I apologize for disturbing you, Deacon, but your presence is requested by the Magister in the Chapel."
"Thank you," you responded with a gentle smile.
The Sibling of Sin nodded, taking a step back from the door before leaving your cabinet. Just before the door closed, you signaled to keep it open. Seizing the opportunity, you made your way towards the door, leaving your cabinet and heading directly to the Chapel.
Uncertain of what the Magister could possibly need at this hour in the afternoon, you had no choice but to go. Entering the chapel, Archeon, the Magister, was already waiting for you, seated on one of the benches. As your eyes met his, you couldn't help but sigh.
"Magister," you greeted, closing the chapel's door behind you.
He turned his face towards you, rising from the bench. "Deacon, please, join me," he gestured to a door, his office and you walked towards it with him.
You approached, entering his office with him following suit. Archeon's expression bore formality and concern as he glanced at you.
"Deacon, I apologize for the sudden call, but there's a matter of urgency that requires your attention," he began, his tone carrying a weight.
"What is it?" you inquired, a note of concern in your voice.
"It's about the upcoming ritual," he replied with a smirk.
Suppressing any visible reaction, you maintained a composed exterior, merely nodding in response. You found yourself unwittingly drawn into another discussion about the ritual, a situation that seemed to be becoming a recurring theme in your day.
You couldn't shake the suspicion that Archeon had summoned you instead of Secondo, well aware that convincing the Papa might be an impossible task. It was a misjudgment on his part, as you held firm in your loyalty to Secondo and his decisions.
As the discussions delved deeper into the intricacies of the ritual, the afternoon gradually stretched into the night. Engrossed in the meeting, you realized you hadn't found a chance to escape from the Magister's grasp. After the prolonged discussions, you couldn't help but wish you were anywhere else at this point, yearning for a break from the relentless discourse.
"I was thinking we could enhance the upcoming ritual with some thematic decorations, perhapsâ"
Raising your hand, you interjected wearily, offering a polite smile as your eyes flicked to the clock. "Magister, I appreciate your ideas, truly, but I've been immersed in logistical details all day." With a subtle gesture, you motioned towards the stack of papers on your desk. "I believe we've covered most bases. Can we possibly continue this discussion tomorrow?"
The Magister sighed, recognizing your exhaustion. "I completely understand, Deacon, but hear me out on these finer details about the ceremonial space. Picture this â ethereal lighting, symbolic artifacts, and maybe even a thematic focal point for the Papa Emeritus."
Nodding politely, you glanced towards the door, silently signaling the urgency of your situation. "Magister, your vision is inspiring, no doubt." As you spoke, you gathered the papers on your desk. "But I have an important matter to attend to now. Let's reconvene tomorrow, what do you think?"
"But, Deaconâ" he began, reluctant to let go of his ideas.
You stood, a sense of determination in your eyes. "Tomorrow, Magister. I promise we'll give your ideas the attention they deserve. Right now, urgent matters call."
He nodded, understanding the present circumstances, and you gave him a reassuring smile. With that, you headed towards the door, leaving the Magister to contemplate his ideas inside one of the rooms of the Chapel.
As you navigated the corridors to reach Secondo's chambers, your thoughts drifted to reasons why he needed you tonight. You had been friends with Secondo for a considerable time, and you couldn't recall a time when he straight-up asked for your help on something so private. Granted, he had casually alluded to it on a few occasions, but it was more like random thoughts than actual requests. You pondered what was happening for him to break from his routine and embark on this unexpected endeavor.
Reaching for the door of his chambers, you shook away your thoughts. Raising your hand, you knocked on his door, mirroring the courtesy he had extended to you earlier. Soon, his voice echoed from inside, signaling you to push the door open and enter.
As you walked in, you made your way to his bedroom, finding him standing in front of the mirror, holding two shirts in his hands. He placed them in front of his bare chest, tilting his head repeatedly as he assessed the options. Leaning against the doorframe, you chuckled at the sight. Secondo shifted his gaze from his reflection to acknowledge your presence in the room.
"Which one?" he inquired, a serious tone in his voice.
"The white one," you replied, gesturing towards the shirt in his left hand.
He sighed and walked to his bed, discarding the other shirt as he began to don the white one. You made your way towards him, observing him buttoning his shirt. Stopping in front of him, you extended your hands to his neck, assisting with the collar of the shirt, your gaze fixed on his neck.
"Why are you picking out a shirt?"
"I had a little accident in the kitchen," he mumbled.
A playful chuckle escaped your lips as you tilted your face up to meet his gaze. "You, Secondo, had a little accident?"
He sighed, arching a brow. "SĂŹ"
"Feeling nervous?" you inquired, tilting your head as you looked up at him. Your thumbs traced gentle circles on the skin of his neck.
"I don't get nervous," he declared with a serious tone, his hands moving to rest on your arms, holding them securely.
Raising an eyebrow, you scrutinized his expression. "You don't get nervous?"
"No," he replied, withdrawing his hands from your arms and lightly placing one on the side of your body.
Shaking your head with a smile, you moved your hands from his neck to the buttons of his shirt, skillfully undoing the first two. "You're not about to lead a mass or attend a meeting; you don't have to be that formal." You finished unbuttoning his shirt, giving him a light pat on the chest. "There, much better."
Secondo maintained a stoic silence, his gaze fixed on you as your hands lingered on his chest. The discreet sound of him clearing his throat felt like a subtle cue for you to withdraw your hands, concealing the flicker of embarrassment. Stepping back, you aimed to regain your composure.
Inhaling deeply, Secondo clasped his hands together and turned towards the kitchen, prompting you to follow suit. As he entered first and headed towards the stove, you found yourself trailing behind, entering the kitchen with a slight sense of uncertainty. Not quite sure of what to do or where to go, you hesitated on the threshold.
"Are you hungry?" he inquired.
"A little bit," you admitted.
"Come here," he beckoned, and you moved in a beeline towards him, stopping right beside him.
Turning to face you, Secondo gently held your chin between his index finger and thumb. "Open," he instructed, and a flicker of confusion passed through your eyes. Nonetheless, he moved his thumb closer to your lower lip, caressing it gently. "Your mouth."
Your gaze remained fixed on him as you slowly parted your lips, feeling his thumb almost sliding inside your mouth. A satisfied hum escaped him as he let go of your chin, guiding the spoon closer to your mouth.
As the spoon neared and your lips were still parted, your eyes fixed on him, Secondo abruptly halted his movement. He shifted the hand with the spoon, and you instinctively reached for it, taking hold. As he withdrew his hand to turn back to the stove, your eyes focused on the spoon.
"Blew it before tasting," he advised. "It's a recipe from my mom; she used to cook this risotto."
Obediently, you blew on the spoonful and tasted it, savoring the blend of flavors from the ingredients. A content smile spread across your face as you closed your eyes.
"It's good, sĂŹ?" Secondo inquired, and you opened your eyes, nodding appreciatively. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he remarked, attempting to veil a subtle joy in his voice, though it lingered beneath the surface. "Now, take a seat, and I'll serve our food."
As Secondo finished serving, you took a seat, waiting for him to join. With graceful movements, he approached the table, placing a plate in front of you and another for himself. Seating himself, he reached for a bottle of wine, but just before pouring, a realization struck him. Standing up, he made his way to the countertop drawer, retrieving a lighter. Returning to the table, he ignited some candles, casting a warm glow in the room. He then went to the switch, turning off the lights before settling back at the table.
You looked around, slightly perplexed by the sudden change in ambiance. "What's all this?" you asked.
Secondo leaned back, a subtle smile playing on his lips. "Just thought we'd get into the mood of a real date," he explained.
You chuckled, "A real date, huh?"
"SĂŹ, why not?" he replied, pouring some wine into both glasses.
"I appreciate the gesture, but I think I'll pass on the wine," you said with a small smile. "Still have work tomorrow."
Secondo nodded and got up. "Nessun problema. I'll get you something else." He returned with a bottle of water and a glass cup, placing them in front of you. "I apologize. I should have asked before."
"No need to apologize," you reassured him, pouring yourself some water. "I appreciate it," you sipped your water. "This really feels like a real date," you remarked with a playful smile.
Secondo leaned back, his gaze meeting yours. "Well, I did ask you to meet me at night for a dinner,â Secondo admitted, a touch of genuine reflection in his voice. âBut I called you here to make sure Iâve still got the charm.â
You raised an eyebrow. âCharm? Is that what you call it?â
He grinned, âWell, you havenât run away yet, so it must be working, sĂŹ?â
You couldnât help but laugh at his playful banter. âI have to admit that your mother's risotto is being more powerful than your 'charm' right now. But, I suppose you have a point. So, whatâs the plan for our fictional date talk practice tonight?â
Secondo lifted his wine glass, taking a sip. "I thought we could dive into some typical date talk again. Just, before we do it, why are you still in your work clothes?"
You glanced down at your attire and sighed. "The Magister called for me this afternoon for a discussion."
"What was it about?" Secondo inquired, picking up his fork to begin eating.
"Guess," you replied dryly. "Of course, it was about the ritual."
"Cretino," Secondo muttered under his breath. "I'll make sure he knows not to disturb you any further."
You chuckled, appreciating Secondoâs protective tone. âNo need to worry, Secondo. I can handle the Magister, and besides, itâs part of the job.â
He sighed, delicately placing his utensils on the table. âI still donât like it. You shouldnât be bothered with such things. If I've made my decision, then he should stop pressuring you. I have the final say.â
You responded with a reassuring smile. âItâs okay, really. Now, back to our âtypical date talk.â If being a Papa Emeritus wasn't your destiny, you could have being a chef.â
A subtle smile forming at the corner of his lips as he focused on his food. "I'm truly glad you liked it."
"Are you planning to cook this for your date?" you inquired.
"No," he replied, taking a bite. "I mean... Yes, but, this dish is..." he continued. "This is a dish meant to be shared with someone special."
"Isn't your date someone special?" you quirked an eyebrow.
Secondo chuckled, a soft warmth in his eyes. âOf course. But this dish is... it has a meaning for me, and to share it with someone, for me, is truly intimate.â
You nodded, understanding. âSo, what you are telling me right now is that I'm special?"
Secondo took another bite, savoring the flavors before meeting your gaze. "Maybe yes, maybe no," he said with a playful glint in his eyes.
You leaned in, a teasing smile on your lips. "Well, Secondo, you're not giving me a clear answer. Should I be offended or flattered?"
He chuckled, setting his fork down. "You see, 'special' is quite a broad term. it can mean a lot of tings."
You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation. "You're impossible, you know that? But I suppose it's better than a definite 'no'."
He laughed softly, a twinkle in his eyes. "However," he sighed before continuing. "I can't deny that sharing this with you is special. So maybe you're not just special; you're making it special."
You blushed deeply and he reached for your hand. You instinctively let him, both of you seemingly unaware of the unspoken shift in dynamics. The touch felt surprisingly natural, and as your fingers intertwined, the air in the room seemed to thicken with some strange newfound feeling.
âPerhaps,â Secondo began, his voice softer, âwe could do this again sometime.â
You nodded. âOf course, I'd love to.â
The evening unfolded in shared conversations and laughter, the atmosphere feeling strangely intimate. Your hands remained intertwined, as if in sync with the unspoken understanding that this wasn't just a performance, or at least didn't feel like it as time seemed to slow down as you both reveled in the comfort of each other's presence.
As the meal drew to a close, Secondo rose, indicating his intention to take care of the dishes. Despite your offer to help, he insisted that you stay put, asserting his desire to handle the task. Weariness settling in, you acquiesced without further protest, allowing him to take charge.
Reclining in your chair, you observed him as he methodically rolled up his sleeves, ready to tackle the pile of dishes. Resting your elbow on the table, you cradled your cheek in your hand, captivated by the simple domesticity of the scene. Watching him in this moment, he seemed more than the formidable Papa Emeritus; he appeared as a person engaged in mundane yet oddly enchanting chores. It was a rare glimpse of Secondo unguarded, a side obscured by his role of authority.
Your eyes roamed over his silhouette, from the way his white shirt clung to him with meticulous precision, the impeccable fit of his black pants, down to his polished shoes. Every detail seemed to accentuate the allure of his form. As he worked on the dishes, your gaze lingered on the back of his head, his neck, his arms, and the motion of his strong hands. The entire sight prompted an involuntary sigh, a reflexive response to the unexpected allure of observing him.
Clearing your head, you shook off the enchantment and took in a deep breath. It felt odd to gaze upon him with such admiration, especially in the context of a casual evening. Reminding yourself that this was merely a performance, a shared act between two individuals, you sought to maintain a sense of detachment. The lines between the scripted performance and genuine connection blurred momentarily.
"Have you considered bringing flowers for your date?" you inquired, turning your gaze back to him.
Secondo paused in his actions, glancing over his shoulder. "Flowers?"
"It could be a nice touch," you suggested, your tone gentle, accompanied by a warm smile. "A thoughtful gesture, don't you think?"
"Flowers," he chuckled softly, a twinkle in his eye. "What kind of flowers?"
"I don't know, maybe... lilies, daisies or..." you paused, contemplating. "Oh! tulips!" you exclaimed, your face lighting up with a smile.
"Tulips?" he inquired, curiosity evident in his voice.
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding with a continued smile. "Tulips expresses admiration."
"Tulips then," he decided, nodding in agreement.
"Yes, Papa. Tulips," you confirmed with a grin
"Stop," he said in a more serious tone.
"Stop with what, Papa?" you inquired, letting his title linger a bit longer on your tongue.
With a chuckle, Secondo turned towards you, arms crossed over his chest. "Pasticcina..."
"Papa?" you repeated, trying to suppress a laugh, your lower lip caught between your teeth.
He approached the table, placing his hands on it in front of you, lowering himself slightly. "Do you find it entertaining to mock me?"
With a playful tone, you replied, gesturing with your hand as if pinching an imaginary space between your thumb and index finger. "A little. But to be honest, I don't get why you don't like me calling you Papa. You call me Deacon!"
He sighed, closing his eyes. "When you call me Papa, it feels like you're just another one of them who sees me only in that role. I know you don't, or at least, I want to believe you don't. So when you do it, it feels like you're only acknowledging me as Papa. Also seeing me as someone above you, and I don't want you to see me as it. You're the only one I allow to call me by my name because... that feels more personal, more real."
"Secondo," you softly uttered his name, and a gentle smile graced his lips. "I..." you continued, observing as Secondo opened his eyes, locking his gaze with yours.
He nodded slightly, a gentle expression in his eyes. "Now you know."
You couldn't help but feel a warmth in your chest, realizing the significance of calling him by his name. It was a privilege, a connection beyond titles and roles. You sensed a deeper bond, one that surpassed the boundaries of your official positions.
"But," you chuckled, looking away from his eyes. "That doesn't explain why you call me Deacon." As you spoke, you felt Secondo's gentle touch cupping your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze once more.
"That's easy to explain, actually," he replied, straightening his posture and adjusting his sleeves. "I call you Deacon because, in my eyes, you are more than just your title," Secondo said with a sincere tone, his eyes locked onto yours. "It's a term that resonates with the person you are to meâdedicated, capable. When I say it, it's not just a formality; it's a way of acknowledging the person I trust, respect, and consider my equal."
His words caught you off guard, surprise and warmth settling within. You sat there, momentarily frozen, unsure of how to respond, your gaze fixed on him. Secondo, with a subtle tilt of his head, seemed to enjoy your reaction. Breaking the moment, you burst into laughter, getting up from your seat and playfully hitting his arm with a soft punch. He reached for your hand, and pulled you closer.
"Should I let you go for tonight?" he whispered in a hushed tone.
Confused by his ambiguous words, you pondered the meaning behind "letting you go." What was he implying? You hesitated, uncertain of your response. Should you express a desire to stay longer, to extend this quiet and intimate moment with him? Yet, the reason behind that desire eluded you.
"Is our 'date' coming to an end?" you inquired, matching his subdued tone.
"It depends," he whispered back.
The air seemed to thicken, creating an almost suffocating atmosphere. His proximity and the gentle embrace of your hands intensified the unspoken tension, leaving you breathless and uncertain how to navigate the intimate space between you.
"In that case," you began, gently retracting your hand from his grasp, "I suppose our night comes to an end."
As you spoke, Secondo remained silent, nodding in agreement while avoiding eye contact. He gestured toward the kitchen's door, prompting you to lead the way. Moving in silence, you felt the weight of your words, wondering if you had conveyed the wrong message. As you approached the front door, you hesitated, a desire to turn and look at him conflicting with the sense that you had just given an inadequate response.
Reaching the door, you stopped, making room for Secondo to open it for you. Gathering your courage, you glanced back at him, only to find his gaze fixed elsewhere. Sighing, you stepped outside, facing the corridor. Just as you were about to move on, he reached for your hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss on the back. As he released your hand, he remained silent, offering a small nod and a faint smile.
Taking a step back into his chambers, Secondo slowly closed the door, allowing for a prolonged gaze between you two. When the door finally shut completely, you felt a rush of air leave your lungs, exhaling heavily. Holding the hand he had kissed against your face with the other, you could feel your heart racing and your cheeks burning.
You hurriedly retreated to your chambers, not daring to glance back. No furtive glimpses, not even with the corner of your eye. Distance was your ally, and you needed to put as much of it between you and him as possible. The empty corridors allowed for swift, almost running steps, the only sounds being the echo of your hurried pace and the rapid beating of your heart.
Upon reaching the door to your chambers, you wasted no time and swung it open, entering in haste. As the door closed behind you, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a moment to catch your breath before attempting to comprehend the whirlwind of emotions inside you.
Turning your gaze to your hand, the one he had just kissed, you were certain you could still feel the warmth of his lips on it. Driven by a mix of desire and bewilderment, you brought the hand closer to your face, hovering it near your lips. With closed eyes, you allowed yourself to savor the sensation, as if the residual heat from his kiss on your hand was transferring directly to your lips. It almost felt like...
You opened your eyes, fixating on your hand outstretched in front of you, prompting a sigh to escape your lips. As your gaze trailed the back of your hand, there it wasâthe imprint of his lips, the distinctive black lines from his face paint against the white. Your eyes softened, and you closed them once more. Bringing your hand close to your mouth, you allowed yourself to place a gentle kiss on the marked skin. As you withdrew your lips from your hands, the faint imprint of his kiss lingered. The sensation was as if you had just shared a kiss with Secondo, kindling a flame within you.
The line for the confessional today was incredibly long. It wasn't your usual practice to engage in this, as you preferred to grapple with your sins in silence. Moreover, your role as a Deacon didn't mandate such confessions. However, during your free moments, you occasionally indulged in sharing your transgressions with the Cardinal of the week, the Minister, or even the Papa Emeritus himself.
The problem lay in the aftermath of the previous night, as an unusual sense of guilt and embarrassment gripped you. It was a sentiment you couldn't entirely comprehend, but the source of your embarrassment was clear â the intimate act with your hand that felt inherently wrong.
The queue for the confessional was filled with siblings eager to speak with Secondo. However, as his Deacon, you were well aware that he wouldn't be available today due to a busy morning. You found solace in the knowledge that he wouldnât be the one hearing your thoughts, actions, and feelings today. Instead, the confessional would be attended by one of the Ministers from the Ministry, as per the schedule.
As the queue inched closer to your turn at the confessional, a sense of nervousness tinged your anticipation. You knew you needed to confess the guilt and embarrassment you felt from the previous night, but you were determined to keep the details superficial and avoid any mention of Secondo. The goal was to confide without revealing the true source of your inner turmoil, ensuring that whoever listened on the other side remained unaware of the specific circumstances.
After a brief wait, it was finally your turn at the confessional. As you stepped into it, the familiar scent of aged wood surrounded you, creating a somewhat comforting atmosphere. You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts.
"Forgive me, Minister, for I've sinned," you began, your voice calm within the confines of the confessional.
Inside, a brief silence ensued, and you turned your head, catching a glimpse of the Minister's silhouette through the window. He nodded, prompting you to take a deep breath.
âI⊠I found myself in a situation that felt inappropriate,â you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. âI feel ashamed and embarrassed about it. I know I shouldn't feel ashamed, but I do.â
Turning your gaze to the silhouette once more, another nod from the Minister signaled for you to continue.
"I know that embracing desire is considered virtuous, and I shouldn't feel shame, but I do," you confessed, leaning against the confessional wall. "I find myself entangled in thoughts and feelings of lust with someone I shouldn't. He wasn't someone I desired before or maybe did; I regarded him as an equal, a friend. However, something has changed, he looks different now."
The Minister's silhouette stayed stoic, leaving you uncertain about whether to continue. However, you knew he wouldn't abandon the confessional.
"We've had some conversations in the last few days, and it's embarrassing because I shouldn't be feeling this way about him after such a short time, but the way he talks, the care he shows when I'm talking..." you smiled. "The way he expressed how he sees me... and other things. I start to feel like I've been blind whenever I was close to him or just ignored things I shouldn't have, and for that, I feel embarrassed. My sin today is this guilt inside of me."
You furrowed your brows as the silhouette remained stoic, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.
"Minister? Should I proceed?" you asked with uncertainty.
He nodded in response.
"I should be proud of what happened yesterday; after all, lust is embraced here. But, all I feel is guilt. Guilt for the desire I felt, for what I imagined with him," you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your legs together. "For the longing for a kiss, just an innocent kiss," you murmured, opening your eyes. "I feel guilty for wanting my friend, for desiring him, for needing him."
You sighed, shifting your gaze to the silhouette on the other side of the confessional booth. The Magister remained a silent listener, patiently absorbing your words.
"I feel like Iâm caught in this whirlwind of emotions," you confessed, your gaze dropping to your feet. "I'm starting to think maybe this attraction was always lurking around, unnoticed or dismissed. It's confusing â being drawn to him when it feels like I shouldn't. But," you grinned, "I can't shake the thoughts of him, and this curiosity to unravel more about who he really is."
You awaited a response, but the Minister stayed silent. The thought that they might have figured out who you were referring to started to gnaw at you, a tightening sensation in your stomach.
"Thank you, Minister, for listening," you expressed as you gently opened the confessional door and stepped out, leaving the weight of your confessions within its sacred space.
Exiting the confessional, you headed back to your cabinet, exiting the chapel. In the corridors, you spotted the Magister, you anticipated the conversation you had promised him yesterday. Inhaling deeply to prepare yourself, as you walked past him, however, he deliberately avoided your presence, not even bothering to meet your gaze.
Observing him stride away, a chuckle escaped your lips. It seemed Secondo had indeed managed to convey the message to leave you alone. As you continued to your cabinet, you passed by Secondo's office door, giving it a brief glance. He probably hadn't returned yet from the meeting he had scheduled for this morning. Reaching your own door, you opened it and stepped inside.
The rest of the day unfolded with an unusual quietness. Secondo didn't show up after the meeting hour, and there were no requests or messages from him. The typically atmosphere of his office, where you could hear the muffled sounds of him discussing matters with other siblings or working on various tasks, was eerily silent. You couldn't even catch a glimpse of him through the slightly open door of his office.
Despite the unusual circumstances, you decided to focus on your work. The Ministry's duties and responsibilities demanded your attention, and you knew that dwelling on Secondo's absence wouldn't serve any purpose. Your tasks as a Deacon required precision and dedication, and you delved into your responsibilities, pushing aside any thoughts about the peculiar events of the day.
Yet, you missed him.
As the hours passed, the normal rhythm of your work continued, and you worked on managing requests, coordinating schedules, and overseeing the operations within the Ministry. The day rolled on, and soon it was approaching the end of your work shift. Still, there was no sign of Secondo, and the unusual emptiness in his office lingered in the air. You wondered if something significant had occurred or if he simply had other matters to attend to. Regardless, you maintained your focus on your duties, determined to fulfill your responsibilities until the last moments of your workday.
The sudden knock on your door nearly startled you, prompting a swift rise from your chair. Fueled by the hope that it might be Secondo, you hurried to the door, anticipation coursing through you. However, to your disappointment, it was one of the ritualists who awaited you on the other side.
"It's quite late, and I understand if you've wrapped up your work, but I have some details for the upcoming ritual at the end of the week," he mentioned, gesturing with a folder in his hand.
"Please," you said, stepping back to allow him entry. "Come in."
He nodded, stepping into your cabinet. "It's not urgent. Honestly, you can address it tomorrow, but I needed someone reliable to take a look at the final document."
As you closed the door, you faced him. "You do realize you should have handed it to Papa, right?"
"Don't you know?" he inquired, noticing your confusion. "Papa didn't attend the morning meeting, and no one has seen him since then."
"What!?" you exclaimed, attempting to mask your emotions. "What do you mean?"
"I assumed you might knew," he said, placing the folder on your desk.
"I..." you glanced at Secondo's door. "I didn't..." you sighed, shifting your focus back to the ritualist. "Maybe he was just occupied for the day."
"Perhaps," he replied with a shrug. "Well, thanks for receiving me," he said, heading toward the door and opening it. "As I mentioned, don't stress about the files today; you can handle them tomorrow."
As the ritualist departed, closing the door behind him, you swiftly approached Secondo's office door connected to your cabinet. Pushing it open, you scanned the room. There was no indication that he had been in his office today. Unusual â it wasn't typical for Secondo to be absent from the office or working elsewhere without a clear reason.
A troubling thought surfaced: could his absence be tied to his date? Perhaps he was preparing for it, but was it today? Regardless, he wouldnât neglect his responsibilities like this, especially not without keeping you informed.
Exiting his office, you returned to your cabinet. Without a second glance, you headed to your front door and left. Determined to locate Secondo, you were certain he would be in his chambersâthe only place where he could remain hidden for an extended period without being spotted.
As you walked purposefully through the corridors, the urgency of finding Secondo fueled your steps. Upon reaching the entrance to Secondoâs chambers, a moment of hesitation overcame you before retrieving the spare keys hidden at the top of the door and pushing it open.
âSecondo?â No response. The silence pressed against your ears, amplifying the tension.
To your surprise, the room was empty. The subtle scent of incense hung in the air, but there was no sign of Secondo. The mysterious absence deepened your concern. Maybe he had left a clue, a note, or something that could shed light on his sudden disappearance. You began to search the room, checking every corner, every piece of parchment on his desk.
Nothing.
As you stood in the center of Secondo's chamber, uncertainty gripped you. Where could he be? The unanswered questions piled up, and a sense of foreboding weighed on your shoulders. An eerie silence enveloped the room. The air seemed to hold its breath.
Exiting his chambers, you headed back to your cabinet, determined to focus on the documents the ritualist had delivered. You pondered where else Secondo might be if not in his chambers. A sense of worry gnawed at you; his prolonged absence was unusual, especially for the entire day.
Arriving at your cabinet's door, you paused, taking a deep breath. Your gaze involuntarily flicked to Secondo's closed office door, searching for any hint of light beneath it. To your disappointment, there was none. Deciding not to dwell on it further, you pushed open your door. But, just as you were about to step inside, you found him already there, standing in front of your desk, holding the folder delivered by the ritualist.
"Secondo!" you exclaimed, stepping inside.
"Deacon," he said, meeting your gaze with a seemingly innocent expression. "I was wondering where you went."
"I should be the one asking that," you retorted. "What's going on? Where have you been?"
"In the... Ministry...?" he asked, arching a brow in mock innocence, placing the folder on your desk. "What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean!" you said, your tone sharpening. "You've been absent the entire day!" you said, stepping closer to him.
"Deacon..."
"No," you interrupted, pointing at him as you closed the distance. "Don't use my title orâ"
âPasticcina,â Secondo interjected. His tone remained steady but carried an unspoken weight.
As the familiar nickname reached you, you came to a sudden stop a few inches away from him. Casting a brief glance in his direction, you took in his unadorned appearance â no face paint, only wearing the clothes he typically donned under his Papa's robe.
âI had some personal matters to attend to,â Secondo explained, breaking the momentary silence. His eyes met yours, revealing something you couldnât quite decipher.
âPersonal matters?â you repeated, your tone a blend of skepticism and curiosity. âYou were absent the whole day.â
He sighed, a hint of frustration evident. âThere are aspects of my duties that require discretion. Itâs nothing to concern yourself with, pasticcina.â
"What? Since when?" you said, frustration evident, releasing his hand. "Are you kidding me?" The heat of anger simmered within you. "Secondo, you've been absent the entire day. I assumed maybe a lengthy meeting, but it felt odd. No communication, no nothing throughout the day," you continued. "This isn't your usual behavior. You don't skip work, you don't disappear, and most importantly, not without..." Your words trailed off.
"Not without?" he inquired.
"Not without telling me," you sighed, turning away and rubbing your hands over your eyes. "I'm your Deacon; you can't pull disappearing acts without informing me about what's happening." As you faced him again, he stood unexpectedly close, the intensity of his presence catching you off guard.
"I didn't skip work today," he asserted, looking down at you. "I was working."
"Oh, were you?" you shot back with a defiant look, crossing your arms. "Really?"
"SĂŹ?" he replied, mirroring your crossed arms. "Why would I lie to you?"
"I don't know, maybe for the same reason you hid from me the entire day?" you said, the anger still simmering. "I even thought that maybe your date was today, and you were..." you inhaled deeply. "there... with them." As you said it, your words came out laden with frustration and an unspoken hurt. "But, I've had enough of these vague answers, Secondo," you said, your frustration boiling over. "What happened today? You can't just disappear without a word."
He sighed, his gaze shifting away. "It was unexpected."
"Unexpected? That's all you're giving me?" you retorted, unconvinced. "Everyone in the Ministry was worried, and I was left in the dark."
"I'm sure no one was worried, pasticcina, and I apologize for the concern," he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.
"You can't justâI'm the Deacon! I should know what's happening," you insisted, your eyes narrowing.
He paused, as if grappling with a decision. "Bene, I'll tell you," he conceded, meeting your gaze. "I was in a private duty today."
"A private duty?" you echoed, puzzled. "What could possibly be a private duty?"
He hesitated, then admitted, âI am the Papa Emeritus of the Ministry, after all. Sometimes, I need to be the listener,â he explained, a shadow of weariness crossing his features.
âA listener?â you questioned, still trying to grasp the extent of his absence.
âI skipped the meeting because I couldnât shake off some of my thoughts. Then, I found myself in the confessional today,â he repeated, his tone revealing a deeper truth. âListening to confessions. I wanted to offer guidance, to be there for those who needed it."
âSo, it means that it wasââ a sudden realization hit you. If Secondo was the one inside the confessional today...
Secondo gently reached for your face, cupping your cheek. âDo you want to talk about why you felt guilty?â
Your eyes widened as you looked at him. âI donât.â
"Are you sure about that, pasticcina?" he inquired, his thumb lightly tracing the line of your jaw.
You tried to maintain composure. "I don't feel guilty."
He chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. "Confessionals are meant for honesty, you know."
You took a deep breath. "I don't have anything to confess," you insisted, though your gaze flickered with uncertainty.
"But you had," Secondoâs gaze held an unspoken challenge. âDon't hide your sins from me, pasticcina,â his thumb continued its gentle caress.
âI⊠I just...â you stammered, attempting to evade the specifics. Feeling the pressure, you took a step back, creating a slight distance between you and Secondo. His eyes followed your movement, and took a deep breath.
"You can talk to me," he persisted, closing the gap again, his gaze unwavering. "What happened?"
You continued to evade, attempting to maintain composure. "It's nothing, really."
He pursued you, narrowing the distance between you once more. "Tell me," he urged, his voice a soft but insistent whisper. "I want to help you to get rid of this feeling. Let me, your Papa, guide you."
As the space between you diminished, you met his gaze, and in a barely audible whisper, you admitted, "I feel guilty because of you."
A flicker of something unreadable crossed Secondoâs eyes as he maintained the proximity, absorbing your whispered admission. Before he could respond, you spoke up.
âI feel guilty,â you confessed, âfor wanting you,â the words tumbled out, revealing the turmoil within. "But I shouldn't because we are friends... But yesterday, all I wanted for some reason was you, your touch, a kiss..."
Without a word, he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The air seemed to pause, and then, with a gentle and unmistakable determination, he pressed his lips to yours. For a moment, he held still, leaving his lips lightly grazing yours, waiting for your response.
As you closed your eyes slowly, you took a deep breath, reciprocating the kiss. That was all the encouragement he needed. Secondo wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
Your hands instinctively found their way to his chest, fingers tracing patterns as your lips moved in harmony. Slowly, your hands caressed down to his belly before settling on the sides of his body. As you explored the contours, Secondo responded by unwrapping his arms from around you. His hands then journeyed to your face, cupping your cheeks with gentle warmth, intensifying the closeness of the moment.
As the kiss continued, the touch of your lips remained gentle and unhurried. Your hands, exploring the intricate contours of his body, moved with deliberate tenderness. Secondo's response was a mirrored reflection of the unhurried passion. He let his hands linger on your face, thumbs tracing gentle patterns along your cheeks.
And then, subtle shift occurred, and the tenderness transformed into a growing intensity. The unhurried kiss between you and Secondo began to deepen, the softness giving way to a more fervent exchange.
Your hands, once gentle in their exploration, tightened their hold with a newfound urgency. They traced the lines of his body, conveying a growing desire that mirrored the intensifying kiss. Secondo responded in kind, his touch on your face evolving from a gentle caress to a more passionate hold, fingers tracing their path to the back of your neck.
His fingers brushed against the back of your neck as his other hand firmly grasped your waist. Your bodies were pressed against each other, intensifying the kiss. A subtle sound escaped your lips, blending with a sigh as Secondo's grip on your waist tightened.
Tilting his head, Secondoâs tongue brushed against your lips, seeking entrance. However, you, sensing the path the kiss could lead you both, pulled away abruptly. The fire that had been building extinguished as you put a deliberate distance between you and Secondo.
Secondo's eyes, filled with concern, locked onto yours. This time, you turned your face to the side, glancing away. Undeterred, he gently held your chin, turning it back to face him.
"What's wrong?" he asked in a hushed tone, his lips just inches away.
"N-Nothing," you stammered, trying to hide the unease in your voice.
"Did I do something wrong?" His eyes conveyed a mix of worry and confusion.
"No..." you said, reaching for the hand on your chin, holding it in an attempt to convey reassurance. "Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"I just..." you started, your voice softening. "I knew where that kiss could lead, and it didn't feel right, especially considering..."
"Considering what?" Secondo inquired, his brow furrowing with confusion.
"...Considering you have a date," you replied.
Secondoâs gaze held deep emotions as he absorbed your words. âAh, the date,â he remarked, his tone carrying a hint of ambiguity. âItâs just a date, pasticcina.â
âHow come?â you inquired. âYouâve been preparing yourself for the last two days.â
He chuckled lightly, a softness in his eyes. âI need to tell you something about it."
"Look," you began, hugging your own arms around your body. "You don't have to."
"Paâ" Secondo started to protest.
You gently interjected, placing two of your fingers on his lips. "It's fine. You have your date. I was just confusing things, and we're just friends, right?" A small, reassuring smile graced your lips.
"Pasticcina..." he said against your fingers on his lips. He gently took your hand, the one that covered his lips, and brought it to his own cheek, holding it there. "Don't do it like that. Don't say things like that," his eyes pleaded with yours. "Listen to me."
You retracted your hand from his face and leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. "It's all fine," you whispered close to his cheek, hovering your nose near it. "I should be going now. I'm sorry for what I said at the confessional and for what I said now. I guess I just lost myself for a moment. That was a mistake."
As you uttered those words, you took a decisive step away from Secondo, moving towards the door. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the air, and amidst the charged atmosphere, you heard Secondo calling your name. The temptation to look back tugged at you, but you resisted. Turning back would only complicate things, and deep down, you knew you shouldn't. In the end, it all became a silent struggle between the desire to stay and the doubt if leaving was the right choice.
Lying in bed, you remained still, the passing minutes or perhaps hours slipping by unnoticed. The events of the previous night lingered in your thoughts, casting a peculiar spell over your mind. As you replayed the scene, questions swirled, and a prominent one stood out â why did he kiss you? The weight of that unanswered question settled in your mind, weaving a web of contemplation as the kiss seemed like a gesture of compassion, as if your revelation might prompt Secondo to grant you your deepest longing at that instant. However, he wouldn't behave in such a manner, not just with you, but with anyone else. This wasn't the Secondo you were familiar with.
Immersed in your contemplations, the persistent curiosity continued to tug at your thoughts. It resembled a puzzle with crucial pieces missing, each reflection spawning more unanswered questions. In an attempt to regain focus, you decided to rise, take a shower, and prepare for the day. As a member of his Clergy, your responsibilities called for attention, and dwelling on thoughts of him could no longer detain you in bed. Nevertheless, the images from the previous night lingered in your mind. A subtle but undeniable sense of change permeated your thoughts, leaving you with a perplexing feeling that the nature of this shift eluded your understanding.
Setting those lingering thoughts aside, you proceeded with your bath. Once you were done, you exited the bathroom and returned to your room to attire yourself for the day. Despite being plagued by the memory of Secondo's lingering kiss, you remained committed to fulfilling your duties, even if starting the day later than planned.
As you left your room and made your way to the cabinet, you hoped that immersing yourself in work would serve as a welcomed distraction. Your silent pleas for tranquility were directed to the Dark One as you navigated the corridors. In a way, you found yourself praying to avoid encountering Secondo, at least for the time being. Yet, it seemed the Dark One remained indifferent to your pleads.
"Deacon," Secondo's voice reached your ears as you halted in front of your door.
You took a deep breath before turning to face him. "Papa," you acknowledged.
Secondo lingered for a moment, his gaze fixed on you, then cleared his throat. "Iâ Will you be attending the lunch meeting today?"
"Maybe," you replied, uncertainty lacing your words.
Secondo's eyes held a subtle intensity, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken tension between you two from the previous night. As you exchanged glances, the atmosphere seemed to sway between hot and cold, the lingering memory of the kiss casting a shadow over you both.
"Maybe," you repeated, your response holding a hint of reservation.
"Decisions regarding the upcoming ritual need to be discussed," Secondo remarked, shifting the conversation. "Your presence is crucial in this, Deacon. The ritual details demand meticulous attention."
You nodded. "Certainly, Papa. However, I thought all the details had already been finalized."
Secondo parted his lips, seemingly about to say something, but the door to his office creaked open. A Sister of sin emerged, casting a curious glance in your direction.
"Papa," she called him, a subtle smile playing on her lips.
"Ah, sorella," Secondo acknowledged, his focus briefly shifting. "Deacon, we shall resume this discussion later," he said it, entering his office.
You retreated from the corridor, entering your cabinet as the door to Secondo's office closed behind him and the Sister of sin. The encounter left a questions in your mind, a quiet curiosity about the identity of the sister and the nature of their interaction. Could she be the date Secondo had been preparing for? The thought lingered, but you pushed it aside, realizing that this wasn't the moment to dwell on such matters.
You had a portion of work to complete before the lunch meeting, and that became your immediate focus. Whoever the Sister in Secondo's office was creeping your thoughts. To the point you had to remind yourself: you're friends, he has a date, the kiss was a mistake, merely a result of your inadvertent encouragement. This internal mantra aimed to clear the air of any unresolved tensions as you delved into your tasks.
And then, doubts lingered in the recesses of your mind. What if you were wrong? What if Secondo desired the kiss as much as you did, and your inadvertent admission gave him the courage to express his own feelings? But you pushed aside those thoughts.
But, unfortunately, nothing could entirely distract you from the thoughts about Secondo and suddenly, you found yourself standing in front of his door, clutching some papers as a feeble excuse to engage in conversation. Hesitation seized you, torn between knocking and retreating. The uncertainty loomed, as if uttering words might unravel the mystery, yet also deepen the intricate layers of your connection with Secondo.
You knocked on the door, but there was no immediate response. A subtle anxiety crept in, contemplating the possibility that Secondo might be deliberately ignoring you. Knocking again, the silence persisted, leaving a sense of unease. Pressing your ear against the door, you strained to catch any sound from within. Unable to resist, you pushed the door open, only to find Secondo's office empty.
Surveying the room, you found no trace of Secondo, except for his mitra on the desk and his robe hanging in its usual spot. You stepped inside, making your way towards the desk. Your fingers traced the contours of his mitra, and a silent reflection crept you. With a sigh, you carefully placed the mitra back where it belonged.
Your fingers traced over some papers on top of his desk, absentmindedly observing them. Before you could delve into their contents, his office door swung open, prompting you to swiftly redirect your attention towards him as he entered.
"Deacon?" Secondo said as he entered the room, his gaze meeting yours.
"Papa," you responded, maintaining a composed demeanor.
He approached his desk, eyeing the papers you had touched with a subtle curiosity. "Is there something you need? How is work?"
"No, not really. I was just finalizing some documents for the upcoming ritual," you explained, your tone professional as you placed the folders on his desk. "Do you have any specific preferences or changes you'd like to make?"
Secondo paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "No, proceed as planned. But, that's something we should discuss at the lunch," he added.
"Understood," you replied.
"So shall we?" Secondo inquired, his eyes holding a subtle invitation.
"Shall we... what?" you responded, a touch of confusion in your tone.
"The lunch meeting," he clarified, his gaze lingering on you. "It's almost time for it."
âAlready?â you questioned, glancing at the clock hanging on the wall. The realization hit you â you had been away from your cabinet since the early hours of the morning, losing track of your usual morning routine.
Turning your gaze back to him, you nodded in agreement. Secondo graciously pushed the door open for you, and you began to walk in its direction, with him following suit. As you both exited his office, Secondo closed the door behind him and gave a friendly pat on your back, signaling for you to start walking together. Following his lead, you stepped in stride with him.
"Papa," you called, turning to face him, your gaze seeking his attention.
"Hm?" he responded with a casual sound, maintaining his forward gaze.
"Are you okay?" you inquired, tilting your head.
"SĂŹ, Deacon," he replied. "You?"
"Good," you nodded, turning your attention back to the corridor.
As you both continued walking towards the meeting place, you noticed that Secondo's hand remained on your back, providing an oddly comforting yet tense sensation. The prolonged contact sent a subtle shiver through your entire body.
"Papa," you called out once more.
"SĂŹ?" he replied, his voice slightly raspy.
"About the ritual," you began, your tone shifting to a more serious note. "Is everything in place?"
"As far as I know, everything is in order," he reassured.
"That's good to hear," you nodded, appreciatively.
"Of course," Secondo affirmed.
"Papâ"
Secondoâs hand left your back and gripped the back of your neck. In a swift motion, he turned, pressing you against the wall. However, his other hand intercepted the impact, ensuring your head wouldnât hit the hard surface. The unexpected closeness made your heart race as you locked eyes with him.
"Stop," Secondo's voice held a seriousness that caught you off guard. "Stop treating me like the others," he furrowed his brows. "You're not like that."
"But, we are in public, and normally I call youâ"
Secondo interjected, leaning closer, his hand finding the wall right next to your head. "There is no one around us."
"Does it matter?" you retorted, trying to maintain a semblance of composure despite the closeness. "We have roles to play, Secondo. We are just keeping up with our roles."
His gaze lingered on yours, holding frustration and something deeper. "Our roles?" he scoffed. "We're not puppets, and this... pretending is driving me insane."
"You? Insane?" you challenged, your voice almost a whisper. "What are you trying to say, Secondo?"
He pulled back slightly, but his eyes remained locked onto yours. "I'm saying that..."
Before Secondo could say it, the distant sound of footsteps reached both of you, echoing through the corridor. Secondo swiftly pulled back, his expression unreadable. A shadowy figure approached the scene. It was a Sibling of Sin, their presence injecting an element of formality into the atmosphere. Secondo straightened himself, adopting a more composed demeanor.
The Sibling passed through, offering a polite nod to both of you. As she disappeared down the corridor, Secondo took a moment to compose himself. He resumed his walk to the lunch meeting, and you followed suit. An uneasy silence settled between the two of you, and perhaps for the first time, his silence weighed heavily on you.
Upon reaching the lunch meeting place, Secondo paused at the entrance. Sensing something amiss, you moved closer and rested a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
âSecondo, are you okay?â you asked, concern etched on your face.
He cast a quick, vulnerable glance at you. "Iâ," he sighed and shifted his gaze to meet yours. "Did I mess everything up?"
"What are you talking about?" you inquired, your hand moving from his shoulder to gently cup his cheek.
Secondo took a deep breath, his eyes holding hesitation and longing. "About last night..." he began.
"What about it?" you asked, searching his eyes for clues.
"The kiss," he said, almost in a whisper. "Was it a mistake?"
Your heart fluttered, but you held back your true feelings. "Everything is okay, Secondo," you replied, offering a reassuring smile. "No need to worry about it."
Secondo's eyes lingered on yours, a silent plea hidden within them. "Deacon," he started.
Your heart raced at the intensity of his gaze. "Y-yes?" you inquired, your voice slightly shaky.
âI need to know,â Secondo began cautiously, âWas the kiss a mistake?â
âIt wasnât a mistake,â you admitted, âbut it was just a moment, right?â
He looked away for a moment, grappling with his own thoughts. âI donât want to complicate things,â he said.
You reached out and embraced Secondo. âIt doesnât have to complicate anything,â you whispered. âWeâre still friends. Donât worry.â
He hesitated for a moment, then his arms circled around you in return, holding you closer. Secondo pulled back slightly, his hands lingering on your shoulders. âI just donât want to lose what we have, pasticcina.â
You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his. âYou wonât,â you assured him. âNow, letâs go in for the lunch meeting, and we can talk about that later."
"No," he softly uttered, releasing your shoulders. "Deacon, we need to talk now."
"I'm listening," you replied, grabbing one of his hands.
But before he could say anything, the door of the meeting room where the lunch was happening opened, prompting you to release his hand. Turning your head, you looked at the ritualist who stood there in front of you, while Secondo's attention was solely fixed on the fact that you had left his hand. His gaze was locked on his hand without yours, seemingly indifferent to the presence of the ritualist.
"Papa!" he exclaimed, relief in his voice. "I was about to go find you," he said turning his eyes to you. "And I can see the Deacon will grace us with their presence today."
You nodded in acknowledgment with a polite smile. Secondo, however, maintained a stoic expression. The ritualist gestured toward the open door, signaling for you both to enter the meeting room. Secondo finally moved and entered, and you followed suit, stepping inside after him. As the ritualist closed the door and returned to his seat, Secondo turned to you, lowering his head closer to yours.
"We will talk later," he whispered, his words brushing close to your ear.
As he pulled away, you couldn't help but feel the lingering anticipation of a conversation yet to unfold. You looked at him, nodding slowly. Secondo shot you a small grin and moved towards the main chair. Taking a deep breath, you walked to your chair as well, settling in among the other members of the clergy.
As the lunch meeting unfolded, you found yourself engrossed in discussions about the upcoming ritual. The atmosphere was tense, with various opinions being exchanged. Despite the serious nature of the conversation, your eyes kept drifting to Secondo, who was seated across the room. You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you as well. Every time your eyes met, a subtle tension hung in the air, creating a silent dialogue that seemed to transcend the confines of the meeting room.
As the meeting concluded, Clergy members began rising from their seats, making their way towards the exit. You and Secondo followed suit, standing up to leave the room. Together, you walked back together towards your offices. Even in the short distance, you could feel the electrifying tension between you two. His hand brushed against yours a few times, sending a rush of warmth through your body, yet he didn't hold it. Instead, his pinky finger subtly grazed yours, a playful and intimate touch that made you blush.
Secondo's gaze swept over the surroundings, his hand gripping yours gently with interwoven fingers. "Are you too busy this afternoon?" he inquired, his voice lowered.
You turned to meet his gaze and shook your head in the negative.
"Molto bene," he nodded once. "So, would you come with me to my office, sĂŹ?"
"Y-yes..." you stammered, a lingering blush on your cheeks, and a newfound layer of shyness stemming from the gentle hold of his hand. "But why?"
"Because we need to talk," he replied.
"Oh!" you exclaimed, anxiety momentarily overshadowing the lingering shyness. You took a deep breath. "O-Of course."
He hummed in contentment, his lips curving into a grin as you continued walking to his office, hands still entwined. The sensation was almost overwhelming for you; feeling him this way was different. Though you had held hands before, this time it carried a distinct and unfamiliar weight. It felt differentâyou felt different.
Yet, this did little to soothe your nerves. Whatever he wanted to discuss was causing a ripple of worry within you. Today, Secondo seemed differentâsomewhat distant and cold, while also exuding a combination of incisiveness and sentimentality. However, beneath these conflicting emotions, there lingered a sense that he was grappling with something, something elusive that you couldn't quite decipher. The ambiguity might be attributed to his usual reserved demeanor or the enigmatic face paint that adeptly concealed his emotions when left unspoken.
Upon reaching his office, Secondo maintained his grip on your hand, and you could sense a subtle tightening as he reached for the doorknob. Deliberately turning it, he took a deep breath that caused his shoulders to rise. As the door swung open, he swiftly released your hand and stood motionless in front of the entrance. Intrigued, you took a step closer, realizing Terzo was inside the office.
Terzo turned his head towards the door, glancing at Secondo before directing a warm smile your way. "Secondo," he started, turning his gaze back to him. "I apologize for not waiting, but a sibling informed me you were in a lunch meeting, so I assumed it wouldn't be a problem to come in."
Secondo chuckled lightly. "Nessun problema, Terzo," he replied, making his way into the office. "Cosa ti porta qui?"
"Solo alcune questioni da discutere e..." he paused, shifting his gaze in your direction. "Are you busy, fratello? I can come back later if you and Deacon were in the middle of something important."
Secondo glanced over his shoulder, and you responded with a gentle smile. "We..." He turned his body towards you, bringing the office door with him and briefly closing it behind him.
"We can talk later, don't worry," you reassured him in a soft tone as your eyes connected with his.
Secondo nodded, bringing his body closer to yours. His gaze alternated between your eyes and your lips, creating a subtle tension in the air. He took a deep breath, and you instinctively held yours, creating a moment of profound silence as you faced each other. His hand, having left the doorknob, gently cupped your cheek. In a tender gesture, he caressed your cheek with his thumb, the warmth of the gesture lingering for what felt like an eternity.
Secondo withdrew his hand gently off your cheek, leaving you with a subtle shiver and a lingering yearning for the warmth of his touch. His gaze held yours, as if concealing untold sentiments, prompting you to tilt your head in curiosity. Secondo chuckled softly, shaking his head, and you responded with a gentle nod while gesturing towards the door. A sigh and a playful eye roll from him made you giggle silently, relishing the special way you both communicated without words.
His hand returned to the doorknob, and he slowly pushed the door open, walking backward into the room without breaking eye contact. Once inside, you bid him a little wave, and with a final glance, he closed the door.
You finally released the breath you were holding, closing your eyes for a moment as a smile painted your face. It was undeniably something new, a novel feeling, but this wasn't the moment for deep contemplation. Composing yourself, you opened your eyes and headed towards the door of your cabinet, conveniently located next to his office. With a swift motion, you opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind you.
As you entered your cabinet, you realized that waiting for Secondo to finish whatever he was doing with Terzo would stretch the afternoon into seemingly endless hours of pure boredom. With everything settled for the ritual, your workload was minimal, and the waiting game became an exercise in patience.
The minutes dragged on, and you found yourself organizing your cabinet, rearranging things as a distraction from the persistent anticipation. However, the waiting made concentration difficult. Your thoughts kept circling back to what Secondo wanted to discuss, creating a feeling of uncertainty that hung heavily in the quiet space.
In an attempt to quell the restlessness, you picked up a few documents, but your mind struggled to focus. The ticking of the clock seemed louder than usual, each passing second amplifying the sense of anticipation and making the afternoon feel interminable. The hours ahead stretched before you, laden with the weight of waiting.
After pacing back and forth in your cabinet for a while, you returned to your desk, sinking into your chair with a sigh. However, before you could settle in, a distinct knock echoed through your door. You turned your head towards it, recognizing it as his unmistakable pattern.
Swiftly getting up from your chair, you made your way to the door connecting your cabinet to his office. With a smooth motion, you opened it, revealing him on the other side.
"Hi," you greeted as your eyes locked.
Secondo casually lifted an arm, supporting it on the doorframe, leaning slightly in your direction. "Hi," he replied, his gaze focused on you.
The closeness of his presence prompted a subtle blush, but you composed yourself, taking a deep breath. "Was everything okay with Terzo?" you asked.
"SĂŹ," he nodded. "Niente di importante." His gaze held yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you. Secondo straightened, pushing off the doorframe, and took a step closer. "Can we continue our talk?" he asked, his tone carrying a mix of seriousness and something you couldn't quite decipher.
You nodded. "Of course, Secondo. Let's talk."
As you gestured for him to enter your cabinet, he caught your wrist, leading you into his office. With his free hand, he closed the door behind you.
"Deacon," he said, however, before he could begin, a distinct knock echoed through the room. Secondo tried to ignore it, intending to continue the conversation, but another knock interrupted once again. "Not again," an exasperated sigh escaped Secondo. "Come with me, let them knock," he took you by the hand, steering you towards the archive room of his office.
âWhat are we doing here? We could have stayed at the office, whoever it was wouldn't come in,â your grip on his hand got firm. âI can smell the dust from this place,â you chuckled as he closed the door.
"I've been lying to you," he confessed, his words tumbling out rapidly.
Your eyes widened in surprise and nervousness. "Huh? What? What do you mean?" you inquired, the anxiety evident in your voice. "What are you saying? Lying to me? Since when? About what?"
"Let me explain," he sighed. "I've been lying to you because there was no date, no one else. It was just an excuse."
You furrowed your brows in confusion. "What are you talking about? An excuse for what?"
He sighed, his grip on your hand tightening. "I wanted to ask you out. I wanted to take you on a date, but I didn't know how to do it without making things awkward. So, I said I had a date because I got nervous. I didn't want to jeopardize our friendship or make you uncomfortable, I also couldn't bear the thought of you saying 'no'."
"That's quite a revelation," your voice dropped to a hushed tone, your eyes widening in understanding. "So, all those 'practice' sessions were just a pretext?"
Secondo nodded solemnly. "I apologize. I know it's selfish, but I couldn't bear the thought of hearing you reject me. The pain would be greater than finding myself in heaven instead of hell."
"Secondo, your honesty means a lot to me," you said in a low tone. "But, I'm confused. Why didn't you just ask?"
He paused before responding. "I was afraid it would change everything between us, and I didn't want to risk losing you. I thought this approach would give me a chance to muster the courage to speak up, but it didn't until now, or yesterday. The fact that I have kissed you the way I did, and hearing you calling it as a 'mistake' made feel like if I had ruined everything. When deep down... All I wanted was you to see a different side of me, to understand me better, and maybe... I don't know... see me? Admitting it now makes me feel foolish."
"Don't say that," you took a deep breath. "Secondo, you should have just asked me. You're not going to lose me, and you don't need excuses. I'm sorry for calling the kiss a mistake, but I thought it was based on the fact that you had a 'date' and I was trying to ignore the fact that I wanted that, that I wanted to kiss you, but I was telling myself how wrong it was to want you. But if you asked me on a date before, I would have said 'yes'."
A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You mean all of that?"
"Yes," you said, your smile tender. "Well, initially, I'd might be a bit shocked, perhaps a little surprised if you called me on a date. I'd probably even think you were just being funny," you giggled, placing a gentle hand on his chest and caressing it. "But, without a doubt, I would have said 'yes' because spending time with you is always good."
Secondo's gaze softened, and he gently placed his hand on top of yours. "Forgive me for being selfish," he said with sincerity.
A warm smile graced your lips. "Consider it forgiven."
Secondo's eyes searched yours, uncertainty reflecting in his gaze. "So, you'd go on a date with me?" he inquired, his gaze earnest.
With a playful smile, you reached up, gently cupping his face, and leaned in, pressing a tender kiss onto his lips. As you pulled away from the kiss, a soft chuckle escaped you. "Well, I guess that answers your question, Secondo," you teased. "But only if you promise to not practice with me anymore."
He laughed. "Bene. No more practice, just real ones with you."
You nodded, and as the distance between you and Secondo closed, your lips found each other in a tender and sweet kiss. His hand, which had been holding yours, traced a path from your waist to the small of your back, drawing you closer. Simultaneously, you wrapped your arms around his neck, savoring the warmth motion of his lips against yours.
The kiss unfolded in a slow and sweet rhythm, both of you cherishing the tenderness of the moment. As your arms enveloped each other, you could sense Secondo's faint smile against your lips. His hand left the small of your back and moved to your face, cupping it gently as he intensified the kiss. Feeling the warmth of his touch, you tilted your head, inviting him to deepen the connection. However, just as the intensity peaked, he pulled back abruptly and sneezed.
Your expression shifted from a dazed look to a bemused one as you realized the abrupt interruption. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and you raised an amused eyebrow.
"Apologies," he managed to say between sneezes, the unexpected reaction making him chuckle heartily. "I guess I've made a wrong choice of place."
You chuckled in response. "Better for us to get out of here then," you said.
"Before we leave," he looked into your eyes, with seriousness and anticipation in his gaze. "I..." he began, causing you to tilt your head, curious about what was on his mind.
"You...?"
Secondo took a deep breath, and the words spilled out, "Would you allow me to take you on a proper date tonight?" A smile played on Secondo's lips, his eyes searching yours for a response.
You felt a flutter in your chest and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth. "I would be delighted," you replied, your voice carrying a light teasing tone. "A proper date sounds like a wonderful idea."
Secondo's features softened, and he nodded appreciatively. The depths of his mismatched eyes held your attention. As Secondo leaned in, drawing closer to your face, you closed your eyes, feeling the anticipation build. However, just as you expected the connection to intensify, Secondo paused, pulling back abruptly to sneeze once again.
A laugh bubbled up from within you at the unexpected sneeze, and Secondo raised a questioning brow. He quickly shook his head, placing a finger to his lips in a playful hush. Without missing a beat, he reached for your hand, guiding you out of the archive room.
As you exited the archive room, returning to his office, Secondo gently pulled you closer and pressed a kiss onto the back of your hand, his thumb caressing the spot tenderly. "Can I pick you up at your room later?"
You nodded, a hint of timidity in your response.
Secondo grinned, pressing another kiss onto the back of your hand. He then placed your hand against his cheek, holding it there, cupping your hand with his. "I look forward to it," he replied with a soft smile, his gaze fixed on yours. Secondo's hand lingered, his fingers gently entwining with yours.
"You enjoy making me wait, don't you?" You teased retracting your hand from his face, slowly. "I'll see you later then."
As you turned to leave, Secondo gently caught your hand, pulling you back with a playful smile. "Only a little. Builds anticipation, sĂŹ?"
"I guess I'll have to endure the suspense then," you sighed with a touch of dramatic flair.
Secondo chuckled, gracefully letting go of your hand. "But wait, there's one more thing,"
Your curiosity piqued, you inquired, "What is it?"
Secondo cradled your face delicately with both hands, his touch tender, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips. As he pulled away, a gentle kiss landed on your forehead, and he looked down at you. "This is good."
"What is good?" you murmured.
"Le tue labbra," he replied, closing his eyes and leaning in for another tender kiss, capturing your lips in a moment of warmth.
The initial kiss was slow, gentle, and sweet, as if savoring the taste of a forbidden fruit. It left a lingering sensation of ecstasy. Every touch of the lips sent shivers through both of you, creating an undeniable need for more. Both of you surrendered to that desire, and the kiss intensified, the connection growing deeper.
Secondo's hands, which initially cradled your face, now traced a path down your back, pulling you closer. The tender exploration of lips became more fervent, a dance of passion and longing. His lips moved with deliberate precision, molding against yours as if searching for a perfect fit.
His hands, warm and reassuring, traced gentle paths along your body, creating a sensory map of desire. Your hands found their way to the back of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. Unable to resist the magnetic pull, Secondo led you to his desk, leaning you against it with a controlled urgency. The kiss became a deeper exploration, his lips demanded more, conveying a hunger that echoed in the shared breaths and mingling sighs.
As the kiss intensified, your bodies pressed together, Secondo's hands explored the curves of your body, his touch gentle yet possessive. You pressed your body even closer to his, a silent invitation for more. Subtly, you spread your legs, granting him more space, and Secondo wasted no time. Almost instantly, he adjusted his position, aligning himself with the new angle.
His hands, now exploring the contours of your thighs, pulled your hips against his, placing your legs around his hips. The sudden shift made you arch your back, a gasp escaping your lips, as you felt his hardness pressing against the warmth between your legs.
The passion heightened and you found yourself instinctively grinding against him, a subtle and spontaneous movement that drew a low groan from Secondo. The sound reverberated through the room causing you to press your legs around his hips firmly.
Feeling the vibration of your response, Secondo gently pulled away from the kiss, both breathless and dazed. His hands, which had been on your thighs, now migrated to your face. He tilted it, giving him enough space to press a series of wet kisses onto your neck.
The wet warmth of his kisses left a trail of sensations, causing a shiver to run down your spine. However, you gently pressed your hands against his chest, guiding him away from your neck. Secondo gazed at you with a perplexed expression, prompting a chuckle from you. Closing the distance, you bestowed a tender peck on his lips, causing him to briefly close his eyes.
"If you keep going, our planned date might not happen," you whispered against his lips.
Secondo groaned in frustration. "And why is that?" he asked, his lips brushing against yours.
"Because you're jumping straight to how I want the end of our date to be," you replied, biting your lower lip and trailing your hands down to his belly.
Secondo, with a tender smile, continued. "Now I can't wait for the later part of our date then."
You couldn't help but return his smile, "Well, if you manage to behave yourself now, I might just consider it."
He raised an eyebrow playfully, "Behave?" He placed a soft kiss on your forehead. "I'll be the epitome of good behavior, just for you."
You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face betrayed your amusement. Secondo chuckled, withdrawing his hands from your face and guiding them back to your thighs, where he began to gently caress. His touch lingered for a while before he took a step back, allowing both of you ample space to recompose.
"At what hour should I pick you up?" Secondo asked, scratching the back of his head.
You paused, considering his question. "I don't have any more work today. Nothing urgent. If there's anything left for the ritual, I believe I've already provided it, and everything should be ready, right?"
Secondo smirked, his eyes locking onto yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to check some papers Terzo left for me."
Secondo let out a sigh, his eyes holding yours. "Unfortunately, I need you to review some documents Terzo left for me."
"Oh," you responded with a nod, making your way to his direction. "Certainly, what are you looking for?"
"I'd like you to carefully go through these papers, verify the information, and if any changes or corrections are needed, you know the routine, sĂŹ?" he explained, handing you the documents from his table.
"Absolutely, Secondo," you assured him, taking the papers. "I'll get on it right away. Since I have some work to do, I'll head back to my cabinet to focus on this task."
He reached for your waist, his thumb gently caressing it in small circles. "I have full confidence in your abilities, but you just have to give it a look and see if everything is in order," he stood up, placing a gentle kiss on your cheek. "Now, any preferences for our evening plans?"
You pretended to ponder for a moment. "Hmm, surprise me. Just keep it interesting, and I'm all in."
Secondo nodded, and as you leaned in for a sweet moment, he did the same, resulting in a clumsy meeting of lips at the midpoint, sharing a gentle kiss at the corners of each other's mouths. Pulling back, you chuckled at the minor mishap, noticing Secondo furrowing his brows in annoyance. To prevent a repeat, Secondo cradled your head with both hands, planting a tender kiss on your forehead.
With that, you tilted your head towards him, subtly hinting at the desire for a more substantial kiss, and perhaps you were. Yet, Secondo didn't succumb to your charm. Instead, he gently held your chin and planted a delicate kiss on your lips, almost as if it were a feather-light caress.
You gazed at him, a mix of frustration and pleading in your eyes, your lips forming an almost pout. Secondo chuckled and shook his head. "As you mentioned earlier, we can't skip to the end of the date. Trust me, I'm just as eager to kiss you more. I've waited a long time for this," he admitted with a hint of longing.
"Have you?" you teased, biting your lower lip and looking at him with a mischievous glint. "How long?" you inquired in a hushed tone, leaning in. However, before you could bridge the gap, Secondo interrupted you by gently placing a finger on your lips. "Secâ!"
Before you could finish, he silenced you with a lingering kiss, interrupting your words. You smiled with his lips pressed against yours, taking a deep breath as he slowly pulled back. You maintained your smile as his eyes met yours. Secondo hummed in contentment, though a hint in his eyes betrayed the restraint he exercised in not kissing you again as passionately as before. You, too, desired it, especially considering the consequences of that kiss, consequences you weren't sure you were ready to face.
Recognizing the temptation he exuded, you wondered if it was influenced by the power he held as the highest satanic figure in the ministry. It wouldn't be surprising, given his proximity to the Dark Lord. However, there were still tasks to attend to before the date.
Exiting his office, you gave him a wave, and his eyes lingered on you until you reached your cabinet, closing the door behind you. Moving directly to your desk, you neatly placed the papers on it, straightening your posture before settling into your chair.
As you delved into the papers, the initial set seemed routineâstandard proceedings of the ministry that required Secondo's signature. Everything appeared to be in order, so you moved on to the next document. However, the tone shifted when you encountered one discussing retirement. Your focus intensified as the words unfolded a revelation: Secondo was to be replaced by his younger brother, Terzo.
A sense of disbelief settled in as you retraced your steps to the first set of papers, realizing they were meant for the new leader, not Secondo. Continuing to read, the details painted a picture of a succession plan. After the upcoming ritual, Secondo was expected to prepare himself for the transition, handing over the reins to Terzo. The emotions intensifiedâshock, disbelief, and a growing sense of unease. You grappled with the unspoken truth that your moments with Secondo were poised on the edge of a significant change, a change he had kept concealed.
The documents unfolded like chapters in an unexpected narrative, each revelation carrying a weight that settled heavily on your shoulders. The impending succession, the shift in leadership, and the unspoken truths left you in a whirlwind of emotions. As you continued to read, the words became more than ink on paperâthey became the unraveling of a reality you hadn't anticipated. The emotions surged, astonishment, apprehension, and an underlying sense of loss.
As you absorbed the weight of the revelations, indignation surged through you. How could Secondo have given you those papers without a single word of explanation? The sense of betrayal fueled your urgency, and you sprang from your chair, marching toward his office with a storm of emotions brewing within you.
The door swung open forcefully, a loud bang echoing in the room, but to your dismay, all that greeted you was an empty chair. Secondo was nowhere to be found. Running your hands through your hair, you took a deep breath, attempting to rein in the frustration and confusion that threatened to overwhelm you. You felt the urge to confront him, to demand an explanation for this clandestine revelation, but reason prevailed. He was cunning, slipping away before you could confront him. However, you knew where to find him â soon enough, he would be in your room.
Resolute, you made your way to the main door of his office, pushing it open and stepping out, leaving behind the empty space. The corridors of the ministry felt like an intricate maze as you navigated through them, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts about Secondo's impending retirement. The prospect of not seeing him with the same frequency, the shift in your role as his brother's Deacon, and the nagging question of why he hadn't shared this crucial information occupied your mind. Each step seemed to echo your internal turmoil, and as you approached your room, the heaviness in your heart became more pronounced.
Entering the room, you stripped away your clothes, preparing for a bath to ease the tension that had coiled within you. Submerged in the water, you allowed yourself a moment of vulnerability, letting silent sobs meld with the sound of rushing water.
Emerging from the bath, you draped a towel around your body and returned to the room, contemplating the choice of your outfit. The question lingeredâdid it really matter how you dressed now? Nevertheless, you selected your clothes, arranging them on the bed. Suddenly, a knock on the door echoed inside your room, and you took a deep breath, focusing on maintaining appearances as you made your way towards it.
As you opened the door, there he stood, having changed his clothes already. The familiar scent of his cologne, intensified now, filled the air. The notes of the perfume, a strong blend of cedarwood and musk, lingered, creating an almost palpable atmosphere. He held a small bouquet of tulips in his hand. Though the bouquet consisted of just four tulips, the gesture felt both delicate and meaningful. The scent of the tulips added a layer of floral sweetness, momentarily distracting you from the turmoil within.
"Would it be better if I return later? I assumed you'd be ready by now," he questioned.
You took a steadying breath, trying to conceal the emotional turbulence as you faced Secondo at the doorway. "No, it's fine," you replied, managing a composed tone. "I was just deciding what to wear."
His grip on the bouquet tightened, betraying an underlying tension that mirrored the unspoken complexities of the situation. "Should I wait outside?" he offered, his eyes reflecting the uncertainty.
Shaking your head, your gaze pierced onto his. "No," your voice emerged slightly raspy. "Come in," you said, stepping away to grant him passage.
He entered your room, and a palpable air of unease enveloped the space. He cautiously closed the door behind him, and you turned away, pretending to focus on selecting an outfit from your wardrobe, although you had already placed the chosen outfit on your bed. The clothes blurred in front of you as you grappled with the turmoil within.
Placing the tulips delicately on the bedside table, Secondo's eyes lingered on the carefully chosen clothes you had laid out. With a subtle smile, he made his way towards you. "I know you've read the papers."
You turned to face him, your eyes revealing a tumult of emotions. "Why didn't you tell me, Secondo?"
He sighed, shoulders sagging as if relieved. "I wanted to, but I couldn't find the right time or the right words. I didn't want to burden you."
Anger, hurt, and confusion battled within you. "So, you thought giving me the papers without a word was the solution?"
He reached for your hand. "No, it wasn't the right way. I should have told you, but I couldn't find a way to."
Inhaling deeply, you briefly covered your face with your hands. "Secondo, please, just be honest with me. What's going on? First, the lies about your date, and now you're keeping things from me. What's really happening?" You implored, uncovering your face as your hands fell away. "We've been friends for a long time, and this isn't like you. Just," you sighed, "tell me what's going on with you."
Secondo met your gaze, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. âI didnât mean to keep anything from you,â he confessed. âItâs just⊠there are changes, and I wanted to handle them before burdening you with it. But you deserve honesty, and I owe you an explanation.â
You nodded.
"On the day of the lunch meeting, days ago, certain members of the Clergy made a private decision regarding my retirement from the position of Papa Emeritus. I assumed you were unaware, and I thought it best to keep it that way," he began with a heavy sigh. "Later, Terzo confronted me, questioning when I would muster the courage to confess my feelings for you. He believed that simply having you by my side every day would be enough, rather than openly expressing my emotions. This situation compelled me to make a decision, leading to the idea of asking you on a date. However, as you're well aware, it didn't exactly go as planned."
"Okay, I can understand that, but why didn't you tell me about your retirement?" you pressed.
"I was afraid it would make no difference at all, that you wouldn't care about who comes and goes. After all, it's just work, sĂŹ?" Secondo responded. "And if you did care, I was afraid of what that could possibly mean."
"No, it's not just work, Secondo. It's you!" you exclaimed, your voice trembling. "Of course, it makes a difference. You're not just a colleague; you're my friend, the person I cherish the most in this Ministry. And now, you are... someone I... I'm seeing as more than just a friend."
Secondo stepped closer, his eyes searching yours with a soft intensity. "Pasticcina," he began gently, "I should have been more transparent with you. I didn't want to burden you with the weight of it, but I see now that I made a mistake."
You met his gaze, emotions flickering in your eyes. "It's not just about work for me, Secondo. You're not just a passing presence."
He reached out, cupping your cheek tenderly. "You mean a lot to me too," he confessed, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "And it terrifies me to think that my decisions could jeopardize what we share."
"We share so much, and this is a significant part of your life," you leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand offering solace. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to share this with me sooner."
"I know, pasticcina. I should have," he admitted, his gaze filled with regret. "I see now that it was a mistake. I was foolish to think it wouldn't matter to you."
"It matters, Secondo. You matter," with a fragile smile, you whispered, "I don't want to lose you, Secondo. Not as a friend, not as... something more."
He sighed, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. "You won't lose me. I may be retiring from this position, but I'm not going anywhere, especially not from your life."
You nodded, wrapping your arms around him, gripping his shirt firmly. "I care about you, Secondo. More than I've allowed myself to admit. You mean more to me than I let myself acknowledge."
Secondo pulled back slightly, holding you at arm's length. "You are important to me, more than you realize."
"When did you find out about Terzo assuming the role of Papa Emeritus?" you inquired, curiosity lacing your voice.
"I always knew," Secondo confessed, his hands sliding to yours, gently holding them. "It's like we all have an expiration date," he added, a wistful smile gracing his lips. Your chuckle echoed in the air, and he responded with a tender smile. "There you go... That's how I like to see you, con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso."
You sighed heavily, pulling him back to you and guiding his hands to your back. Obediently, Secondo wrapped his arms around you, and you nuzzled your face onto his chest. Closing your eyes, you surrendered yourself to the scent of his cologne, letting it envelop your senses.
"Mi dispiace," he uttered. "I promise I won't hide anything from you again."
"I knew that you'd retire from your role as Papa Emeritus at some point, Secondo. After all, I'm part of the Clergy," you whispered, your face pressed against his chest. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon, or that it would hurt me so much to see you go."
"Mi dispiace..." he whispered in a very low tone, almost inaudible.
"It's fine," you turned your face to him. "I understand you didn't do it to hurt me or anything like that. I know you well enough to understand why you made those decisions. But I also want you to know that you don't have to hide anything from me. You never had to," you said with a sweet smile on your face as you gently pulled away from the embrace. "But we have a date, right? Well, we've already had a couple of them, but today is an official one. So let's focus on us tonight, and tomorrow morning we can go back to being Papa Emeritus and Deacon."
"You're right, pasticcina," he acknowledged with a nod. "Tonight, let's concentrate solely on us and nothing else." Taking one of your hands, he brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back of it. "Are you going to get dressed now?"
"Hm?" you looked down, noticing you were still wrapped in a towel. "Oh! Yes!" you chuckled, heading towards the bed.
Secondo tracked your movements, approaching you. "Are you planning to wear those?"
"Yes," you affirmed, nodding as you gathered the clothes from the bed. "But, why? Why do you ask?" A touch of nervousness tinged your inquiry. "Is there an issue?"
"No!" he exclaimed. "You'll look stunning in those, and I can't wait to see it."
"Secondo..." you said, turning to him with a shy smile.
The room fell into a hushed silence, and neither of you uttered a word. As you both stood there, locked in a silent exchange, Secondo moved decisively. Swiftly, he grabbed your wrist, drawing you closer to him. Your body collided against his, and in an unexpected turn, his lips fervently met yours. With widened eyes, you observed the shift from initial intensity to a more tender expression, his hands finding their way to your waist.
Secondo's hands held you firmly, conveying a sense of security as you reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, and you surrendered to the dance of tongues as his traced the contours of your lips. Your response was instinctive, parting your lips to welcome him. His scent enveloped you, the warmth of his body against yours intensified the moment. His lips moved with practiced finesse, and the soft dance of his skilled tongue on yours cast a spell, leaving you under its bewitching allure.
The warmth of his body enveloped you, and the moment intensified as he continued to explore you with his hands. His touch, both firm and gentle, sent shivers down your spine as he traced intricate patterns on your back. Breaths mingled, sighs of surrender punctuated the air. His lips brushed yours, a delicate dance that evolved into passionate bites.
Your arms gracefully left his neck, and your hands descended to his chest, gently caressing it. As your fingers traced patterns, you felt the exposed part of his chest beneath your touch, as if he remembered what you had told him. A silent chuckle escaped you amidst the entwined kiss, one hand now delicately resting on the exposed skin.
Secondo gently withdrew from the kiss, creating a subtle distance while keeping his face intimately close to yours, his lips lingering in a tantalizing proximity. "What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing," you chuckled, "I just can't help but find it amusing how you manage to be both charming and a tease all at once," your fingers trailed lightly along the contours of his chest as you replied. âAt least I find your teasing quite delightful, Secondo.â
He grinned, leaning in closer. âDelightful, sĂŹ?â His lips grazed yours with a tantalizing touch.
You playfully bit your lower lip. âVery.â
His breath hitched, and he murmured, âIs it fine to keep going?â
With a seductive smirk, you asked, âIs it fine to lose the date plans?â
Secondoâs eyes gleamed with desire. âPlans can be changed,â he confessed, his voice low and provocative. âWeâve had our dates, even if they werenât official. I believe itâs time to skip to the part where we honor our Dark Lord.â
"I guess it is," a mischievous glint mirrored in your eyes as you agreed.
Secondo executed a swift turn, guiding you toward the bed, causing you to walk backward until the plush mattress greeted your calves. Secondoâs hand skillfully lifted your leg, and his other hand moved to the back of your head. In one fluid motion, he laid you down on the bed. As you looked at him standing before you, a hint of desire lingering in the air, you couldnât help but bite your lower lip in anticipation. His gaze smoldering with intensity. He looked down at you, a commanding presence that sent shivers down your spine.
"What do we have here?" he purred, his voice low and demanding.
You met his gaze, your eyes filled with desire. "Just a willing Deacon, Secondo," you replied, a playful edge to your tone. Lifting one leg, you placed it on his thigh, delicately caressing it with your foot.
He crawled on the bed, positioning himself on top of you. His lips hovered dangerously close to yours. "Willing, you say?" His hand traced a path along your thigh, sending a jolt of electricity through you.
You bit your lip, a soft moan escaping. "Very willing."
A wicked grin played on Secondo's lips as he asserted, "Bene. Because tonight, you're mine," his eyes locked onto yours with a predatory glint. "Confess your sins to your Papa, what do you desire most in this moment?"
Your heart raced as you met his gaze, a surge of arousal coursing through you. "I desire you, Secondo," you confessed, your voice laced with longing.
He grinned, his fingers tracing a teasing pattern on your skin. "That's what I like to hear, "his hands explored your body with confident precision, leaving no inch untouched. "I want you to say it," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.
A mischievous smile played on your lips as you teased, âSay what, Secondo?â
His eyes darkened with desire. âSay youâre mine.â
A shiver ran down your spine, and you nodded in agreement. "Yours, Secondo."
As you spoke, a devilish grin spread across Secondo's face. With a swift movement, his hand reached your face, closing the remaining gap between you two. In an unspoken agreement, he captured your lips in a passionate kiss.
Inhaling deeply, your hands found their way to the back of his head, pressing his lips more firmly against yours as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Secondo lowered his body, creating an intimate connection as the warmth of his form pressed against yours, enveloping you in a heat embrace.
A blaze seemed to ignite within you as the heat of his body melded with yours, prompting you to arch your back and press yourself closer to him. Your hands traced over his back, fingers dancing along the contours of his muscles, exploring every inch of him in a fervent exploration.
Secondo's tongue delicately probed your lips, seeking entrance. You parted your lips slightly, granting him access to explore the depths of your mouth. The kiss intensified as he navigated every corner with his tongue. His arms ventured down, enveloping you and keeping you pressed against his firm chest. You could feel a growing bulge pressed against your stomach, sending a thrilling sensation coursing through your body.
A wave of pleasure surged through you as his tongue entwined with yours, eliciting a soft moan. The kiss deepened, reflecting the growing intensity of his desire. In response, you moved your hips against him, prompting a low groan to escape from him. He reached for your hips, pulling you firmly against him, now guiding the rhythm as he moved in tandem with your body. Your hands descended, gripping his firm backside, pulling him even closer to you. Slowly and deliberately, you parted your legs, inviting him to settle himself between them.
Complying with your desire, Secondo pressed himself more firmly between your legs, grinding his hardness against you.The increased pressure caused you to arch your back and neck, breaking the kiss as a soft moan escaped your lips. Sensations of arousal and heightened sensitivity coursed through your body.
Secondo trailed his nose and lips along your neck until he reached your lips. He pressed a lingering kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth, pulling it in a soft bite before releasing it. When you turned your eyes to him, you found him grinning devilishly.
"I want you," you murmured, your voice low and husky.
He nodded, a gaze filled with desire in his eyes as his hand reached for the towel that somehow still clung to you. Casting a silent question in his look, you gave a nod in approval. Without hesitation, Secondo swiftly removed the towel, leaving you completely exposed beneath him.
The towel fell to the floor as Secondo positioned himself on his knees between your legs. His eyes traced every curve of your body while his hands followed the same path. Completely focused on your form, Secondo's firm touch left you melting beneath him. His hands journeyed from your chest to your belly before reaching down to caress both legs simultaneously, prompting you to part them even further. His gaze was enchanted by the unfolding view, causing him to bite his lower lip in an effort to stifle a groan.
You settled your legs on his thighs, sitting in front of him on the bed. Your face moved to his neck, planting kisses while your hands worked to unbutton his shirt. His hands guided you to his lap, bringing your bodies intimately together. Sensing his hardness pressed against you, you couldnât resist the temptation to grind against it. The friction heightened, and you felt the heat intensify between your legs.
"Pasticcina..." he moaned, closing his eyes, his hands gripping your hips firmly.
The intensity of your kisses on his neck increased, each tender caress leaving a trail of lust. His breath hitched with the rising passion, and you could feel the vibrations in his throat as he hummed in response to the sensations you were creating. You brushed your lips along his neck, tracing a delicate path until you reached his ear, where you nibbled on the lobe with a gentle tease. The tension in his body palpable as he groaned in pleasure. Pulling you closer, he pressed his hardness against you, his breath growing labored as he fought to maintain control. Swiftly, as you moved your head back to continue the kisses on the other side of his neck, he took charge, laying you down on the bed and positioning himself on top of you, restraining your hands above your head.
Your eyes lingered on his body, tracing the contours of his muscular form. The sight of his physique, with a hint of a belly, didn't fail to stir desire within you. His chest, firm and adorned with chest hair that connected to the belly, drew your attention until it disappeared beneath his pants. The raw masculinity of his physique fueled the intensity of the moment, and you couldn't help but moan softly. The sight made you try to move your hands to touch him, only to remember he was holding them together. You turned your eyes to stare at him, and Secondo had a playful smile on his lips.
"What's funny?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your tone.
"Your face," he chuckled.
"Excuse me?" you demanded, attempting to free your hands from his grip.
Secondo lowered his face, closing the distance between your lips. "Your face," he whispered, brushing his lips against yours. "It's almost entirely painted in black," he continued whispering. "Because of my neck..." he licked your lips, coaxing you to part them slightly, giving him the space to slide his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately.
As Secondo released your hands, he shifted his focus, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, his warm lips exploring every inch of your skin. His journey continued down your chest, leaving a trail of desire until he reached your belly. Without hesitation, he ventured lower, between your legs, his strong hands spreading them gently. Secondo's touch explored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. The gentle yet firm caresses heightened the anticipation, and you could sense his warm breath against your skin as he inched closer to your wetness.
His eyes locked with yours, filled with a potent mix of desire and determination. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice raspy with need. "I need to taste you," he declared, his lips beginning to explore your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he inched closer to your core. "I need to see the way you respond to my touch."
"P-please..." your plea escaped your lips in a desperate whisper.
He smiled against your skin, a glint of desire in his eyes. "You're so willing," he remarked, his breath warm against your sensitive flesh.
Your moans filled the air as his tongue traced the contours of your core, your hips instinctively arching from the bed in response to the electrifying sensation. Unfazed, he took his time, savoring every inch of you, his tongue exploring and teasing your sensitive skin. With expert precision, he flicked his tongue over your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
Your moans escalated with the relentless stimulation of his tongue around your clit. The desire to urge him not to stop lingered on the tip of your tongue, but the mutual groans exchanged between you and Secondo were testament enough. Overcome with pleasure, you trembled as one of his hands descended slowly to your entrance. A gasp escaped you as you clenched around nothing.
He descended, his mouth trailing towards your core. Using his fingers to part your entrance, he delved in with his tongue, exploring your inner walls with fervor. Your eyes fluttered backward in pleasure as Secondo intensified the pressure, his nose teasing your clit with each movement of his head. Deeper he went, tasting and savoring your essence. Pulling back momentarily to relish the sensation, he returned, this time focusing his mouth on your clit while his fingers met your entrance again.
A soft whine escaping your lips as Secondo continued to tease you. His fingers rubbed your entrance, a torturous trail up to your clit, trapping it gently between his fingers. "Just put it in, please, Secondo," you begged.
As he continued to suck and lick on your clit, Secondo slipped a finger inside you, curling it upwards to find your sweet spot. A gasp escaped your lips as he hit it, and he hummed contentedly. Relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, he sucked on your clit harder, causing your body to shake. Not satisfied with just one finger, he added another, thrusting them faster and harder. The intense sensations overwhelmed you as his tongue circled your clit and his fingers moved vigorously inside you, making you so wet that he could easily slide them in and out.
"You're..." you breathed, contorting your body. "You're... going to-ah!"
Secondo slid his fingers out from inside you and gave a final slow, torturous long lick on your wetness, his nose rubbing against your clit. "I'm going...?" he inquired as he supported his chin on your pubic mound.
You looked at his painted face, a mixture of grey and black and white due to your wetness. One of your hands went to his face, stroking his lips with your thumb as you attempted to clean it. "You're going..." your voice turned into a whimper as Secondo parted his lips, licking your thumb. "Secondo... You're going to make me cum..."
He grinned and shifted his weight, hovering over you. "I want to make you cum," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "I'm going to make you cum so hard that coherent thoughts escape you. Do you want that, pasticcina?" he questioned, his voice low and husky, seeking confirmation.
You could only nod in response, the intensity of the moment leaving you speechless. His fingers moved down your body, eliciting shivers, and a gasp escaped your lips as they found your clit, swirling in slow, deliberate circles. Your moans filled the room, hips instinctively responding to his touch. You reached down and grabbed his hand pressing it harder against your core.
With a teasing grin, he pulled his hand away and rose from the bed, making you whimper im frustration. His eyes locked onto yours as he began to undress, his movements slow and deliberate.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, smirking slightly.
"I'm thinking about how much I want you."
A confident grin playing on his lips. "You won't have to wait much longer," he teased, letting his shirt drop to the floor.
Secondo unbuttoned his pants, maintaining the intense gaze between you. With a seductive smile, he let them slide down, revealing more of him. He stepped out of the pants, leaving him standing there completely exposed. You gasped at the sight, His member sprang free, hard and throbbing with desire. He stand there for a moment letting you take in sight of him. Your gaze shifted to his eyes, and sitting on the bed, you licked your lips. Extending your hand, you ran it up his thigh, sensing the muscles respond to your touch. As your fingers traced upward, they encircled his member. Initiating a gentle stroke.
"Mmm... That feels good," he moaned at the contact, his head falling back.
Your hand continuing to stroke him. You felt him twitch in your hand, and you watched as a drop of precum formed at the tip. You leaned down and licked it off, savoring the salty taste. âI agree,â you murmured, biting your lower lip as your gaze locked onto him.
He emitted a deep groan, his hips involuntarily rising towards your touch. With a smile, you leaned down, enveloping him with your mouth. His loud moan filled the room as you sucked on him, your tongue dancing around the tip of his member. His hands reached out, holding your head as he gently guided your movements, urging you on with needy moans. Each swirl of your tongue and every suction made him growl.
"Enough," he gasped, his voice strained with longing and restraint. "I need to be inside you."
With a fluid motion, you straightened your body, your hands gliding from his thighs to his chest, relishing the sensation of his hair brushing against your palms. As your hands reached his shoulders, you enveloped his neck with your arms, feeling the strength of his grip on your hips as he drew you nearer. The heat between you intensified, radiating from his body as his hardness pressed against your stomach.
"I think I can arrange that for you," you whispered.
Secondoâs hands trailed down your sides as he guided you to recline on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours, filled with a hunger that matched your own. With a graceful movement, he positioned himself above you, his body covering yours.
"I want to see your face as I enter you," he whispered, his voice low with desire. "I want to make you moan and writhe beneath me, to lose yourself in the pleasure I can give you," he added. "I want to hear your cries as I look you in the eyes," Secondo continued, his voice low and seductive.
You nodded, rendered speechless by the intensity of the moment as you awaited for him. Feeling the tip of him parting your folds, you quivered with anticipation. With a controlled movement, Secondo pressed the tip of his member against your entrance, his gaze ablaze with primal desire as he gradually eased himself into you. In one seamless motion, he filled you completely, stretching you.
"Oh, Satan..." you gasped, your voice a breathless whisper. "...So good," your hands instinctively found their way to his back, your fingertips digging into his skin.
As he started to move within you, a shudder of ecstasy rippled through your body, causing you to arch your back in response. His movements were deliberate. With a hypnotic rhythm, his hips moved in synchrony, exploring every inch of your being with a fervent determination. His hands trailed down your sides, leaving a tingling trail of goosebumps in their wake, heightening the sensations pulsating through your body.
Leaning down, he captured your lips in a fervent kiss, his mouth demanding and passionate as he claimed you with the same intensity that he was claiming your body. You surrendered to the fervor of his lips on yours and of your bodies pressed together. Each brush of his mouth against yours ignited a wildfire of lust, consuming you. As the intensity of the kiss peaked, Secondo pulled away, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race.
"Youâre so beautiful," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with desire as he gazed into your eyes, his hands tenderly caressing your face. "I want to be the one to make you scream my name," he whispered. "I want to be the one who makes you forget everything else in this world."
"Make me scream for your name," you whispered, your voice a sultry invitation. "Take me. Claim me as yours."
With a deep, primal growl, Secondo's movements became slow and deliberate. His lips captured yours in a searing kiss, igniting a fire that consumed you both. As his tongue entwined with yours, the intensity of the kiss deepened. His hands roamed your body, tracing every curve with a reverence that sent shivers of pleasure cascading through you. Unable to contain the ecstasy building within you, you moaned into his mouth as he continued to explore every inch of your body with his hands and lips.
Breaking the kiss, Secondoâs heated gaze lingered on your lips before trailing down your body. With a low, lustful growl, he whispered, "You're intoxicating, irresistible, just like the flames of Satan himself."
Secondo shifted his weight, supporting himself on his hands planted firmly on the bed. His eyes remained locked with yours. Feeling his gaze upon you, your hands instinctively found their way to his arms, gripping them as you spread your legs wider, offering yourself to him completely. As you tightened around his member, a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. With a fluid motion, he lowered his body onto yours, his weight pressing against you.
With a ragged breath, Secondo whispered hoarsely. "Cazzo, don't do that. Don't make yourself tighter than you already are..." His forehead pressed against yours, his voice filled with desire and restraint. "Merda, you take my cock so well."
You gasped at his words. "Ah-! And you fill me so good," you moaned, your voice thick with longing as you met his gaze with fervor. "Fuck me, Secondo, faster."
Secondo's lips captured yours in a hungry kiss, his movements becoming more urgent as he lost himself in the heat of the moment. "I want to devour you," he murmured between kisses, his voice husky with need. "To lose myself in you."
"You feel so good inside me... I need to feel every inch of you," you said breathlessly, your voice a mere whisper against his ear.
"Then take all of me," he growled, moving his hands to your hips.
As he started to thrust his hips with growing intensity, the sensation of his fullness overwhelmed you. Each movement inside you was palpable, igniting a pleasure that bordered on unbearable. The rhythmic motion of his thrusts filled the room with the sound of your bodies moving together, mingling with the heady scent of arousal that hung in the air. With each breath, your lungs filled heavier, matching the increasing pace of his thrusts, driven by the rhythm of your bodies.
"Oh, fuck," you moaned, your voice hoarse with desire. "Yes, yes, just like that, Secondo! Don't stop!"
He intensified his movements, his hips thrusting faster and harder with each passionate stroke. The echo of flesh meeting flesh reverberated throughout the room, a testament to the intensity of his desire as he pounded into you relentlessly. With each thrust, the pleasure within you surged, every inch of him filling you with a sensation that drove you crazy.
Moans escaped your lips with every rhythmic thrust, your body responding eagerly to his fervent thrusts. You felt the heat of his body pressed against yours, his weight bearing down on you as he held you close with an unyielding grip on your hips. The sound of his ragged breath mingled with yours, the rhythm of his heartbeat synchronizing with your own in a primal dance of passion and lust.
You gasped out his name, your voice a breathless plea for more. "Yes, Secondo," you moaned, "Don't stop... I need you."
Secondo's response was a growl of approval, his movements becoming more urgent as he surrendered himself completely. "I won't, I'm here, I'm yours," he whispered huskily. "Completely and utterly yours."
The intensity of the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you, each sensation magnified by the heat and weight of his body atop yours. Despite the almost unbearable ecstasy coursing through you, the feeling of him inside you was intoxicating, leaving you yearning for more.
With a fluid motion, you wrapped your arms around Secondo's neck and your legs around his hips, shifting the positions effortlessly. Rolling your body with grace, you laid him down on the bed before positioning yourself on top of him. As you placed your hands on his chest, lifting your body to gaze down at him, Secondo's eyes widened in awe, his gaze fixed on you.
"What?" you chuckled softly as you ran your hands along his torso, caressing the contours of his chest with gentle strokes.
His breath caught in his throat as your touch sent shivers of pleasure racing through him. "You're... breathtaking," Secondo murmured, his voice husky with awe. "I can't believe you're real."
You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, a mischievous twinkle in your eyes. "Oh, I'm very real," you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. "And I'm all yours."
With a playful grin, you withdrew your face just out of Secondo's reach, teasing him as he attempted to close the gap between you. Lowering your hand, you seized his hardness, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from him. Secondo's hands found their way to your waist, guiding you as you slowly positioned yourself above him.
You lowered yourself onto him, feeling the tip of his member parting your folds as it slid deep into you. A moan escaped your lips as he filled you completely, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity. Secondo's hands tightened around your backside, gripping it firmly as he pulled you down onto him, meeting your movements with urgent thrusts of his own.
"Ah!" you moaned. "Fuck, Secondo! Oh fuck! Just like that, yes yes, don't stop," you cried out, your words a passionate plea for more.
You felt the firm grip of his hands on your ass, holding and pulling you down onto him with each powerful thrust. The intensity of his hardness inside you grew with every stroke, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. As he filled you completely, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending bolts of pleasure coursing through your body.
With a desperate need for more, you rolled your hips on top of him, seeking out additional friction and stimulation. The mix of sensations was overwhelming, each movement igniting a symphony of pleasure that was impossible to resist. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies moving together, lost in a whirlwind of passion and desire.
"I'm going to cum," you whimpered, your hips moving faster in search of release. "I'm going to cum, Secondo, please make me cum," you pleaded, you could feel his cock throbbing inside you. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum."
"Cum for me," Secondo pleaded, his voice filled with longing as he urged you to let go and release yourself. "I want to feel you cumming around me."
You cried out, the waves of ecstasy crashing over you as the pleasure reached its peak. In that moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, allowing it to consume you in a blissful haze of sensation and desire.
"I'm cumming," you moaned, your voice raw with desire as the pleasure crashed over you.
Your body tensed and convulsed around him, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips as he felt your walls clench tightly around him. With a final, deep thrust, he slammed his hips hard against you, anchoring you in place. His member twitched inside you, pulsating with the force of his release, and you moaned in ecstasy as you felt him empty himself deep within you.
The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve ending ablaze with the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. It took all your strength to hold on to him as the aftershocks rippled through your body, leaving you trembling in their wake. Your body collapsed on top of his, both of you breathing heavily and fast.
With tenderness in his touch, Secondo's hand left your backside and trailed gently along the curve of your back until it reached your head. He gently guided your face towards his, his tired smile reflecting the exhaustion and satisfaction. As his lips met yours in a lingering kiss, a sense of contentment washed over you both. With a deep sigh, Secondo laid his back against the pillows.
With a hesitant start, you broke the silence. "So... What was the original plan for tonight?"
His gaze softened as he replied, "I was going to take you out for dinner." He traced patterns on your back as he continued, "Give you the flowers, we would have a nice talk, eat some delicious food, enjoy a drink," his voice trailed off wistfully, "and if you wanted to, we could end up with a kiss..."
"A kiss?" you echoed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Was that part of the plan too?"
He met your gaze, a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Only if you wanted it too."
You chuckled, biting your lower lip. "Do you think we could still salvage the first part of our date?"
"I'd love to," he replied, a glimmer of hope in his voice. "However, I don't think it's possible because I had reservations for us, and I think we may have lost the hour."
"You think?" You playfully arched a brow. "That's fine," you reassured him with a smile. "At least we had dessert."
He chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. "Am I dessert now?"
You grinned mischievously. "The most delightful one."
With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he leaned closer. "Come here then, let me give you another taste of it."
Secondo shifted his body on top of yours, his touch gentle as he cupped your cheek with his hand, his fingers tracing delicate patterns against your skin. With a softness that belied the intensity of the moment, his lips found yours in a tender kiss.
Grammar
Quegli sciocchi vecchi uomini - Those silly old men
Pasticcina - Little pastry
Impressionante - Impressive
SĂŹ - Yes
Grazie - Thank you
Genuino, attento e premuroso. Posso farlo - Genuine, attentive, and considerate. I can do that
Mi dispiace - I'm sorry
Nessun problema - No problem
Cretino - Idiot
Bene - Good
Molto bene - Very good
Cosa ti porta qui? - What brings you here?
Solo alcune questioni da discutere e... - Just some matters to discuss, and...
Fratello - Brother
Niente di importante - Nothing important
Le tue labbra - Your lips
Con quel bel sorriso sul tuo viso - With that pretty smile on your face
Fuckkkkkkk Iâm feral!!! Oh how I needed this masterpiece. I love good Secondo fics and you donât disappoint. But now I need to go figure my life out seeing I canât have a bone daddy like this
The worst part about fanfics is when we finish it and be like "Ok, now where can I find one of those for me? Where? Where are you hiding?", but at least we can have it over and over again by reading it!
I'm really glad you enjoyed it, means a lot to me to read that especially because of my time away. Hopefully I'll finish soon the one I've been working on right now and then we can have more daydreams!
Papas and a Cardinal wearing Strawberry shirts and the question is:
Who wore it better?
â đ Thank you @kabukiaku for making this shirt come true, for being a lovely person and congrats for your amazing talent. Please check the artist works it here (tumblr) or here (instagram)!
I'm still learning digital art, it's so hard to paint but I'm doing my best! Credits of the Harry Styles' song to @rainsbasspick
