"I will" he said in all seriousness, "I'll get out of here" His eyes held so many emotions. His voice spoke every word so meaningfully that for one second, I thought I had made it up. He wouldn't take his eyes off of me, scrutinizing my every cell. He realized the effect he had on me by the way my breath caught on my throat, and a slick smirk made its way to his face, satisfied that he could play with me just like I can play with him. Suddenly, that weird tingling feeling you get when you haven't moved your foot for a long time started to emerge from my core, expanding itself from the tip of my toes to the hairs in my head. "And when I do, I'll find you. No matter where you've run to, I'll always find you". 'Why is the room suddenly so hot?', I thought to myself as I discreetly rub my thighs together in order to cease some of the tension his thick accent was causing to build up. He slowly leaned in, leaving only a few millimeters between our hungry lips. "Then", he whispered ever so slowly and delicately against my lips. "There won't be any handcuffs keeping me from touching you farfalla" he smirked. - Could that possibly happen? I mean, he was given quite a long sentence... could he really get out and start over? But one thing I was sure of: If he were to be released, he'd come for me. He meant what he said. . His nose didn't twitch. . But my heart did.