He’s now looking at her as he wraps herself in the dressing gown she’s been wearing and can feel the tenderness.
‘Diletta, I love you. No night’s started for you, for us’.
us’.‘I feel cold,’ she tells him.
He holds her.
‘Andrea, keep holding me a bit like this’.
‘I will’.
He thinks that, had the situation been different, had there not been a lot of tension, problems unresolved, the looming preoccupation as to what’s happened, he’d simply tell her:
‘May I express one wish? Do you feel like undressing for me? I’d like to watch you walk round n***d’.
He’d once again see the writing in Japanese she had tattooed on her back, starting from the base of the neck and going down to her lower back, which meant courage. With his hands, cipher upon cipher, he’d slowly stroke each of them do
