Francesca
My room looked the same , but it felt completely different. Instead of the usual dread I experienced within these walls, I was relaxed. There were little touches of myself everywhere, from the lipstick on the side table to the bra I'd thrown on a chair. It was familiar, and I realized I no longer hated being here.
Was it because of Faust and Rome? Did I let their charm twist my mind into accepting this?
Or was I as dark inside as he believed?
Was he also experiencing this insane connection between us, this burning need for each other that felt too big, too important to be just lust?
I spent my life searching for something more, a way to find myself outside my father's orbit, as my mother wanted. And I never felt more myself than when I was with Faust. It was like
