The light from the spotlight at the entrance of his house fluctuated randomly, forming scattered shadows on his face. Her breeze was lukewarm, but it seemed to her that the air was getting stifled.
"Santino ..." She felt that her voice had dropped considerably. Her hands reached into each other, placing them in front. "What are you doing here?"
What a question and what an attitude. She felt her tremble like jelly, her fingers nervously running between her knuckles. Her heart was beating slowly as if she had rushed into a grueling race. She was smiling, or at least she was trying to.
And apparently, the boy did not see himself in a calmer condition than she.
"I ..." he started to say herself. He didn't show that stupid stutter, his mouth was just a little dry. Blame it on the heat, mayb
