Dario’s point of view.
Okay, I’m officially going crazy. I can’t stop thinking about what happened. About his lips, and the way those unique blue eyes—which remind me of the brightest days of summer or, better yet, the frail blue petals of forget-me-not flowers that have just begun to bloom and are covered by a layer of dew—shone when they were filled with tears as he gave me the best blowjob of my life.
Fuck, now you're a poetic motherfucker! The cold side of me that spent years upon years building walls around me so no one could get close and hurt me mocks me, and for good reason.
But if I want to be honest with myself, I have to accept the fact that I did look at him more than I looked at myself in the mirror over the last week. I discovered things that were in front of my face for 9
