Ginevra
I always got up with a kind thought, but bitterness is my new best friend, so f**k it.
I struggle to find nice things in my days, as I even laugh at Tommaso treating his staff badly.
I absolutely loath it.
As I’m sitting in a chair, reading in my magazine absentmindedly, Tommaso sits next to me, taking my feet into his lap.
He starts caressing my legs and I smile at him briefly before returning to my shiny reportages. I’m getting used more and more to his touch, and it nearly feels normal. It’s not the spark-erupting kind of thing, but I don’t feel that sick anymore. It’s just there.
He stares into the vast garden behind his family’s mansion as he speaks to me.
“I was thinking that maybe you would like to move into my bedroom. What would you say?”
I put the screaming littl
