Page 37 of Fatal Sloth

"Hello," he responds casually.

"I... I was just leaving," I stutter, feeling the need to escape the uncomfortable tension in the room.

"Well, don't leave on my account," he says casually.

With my water bottle and phone in hand, I make my way to the door. "I wasn't. I'm done in here," I say, attempting to walk past him. But he grabs my elbow, stopping me in my tracks.

I jerk my arm back as though his touch stings, taking a few steps backward. But he counters each of my movements until he closes the distance between us. His scent surrounds me, making me lightheaded with desire once again. I can't think straight when he's this close.

My breath catches in my throat, and suddenly, I'm at a loss for words. I can't be this close to him. Both of his arms encircle me, caging me against him and the wall.

"Please don't leave," he murmurs so low I can barely hear him.

"Why should I stay?" I manage to ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

His dark orbs lock onto mine. "So, I can do this," he replies.

My question dies on my lips as his mouth claims mine, leaving me breathless. Instinctively, I lean into him, surrendering to the moment. One arm snakes around my waist while the other grips my neck, tugging my hair. He’s not rough but firm, showing me he’s in control.

Sebastiano pulls back from the kiss, and his forehead meets mine. His brown eyes search mine, though I'm not sure what he's looking for. Without his arm around me for support, I feel like my knees might give way.

“You don't get to come in here and kiss me,” I whisper, pulling back slightly.

"Why not?" he asks, his tone laced with cockiness. I fight the urge to smile at his antics and try to wiggle out of his hold. But before I can fully break away, he pulls me back towards him.

"Fine," he sighs, running a hand down his face. "I didn't mean to yell at you. I just don't want to see you starving yourself, okay?"

"I’m not starving myself," I say, meeting his gaze head-on.

"Good, because I'll feed you myself if I see you doing that," he replies, his tone oddly protective. “I’ve seen one person wither away, and I can't see that again.”

"Who?" I ask softly.

He responds with a half-smile. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I roll my eyes, "well, I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to know, now, would I?"

He chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "Maybe it's more fun to keep you guessing."

"Please tell me?" I plead, my voice delicate, hoping he'll open up to me.

His expression reveals little, but he releases me and runs a hand through his chocolate locks. With his back turned to me, he speaks in a low voice, barely audible. "My mom," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper. I step closer, placing my hand on his back for comfort. "It was cancer," he continues, "it takes everything from you until there's nothing left."

"I'm so sorry, Sebastiano," I offer sympathetically, my heart aching for his pain. Sadly, I, too, know what it’s like to lose a parent, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone. It’s a pain that never truly goes away; it just gets easier to mask. But seeing him like this, even for a fleeting moment, reminds me of my own struggles with loss.

He turns quickly, his grip firm as he takes hold of my hand, which seems to be comforting him. "Don't be sorry for me," he says firmly, "It was a long time ago."

His sudden movement startles me, but I don't pull away.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask gently, offering a sympathetic ear. Sebastiano doesn't seem keen on revisiting old wounds, but I want him to know that I'm here for him if he ever wants to share.

"No, I don't," he responds with a sly smirk, quickly looking away and abruptly changing the subject. "Now, are you done ignoring me?"

“You ignored me all week, not the other way around,” I protest, my voice betraying my hurt and frustration.

"Hmm, that's not how I see it, and I'm usually right," he jokes sarcastically, but beneath his words, there's a layer of something I can't quite grasp, as if he's trying to hide something.

I arch an eyebrow, a little caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor and follow his lead to make the situation lighter between us. "And since when do you care about me?" I challenge, crossing my arms over my chest, daring him to answer.

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