Page 26 of Brando

I want to tell him it was always meant to be him. I want him to know I would have gone to the ends of the world to make him mine. I refrain from telling him that I had always wished it was him, instead of Frank. I don’t even want to think about that pariah, let alone mention his name in this sweetest of moments.

My fingers tremble as they trace the contours of Brando's jawline, my touch light, reverent, as if I am mapping a sacred path only I am allowed to navigate. His skin is warm under my fingertips, alive with a pulsating energy that mirrors the racing of my own heart.

Brando's hand gently cups my face, his thumb brushing against my cheekbone in a feather-light caress that sends shivers rushing down my spine. The intensity of his gaze holds me captive, those piercing blue eyes delving deep into my soul, searching for something I feel is both vulnerable and invincible at the same time.

“My Mia.” His voice is a husky timbre that resonates within the very core of my being as his breath strokes against my skin. He leans in closer, reducing the space between us until his breath mingles with mine, sharing the same air, the same moment.

His hands roam over my back, pulling me closer until every curve of my body melds into his. I wrap my arms around his neck, fingers threading through his dark hair. The kiss grows more urgent, more impassioned, as if we are trying to make up for lost time.

A low growl escapes from Brando’s throat as he presses me into the bed, looking down at me quietly as he starts to remove my clothes. He bites his tongue between his teeth, hungry for the next step in this passionate dance between two uniting bodies. His kisses travel from my lips down to my neck, marking a trailof fire that leaves me gasping for air but wanting more—always more.

I finally lay before him, naked and wanting, an offering of things to come. His eyes flick across my body, as though seeing me for the first time, his pupils dilated. A lock of hair falls into his eyes, and I reach up, pushing it away. It’s all in his eyes; every precious little glance he shoots me, every beautiful blink I don’t want to miss.

I watch him quietly as he moves from the bed and starts to undress, never taking his eyes off me. It’s as though even in this most intimate of acts, he puts on a show for me, removing layer after layer until he stands before me, in all his naked glory, his cock twitching as it reaches up across his navel.

He takes it in his hand, his eyes still on me, and strokes up and down until a bead or pre-cum escapes the tip. I watch in fascination as he swipes his finger across the liquid, then brings it up to my mouth, painting my lips with his essence. I lick my lips, tasting him on my tongue, my own wetness pooling between my legs. More than anything, I want this man in all the ways that I can have him.

I can feel his desire in every deliberate touch and every passionate kiss—declarations written on my skin for eternity.

Skin against skin, we explore each other with an urgency born from a mixture of fear and desire—fear of losing this moment and desire to never let go.

We move together rhythmically; slow and deep strokes that fill the room with quiet breaths and whispers of each other’s names. Brando worships my body with every touch; every kiss laid bare on my skin feels like a vow.

As we reach the peak together—a crescendo of emotions both raw and beautiful—the world outside refuses to exist. There is only this bubble that we currently reside in. There is only me and him and the undeniable truth that this isn’t just physical. This isa soul-deep yearning; a connection forged in the past and carried to the present.

Panting softly as we cling to one another in the aftermath, Brando presses his forehead against mine, breathes new life into me, and tells me that he’ll never let me go.

Brando’s hands are everywhere,igniting my skin with every touch, each caress a reminder that I am human. I hadn’t realized how much I was craving that elusive human connection until he worshipped me, his lips trailing down my body, igniting sparks of pleasure that leave me breathless.

I surrender myself completely as the night wears on, losing myself in him. I pour every ounce of emotion I’m feeling into these moments. My love, my fears, and my sorrow, knowing that this is a homecoming wrapped in the one passionate embrace I’d been waiting my whole life for.

His phone rings as dawn approaches, the silence broken by the blaring of his ringtone. We lay in bed, his arm twisted around my waist, and I’m unable to move, despite efforts I’ve made to extricate myself. I want to stay beside him forever, but the reality of my situation claws at my insides like a feral beast. Eventually, my sisters will be found and we’ll be on a plane headed out of here. The thought of leaving him severs the last thread of control inside me.

Brando answers the phone, his voice groggy with the remnants of sleep. He sits up suddenly, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he rubs a hand down his face and fumbles for his clothes. My heart is heavy as he slips out of bed. My eyes follow him as he wanders around the room, as though in a daze.

“Allegra’s having the baby,” he says, and he seems a little scattered as he dresses, anxiety overwhelming him. “I have to get to the hospital.”

Sadness sweeps over me as I mentally document every last detail of his movements, committing to memory the smell of his presence and the touch of his skin. He leans one knee on the bed, putting him closer to me, before he lifts my chin to meet his eyes and presses his lips to mine in a punishing kiss. This is the way I will always remember him. This is the memory of him that I want to hold closest to my heart. This is how I will always see him in my mind’s eye as he walks away from him…taking my heart with him.

It was always meant to be him.

14

BRANDO

We wait for hours until Allegra gifts us with a miniature version of her and my brother. My brothers crack jokes as they sit in the waiting room, while I slide up against a wall and think of nothing but Mia. It’s all I could do to tear myself away from her without actually dragging her with me to the birthing ward. I wanted to, but I thought that would just be awkward, since they only met yesterday.

The baby’s cries pierce through the silence of the waiting room—a sharp reminder of new life amidst our somber thoughts, and I watch as Scar brings a swaddled bundle into the waiting room. Scar’s laughter, genuine and warm, fills the space as he brings his daughter towards us for the first time. I watch from a distance, unable to shake the heaviness in my chest.

“Mighty quiet over there, Brando,” Scar teases as he turns my way, cradling his newborn with a tenderness I seldom see in him. “You going to come say hello, or are you planning on brooding all night?”

I push off from the wall, my heart twisting slightly as I approach. The little bundle in his arms has Allegra’s nose and Ican’t make out the color because they’re closed, but her eyes too are shaped like her mother’s.

“She’s beautiful,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

Scar nods, his gaze softening. “She’s got fight, like her uncle,” he says, nudging me slightly.

“Which one?” Lucky pipes up, stretching to his full height.

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