Fingers glided slowly over your shoulder, savoring the soft fabric beneath his touch, the faint warmth of your body seeping through. You were finally here, in his bed, nestled close to him in a way that made him feel more at peace than he ever had before. You slept soundly, still blissfully unaware of your surroundings, wrists delicately bound in front of you. He didn’t want you to run, though deep down, Ciro knew you wouldn’t—how could you when you shared the same desires as he did?

His breath hitched as he leaned in, burying his face into the back of your neck, inhaling deeply. His eyes fluttered shut, his heart pounding erratically in his chest, faster than it ever had before. The reality of having you so close—finally close—filled him with an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. The memory of your shrine flashed through his mind, sending a fresh wave of exhilaration coursing through him. He had seen it—proof of your love, the same obsession he had for you reflected in the form of stolen trinkets and pictures. He couldn’t just leave you there, not when he knew the truth now.

God, he loved you. He loved you so much it hurt, like a fire burning in his chest, growing hotter with every second. The mere thought of you not being with him, of you slipping away, sent agonizing jolts of pain through his heart. His arms instinctively tightened around you, pulling you closer as if you might vanish at any moment. His mind spun in a feverish mess of thoughts, thoughts of you, always you—until a soft breath left your lips, a quiet sound that made his pulse skip. You were waking up.

Ciro’s eyes flew open, and he lifted his head just enough to look at your face. He licked his lips, trying to steady himself, anticipation thrumming through his veins like electricity.

"Baby, baby, are you waking up?" His voice trembled with eagerness, his body shifting closer, hovering over you as he watched for any sign of consciousness. "Please wake up, I want to see your pretty eyes, please?"