[There's such a sense of desperation behind each of her kisses, behind the way he holds him, clings to him, as if she's afraid he's going to disappear right before her eyes. But each one is answered in kind, with another soft press of lips, another gentle touch, fingers drawing along her back in long, soothing motions.
Giving her up may have seemed like the right thing to do, as though it would be better for everyone. But then, giving up Cristina, allowing her to be married to someone else had seemed like the good and proper thing to do too. And she had spent the rest of her life loving him, longing after him. He had already given up one great love, he would not force the same fate onto another.
How could he start with what burdened him most when all of it felt like such a great weight, drawing him down into an endless ocean of loss and suffering?
Drawing in a deep breath, eyes falling closed as he bent his head, resting it upon her own.]
Cristina. [How long has it been since he had spoken her name out loud?] We were so young when we met, but I fell for her the moment I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. [The only one who had ever compared was the one who was currently laying wrapped within his arms.] After the deaths of my father and brothers, I had to leave Firenze. I asked her to come with me, but she did not want to leave her family.
By the time I went back to her, she was already engaged to another. I thought it was for the best. To let her go. So I left her there to get married. It was years before I saw her again. She yelled at me for leaving her. That it didn't matter if I thought it was for the best because she loved me. And then she walked away.
[He wished now that he had never left her that day. That he had asked her again to come with him. But that wasn't the sort of life he wanted for her. He had seen what it did to Claudia. He couldn't have done that to Cristina.]
The last time I saw her, she was being attacked by Girolamo Savonarola's fanatics. I tried to save her, but it was too late. She died in my arms. Her last words were that she had always been with me. That she wished we could have had a second chance.
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Giving her up may have seemed like the right thing to do, as though it would be better for everyone. But then, giving up Cristina, allowing her to be married to someone else had seemed like the good and proper thing to do too. And she had spent the rest of her life loving him, longing after him. He had already given up one great love, he would not force the same fate onto another.
How could he start with what burdened him most when all of it felt like such a great weight, drawing him down into an endless ocean of loss and suffering?
Drawing in a deep breath, eyes falling closed as he bent his head, resting it upon her own.]
Cristina. [How long has it been since he had spoken her name out loud?] We were so young when we met, but I fell for her the moment I saw her. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. [The only one who had ever compared was the one who was currently laying wrapped within his arms.] After the deaths of my father and brothers, I had to leave Firenze. I asked her to come with me, but she did not want to leave her family.
By the time I went back to her, she was already engaged to another. I thought it was for the best. To let her go. So I left her there to get married. It was years before I saw her again. She yelled at me for leaving her. That it didn't matter if I thought it was for the best because she loved me. And then she walked away.
[He wished now that he had never left her that day. That he had asked her again to come with him. But that wasn't the sort of life he wanted for her. He had seen what it did to Claudia. He couldn't have done that to Cristina.]
The last time I saw her, she was being attacked by Girolamo Savonarola's fanatics. I tried to save her, but it was too late. She died in my arms. Her last words were that she had always been with me. That she wished we could have had a second chance.