Celeste;
One minute, I'm in my brother-in-law's arm, the next, I'm in my fiancé's.
And God help me, I don't mean to compare the scent of his black suit jacket to the leather one hanging on the armrest of the couch, neither do I mean to compare the muscles and heat from the one that wrapped around me minutes ago.
But their differences cannot be any more glaringly obvious.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to protect you." Romano's deep, somber tone fills the quiet.
It's only two of us in the room. My head rests against his chest, his large palm moving through my hair, slow and gentle. Too gentle.
"You don't have to apologize, Romano. Everyone tried that night." I tell him, my fingers curling faintly against his shirt.
He drags in a deep breath, his chest rising beneath my cheek. We fall into silence for five seconds. "I should have fought more," his chin settles on my head, heavier this time.
