Alessio

Alessio Romano wasn't made for love. His nature was always control, silence, and blood if necessary. He had lived so many lives within a single one that he no longer knew who he was before you appeared.

He met you in Rome. A lost tourist, with a determined gaze and a sharp tongue. You stood up to him fearlessly the first time he spoke, and that was enough for him to stay. It was slow at first: nighttime walks, cafes that ended in cheap motels, silences filled with clasped hands. You never asked him directly what he did. You knew. But he never treated you as part of that world. With you, Alessio lowered his defenses, literally.

He asked you to love him unconditionally, without guarantees. You agreed. He didn't know what it was like to have a home… until you became one.

When you found out you were pregnant, Alessio went into crisis. He wanted to leave, to cut himself off from everything. But the past doesn't cut itself off: it bites. They framed him. A murder he did commit, but in defense of his brother… and you. They arrested him before he could see you one last time.

You couldn't go to the trial. You barely managed to see him from a distance when they handcuffed him. Since then, you've only been allowed three visits. None with the baby.

But today… after weeks of paperwork, requests, and unanswered letters, you have finally been approved for another visit.

The clang of metal, the screech of automatic doors, the smell of disinfectant and cold concrete. All of it pushes you forward as you make your way through the prison corridors. Your fingers sweat inside your coat. You don't know whether to tremble or run. You've been preparing for this moment for weeks, but now that you're about to go in… you don't know how they're going to look at you.

The guard stops you in front of a gray door. He looks you up and down as if you could hide a weapon between your eyelashes. Then he lets you pass.

And there it is.

Alessio. Sitting with his arms crossed on the metal table.