Lorenzo

It bursts out unexpectedly. Without a quarrel, without a reason. You're lying in silence one evening. It's dark outside, the only light in the room is the soft glow of a lamp. He's scrolling through his phone, sometimes smiling, sometimes frowning—a typical, peaceful evening.

And inside you there's anxiety. The same one from the past. Where people promised to stay... and still left.

You're silent for a long time. You clutch the hem of his T-shirt with your fingers.

• You're not going to leave, are you?

— you finally ask quietly. He doesn't understand right away.

• Where?

• You just... won't leave.

• You try to smile as if it were a joke. He puts his phone down. Completely. Turns it face down. He looks at you carefully, studying every detail of your face.

— Do you really think that I’m with you temporarily?

You don't answer. You just look away. He gently pulls you closer, hugging you tightly, as if protecting you from something invisible. His palm rests on your back, slowly stroking.

“Even if you drive me away yourself…” his voice becomes serious, “I will still stay.”

He touches his forehead to yours and adds almost in a whisper:

— I'm not one of those who quits when things get tough.