Read Online A Veil of Glass and Rain by Petra F. Bagnardi - Free Book Online Page A

with
    triumph.
    “Brina.” His tone is firm. I recognize the
    warning. I stop squirming, because I don't want
    him to push me away.
    Eagan doesn't let me go. We remain
    wrapped around each other for a long
    moment; our breathing is labored, our hearts
    beat a fierce rhythm. Gradually, our limbs
    release their tension. Eagan caresses my hair
    and strokes my back.
    “Go if you have to. It's fine,” I tell him.
    He brushes a soft kiss across my cheek and
    speaks against my skin. “We're both going.”
    “Where?”
    “Out. It's a warm day. You need some fresh
    air.”
    I shake my head and begin to voice my
    protest, but Eagan squeezes me and interrupts
    my words.
    “Say yes, Brina.” His deep and rough voice
    commands.
    “Yes.”
    I take a quick shower, then I put on a purple
    tank-top, a black long-sleeved shirt, jeans and
    snickers. Meanwhile Eagan puts drinks, the
    pasta salad and the cupcakes Clém prepared,
    along with a couple of blankets inside a back-
    pack.
    Eagan insists we take a cab. I try to protest,
    but he's immovable.
    “Let me take care of you,” he says.
    I let him, because I'm too weak and tired to
    do otherwise, but mostly because I love being
    the focus of his attentions.
    Eagan takes me to the secluded park near
    the Colosseum he told me about. He also
    shows me the deep pink hibiscus. As he
    reaches out to stroke its petals, however, I
    seize his wrist.
    “Don't,” I plead.
    Eagan nods. Then he takes my hand and we
    stroll under the tall pine trees for a while.
    “Have you been here before?” He asks.
    “Yes, at night.” I point to our left, where
    the curve of a small hill interrupts the view.
    “Over there, there's a jazz club. I've been to
    some concerts with Ivan and Alessio, during
    the summer.”
    “Cool. We should go together sometime.”
    “Sure.”
    It feels nice to make plans. Eagan wants to
    fix our friendship. I have to accept the fact
    that this is all I can have. This is all he can give
    me. And I'll do my best to cherish the blissful
    days like this one, when he's all mine.
    We find a spot where the grass is untouched
    by the shadows of the trees. The sun caresses
    my skin even through my clothes.
    Eagan spreads the blankets and empties the
    back-pack of its content.
    “Hungry?” He asks me, even as he sits cross-
    legged on one of the blankets.
    I mimic his position. “Not really,” I reply.
    I place a hand on my abdomen. Eagan
    frowns and covers my hand with one of his.
    “Is it always this bad?” He demands.
    “It used to be even more painful, but then I
    started taking the pill and it got better. I'm not
    on the pill now, so...”
    His fingers stroke mine. I stare at our hands
    on my belly.
    “I'm not dating anyone. What's the point?” I
    continue.
    “Get back on the pill, Brina,” he says.
    I glance up at him and murmur my promise.
    Afterward, Eagan insists on feeding me.
    There's a long string of protests in my head,
    but I don't utter them, for today is ours and I
    don't want to deny him anything. A pleasant
    blush warms my skin, as Eagan slips oily
    maccheroni and juicy tomatoes between my
    parted lips. I lick the fork tines after each bite
    and rejoice as I notice his blue eyes turning all
    shadowy and intense.
    He manages to make me eat more than I
    usually do. More importantly, he makes me
    enjoy the food.
    When he presses the bottle of water to my
    lips, though, I shake my head. “No way.”
    He laughs and hands me the bottle. As I
    drink and swallow, Eagan trails a finger down
    the column of my throat.
    I stifle a moan of pleasure.
    While Eagan gathers the remains of our
    lunch and then disposes of them, I lie down
    and turn onto my side.
    An undeniable ache wells inside my chest.
    Me head can pretend this is enough. It can
    build a wall around my heart, secluding it,
    shielding it from the screams of my desire, like
    the wall around this park protects the trees
    and the flowers from the noises of the city.
    But the cries are too loud. They pretend