i couldn't wait for you guys to read it so here it is 

DELILAH DELUCA STOOD BESIDE HER OLDER BROTHER IN THE MOST BEAUTIFUL DRESS SHE OWNED. The length mirror in her bedroom reflected her glamorous self and her brother wrapped in a fancy dark suit, which brought out the cerulean colour of his eyes. Now that she was thinking about it, he could practically pass as a Shelby with his dark hair and light orbs.

Her hair was falling in shiny waves around the collar of her dress, which showed way more cleavage than she had ever dared to let the world see. At least, she looked pretty and dangerous in the black fabric, with her green eyes enhanced by the blackness of her mascara. She looked perfect, a beautiful doll with a golden necklace and the infamous signet ring of her family. Her brother usually wore it, but she liked having it around her middle finger every once in a while. 

"Are you ready?" Angelo demanded, a hint of annoyance behind his light tone. The man had been waiting for his sister for an hour now, eager to depart and join his friends in the new version of the Garrison.

"I think so," Delilah responded with a wink, turning around to look at how the dress fell on her back. "We are good to go, fratello."

Angelo sighed, opening her bedroom door as she slid her feet in her prettiest pair of high heels, the same ones she had worn when Thomas had taken her to Michael Gray's adoptive home. Once she was sure everything was perfect, the redhead walked down the stairs and joined her brother in the living room, shaking her head when he outstretched her coat towards her.

"You'll be freezing in an hour," Angelo warned, letting the piece of clothing fall on the back of the couch. "Don't ask for mine when your teeth will clatter."

Delilah laughed and opened the front door, adjusting the thick braces that were encircling her shoulders. Goosebumps rose on her skin when she stepped out but she ignored them, staring at her brother while he locked the door behind them. When he was done, he joined her side and offered his arm for her to take, which she gratefully did.

The walk to the Garrison wasn't that long, and it passed even faster with Delilah's mind being busy thinking about what Thomas could have done with the pub. Nothing extraordinary, she supposed, but fancy enough for him to try and surprise her. She couldn't wait to see the inside of the pub.

Stars were shining in the clear sky though black clouds were slowly accumulating by the horizon. Delilah's hand tightened around Angelo's forearm when her eyes fell on the Garrison's exterior, all lit up. The windows were circled by red velvet curtains and Delilah would have run into the pub if it wasn't for her brother holding her back.

"Finirai per cadere," he mumbled, pulling on her hand slightly. "I won't be the one helping you up."

"Always the gentleman," Delilah scoffed, reducing her pace to avoid any dramatic outcome.

Small groups of people were gathered in front of the Garrison, smoking some cigarettes or simply enjoying the breeze before entering the suffocating pub again. The advertisement in the local newspaper had taken its toll, considering the number of men and fancy women pushing through the double doors. The DeLuca siblings stopped by the front door, waiting for a couple to step in before it was finally their turn to come inside.

What Delilah saw then felt like a dream.

People were pressed all around the round bar — yes, a round bar —, ordering drinks in loud voices. High wooden pillars raised to the ceiling and tables were scattered all around the main room, chairs with plush velvet seats encircling the wooden surfaces. Double doors led to another room with pool tables and sofas, where a few people were in the middle of a competition with three women sitting down on the couch. Laughter echoed all around the room, golden and red being the main colour theme of the newly decorated Garrison.

"Mamma mia," Delilah whispered, lifting her gaze to the ceiling only to discover the engravings at the top of the pillars. "It's wonderful."

Arthur was serving people behind the counter, Lizzie's laugh echoing through the room as he leaned forward to light up her cigarette. The brunette was incredibly classy in her dark dress, with a golden thing shining through her dark hair.

"Oi, Sunflower!"

Delilah spun around to see John, Esme, Finn and a few people she didn't recognize sitting at a table on her right. She grabbed her brother's hand and dragged him to their friends, not even registering Thomas's presence behind the counter, raising his glass at his brother's new pub.

"I'm bloody speechless," she said with a chuckle, her eyes wide and staring at everything. She frowned when she noticed the glass of whiskey between Finn's hands. "Aren't you supposed to drink only water, Finn?"

The youngest Shelby rolled his eyes, taking a sip just to annoy the redhead. She outstretched her hand towards the glass and snatched it from him, only for the glass to disappear from her hand. She turned around and her eyes met Thomas's cerulean gaze, a tiny smirk parting his lips as he brought the glass to them.

"I have to admit, Tommy, I'm impressed," she stated whilst returning to her viewing. "It might just become my favourite place of all times."

"I'm glad it is to your liking," he whispered in her ear, pointing at Finn with the glass still in his hand. "Keep him off the whiskey, John!"

And just like that, he was gone. Delilah drifted her eyes to his brothers, who looked as suspicious as she was but didn't comment, turning back to the card game they had been playing since they had arrived. The redhead cleared her throat and spun around, waving at Arthur who had spotted her mere seconds ago.

"I'm going to go grab a drink," she whispered towards her brother, her hand sliding from his arm as they broke apart.

On the other end of the room, facing the crowd of people dancing around the pub, Thomas Shelby was thinking. He was thinking of the letter, this awful, dirty little secret weighing in the pocket of his coat. He was thinking of Grace, her light eyes and blonde curls swaying whenever she was moving. He was thinking of the betrayal she had committed, how he let himself go down for a woman he would never be able to trust — but he would lie if he said he never did. He trusted her at first, until Delilah had started raising suspicions towards the barmaid.

And she had been right.

As if his thoughts had called the redheaded woman, his eyes caught her walking towards the counter, easily sliding behind it to join Arthur's side. His brother hugged her from the side, his other hand outstretched to light up someone's cigarette, and her arms wrapped themselves around Arthur's waist easily. She was laughing at something Lizzie had just said, dimples digging her cheeks and pearly white teeth showing.

Delilah was astonishingly beautiful that night, with her black cross col dress, the golden necklace shining around her neck and the signet ring around her middle finger, too big for her. Her red hair fell in waves around her shoulders, concealing a little bit of her cleavage — a too little portion if you asked him. Her plump mouth was moving as she talked with Lizzie, sometimes leaning forward to try and hear the other better over the music and booming voices.

The more he stared at her, the more he identified differences between Delilah and Grace. His mind could tell him all it wanted that it wasn't a good thing, he couldn't help it and he even felt a little bit better knowing they were opposites. However, when he found himself mesmerized by the curve of her lips and felt the desire to approach her just to see her better, a memory flashed in his mind. A memory of lips moving against his, in the secret of a deserted church by a Sunday afternoon.

Unable to handle these thoughts and knowing he wouldn't get away from them until he had read the letter, Thomas brought his cigarette to his lips and entered the silent and lonely backroom, right as Delilah finally spotted him. She frowned when she saw him disappear in the creeping shadows while it was his pub's reopening party, and whilst unwilling to intrude his space, she had to know why he had been acting this way. Maybe it was business-related, maybe it was something else; she would never know if she never tried to care.

Sliding behind the counter to join back the crowd, Delilah had a hard time making her way through the bodies dancing or drinking all around. Her ears were burning with all the noise surrounding her, music and voices mixed in an unbearable brouhaha that made her temples hurt. The redhead smiled back to a few people greeting her politely, men's gazes following after her when she was passing by. For the first time, Delilah felt like she hated the weight of their attention if she couldn't have his at the same time.

She stepped into the same darkened room he had, travelling through the now empty pool room and arrived in the back room. Chairs and tables covered with red tablecloths were all around the room, and Thomas was sitting at one of them, a crystal ashtray in front of him and his eyes landing on her face, as if afraid she might discover something he had been hiding.

"You disappeared from your own party," she scoffed, bringing her glass of whiskey to her lips. "Doing such an insane job and throwing such a big party to be alone in a dark corner, that's kind of lame. You better be up to something extraordinary to compensate."

Thomas wanted to laugh at her comments, he deeply wanted to but he couldn't. Not when Grace Burgess's letter was in the palm of his large hand, hidden from her careful stare; not when she was looking that good; not when she had searched for him in the middle of a party she was supposed to enjoy, just to discover he was reading the barmaid's letter in secret, guiltily. As if hiding something.

He had lied once, he didn't want to betray her again. So, he did the only thing he could do: he carefully placed the letter in front of him, his eyes following the cursive on the envelope. Delilah didn't need to read the letter or the address to know where it was coming from; for a second, all she felt was a burning hatred for the fucking blonde barmaid. Why the hell was she so fucking present in her life again? Now that she had found some normality back, she just had to come back and ruin everything for her.

"Oh, I, I, I just wanted to, you know, I —" Delilah looked down at her shoes for a second, focusing on what she was feeling at the moment. In a second, she was looking back at him, a fake grin he despised and a stare so cold he could feel his heart freeze covering her features. "I get it. Good job with the pub and, um, I guess I'll see you later."

As she was spinning away from him, swaying her hips until she disappeared through the crowd of people, Thomas wanted to scream for not holding her back. He hated that he needed to read the letter first, to be sure he wasn't feeling anything towards the blonde having a love story with another man when she'd betrayed him so unhesitantly. He needed to know, he wanted to know.

He wanted her. But he didn't want to think about a blonde barmaid while trying whatever he was trying with the redhead. So, he stayed sitting in his chair, lit up a cigarette and tore the envelope.

ஜ۩۞۩ஜ

Delilah was sitting at a table between Finn and John, her tiny body squeezed in the middle of the brothers. John's hand was resting on Esme's thigh, caressing it every once in a while. On the other hand, Finn was focused on what Delilah was desperately trying to teach him, his four cards face down on the table. The blond boy furrowed his brows, turning his head towards the redhead who simply sighed.

"Finn, you idiot!" John whined, slapping the back of his brother's head. "Just focus, mate, it's not that hard."

"If your brother can do it, you can do it too," Delilah snorted, this time being on the receiving end of the slap. "Don't fucking hit me like that!"

"Don't fucking talk about me like that!" he retorted with his eyebrows raised. "And fucking pop your collar up, they're all over the fuckin' place!"

This time, Esme's hand hit her husband's forehead and he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. The brunette chuckled as she captured John's lips with her own, her body entangled in his. No doubt, if they carried on that way, all the people around would probably see them shagging by the end of the night.

Delilah grabbed her almost finished glass of whiskey and let her eyes travel through the crowd. When she stared at the backroom double doors, Polly appeared, wearing her most beautiful coat around her shoulders. Her curls were amassed at the top of her head wonderfully but as soon as they made eye contact, the brunette turned away, walking towards the counter. The redhead sighed, placing her empty glass on the table and standing up.

"I'm going to the bar, do you guys want something?" she asked, being highly ignored by everyone — apart from Finn, who shot his shot and managed his most effective puppy eyes towards her. "I'll grab you a drink but don't tell anyone."

"Thank you, Della," he whispered and she winked at him, disappearing through the crowd.

Perched on her high heels, Delilah was tall enough to identify Polly with her back leaning against the counter, discussing with an older man wearing an ugly moustache. Delilah had never imagined Polly, pretty Pollyanna Gray, going for the moustachioed lost in the middle of a pub. The older woman laughed at something he said, hiding her growing smile behind her cocktail. Delilah then looked away, unwilling to be caught staring at Polly again.

Angelo had disappeared during the evening and it was sitting at the counter that she found him, apparently in deep conversation with Lizzie. The brunette had even forgotten about her cigarette, slowly consuming in her hands while she was listening to Angelo talking about something. Truly, they looked pretty together and that was the reason why Delilah didn't interject — just to tell Angelo she had looked for him everywhere.

"Look at 'em lovebirds," Arthur spoke when she leaned her elbows on the wooden counter, subtly pointing at Angelo and Lizzie. "Who would've thought, eh?"

"I mean he could've fallen for worse," Delilah responded with a shrug. "If he loves her then he's got my blessing."

Arthur weirdly glanced at her. He couldn't really place the moment they started talking about true love: he was simply teasing her brother like they always did. Behind her warm gaze turned liquid by the liquor, he saw a glimmer he couldn't identify with his foggy brain. He decided to forget about that for now and deal with this in the morning if he happened to remember it.

"What can I get you, love?"

"Two whiskeys, Arthur," she kindly asked, a grin slowly taking over the thin line she had been displaying. In a heartbeat, the glasses were placed in front of her and she grabbed them quickly. "Don't forget to join us sometime Arthur!"

The older man winked at her and waved her away. Delilah turned around and the moment she turned her face towards the table, a smaller body collapsed against hers. The shock wasn't important enough for the whiskey to jump at her face, but a few droplets did escape the glasses and stain her dress. Polly's face looked up at her but she walked out of the situation faster than Delilah could register, staying standing in her spot while everyone else was dancing around her.

"Fuck's sake," she whispered, noticing her hands trembling around the glasses. Maybe she was the one who didn't see Polly coming her way, or perhaps the woman had bumped into her on purpose. "I might just kill them all tonight."

She shook her head and walked back to the table, struggling to keep her mood light. Delilah gave Finn his drink and finished hers in one gulp, not even savouring the liquor but literally drinking herself up to forget the rage boiling in her veins. She stayed standing, every voice around the table fading as she focused on her breathing, afraid she might just snap then and there and start crying.

Esme appeared on her right side, holding a baby boy Delilah immediately recognized: Karl Thorne, Ada's blonde and beautiful baby. When their gazes met, Karl reached out in her direction and Esme gave her the baby, a sweet smile plastered on her lips. Delilah lifted the boy in her arms, their faces only inches apart as her fingers tickled his sides, making him laugh and wrap his arms around her neck.

"I missed you so much sweetheart," she cooed in the boy's neck as he all but screamed right into her ear. "How do you like your house in London?"

"Big!" Karl exclaimed, letting go of her neck to extend his arms in the air as if representing his house's size.

"I know," Delilah laughed, hugging the boy one last time before turning towards Esme who took him into her arms again. "Where the hell is his mother? I absolutely need to see her."

"Yes you do need to see me," Ada confirmed behind her, barely finishing her sentence before Delilah all but threw herself at the younger girl. "It's basically as if you were living with me with your men roaming all around the house. Some of them are handsome though, I'll admit."

Delilah burst out laughing as she broke from her friend's embrace, not even glancing at her brother standing silently by her side. He was staring at her, she could tell; for what, though, she had no idea. In his mind, Thomas was thinking about Grace's letter burning in his ashtray. In the end, he had decided not to read it, not because of Delilah's obvious disappointment but because he didn't feel like he specifically needed to know what it was saying.

What he wanted to know was why she had betrayed them both when they were supposed to be friends. More than friends, in some ways.

"Oh, Ades Blades, you're so beautiful, I fuckin' missed you!" Delilah exclaimed, her drunken state making her wildly communicative. "How is London treating you, love?"

"I mean, better than a few weeks ago," Ada stated with a slight smile. "Thanks to Thomas's money and your wise choice of a neighbourhood, we're safer than we've ever been. Your men are also quite efficient, dare I say."

"If any of them ever bother you, just give me a call and I will have this handled," Delilah assured, her delicate hand resting on the brunette's shoulder. Her tone had retrieved its usual seriousness. "I don't want you feeling uncomfortable around them."

"Don't be stupid," Ada retorted with an eye roll. "They're all very nice to us. How come you smell so much like whiskey?"

Delilah glanced down at her dress, which had dried from the spilt liquor, and drifted her eyes towards Finn's empty glass. Now that there was nothing in it, she could admit her sins and tell the whole story.

"Thanks to Polly spilling both Finn's and my drinks all over me, now I smell like everyone's favourite beverage," the redhead sighed.

At the mention of his brother's name, Thomas glared at him, which made the youngest raise his hands in the air. Thomas sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, cigarette hanging at the edge of his mouth.

"I thought I'd told you not to drink, Finn," he groaned.

"She offered!" Finn exclaimed, pointing at the redhead.

"No, don't try and get away with this," Delilah warned, her finger pointing at the youngest Shelby sibling. "You knew exactly what you were doing. Everybody knows I can't resist his bloody puppy eyes."

Around the table, laughter echoed, even Thomas letting out a quiet chuckle at her reply. Ada's smile widened and she couldn't help but realize how badly she had missed the tiny redhead. Caught up in the belief that she would turn out to be exactly like her brother, Ada had forgotten that Delilah could be soft and gentle when needed to. Unlike her brother, that is.

"Wait until you see Karl's, then. Irresistible," Ada affirmed with a joyful grin. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I have talking duty."

"Good luck with that," Delilah muttered as she sat back into her comfortable chair, ignoring Thomas when he settled in the seat beside hers. "Can someone tell me why there isn't more women in this fuckin' group?"

"Can you tell us who's scaring them away?" John retorted with a playful glint in his eye, outstretching a glass full of liquor in her direction.

"Oh don't put this on me," Delilah laughed, rolling her eyes at her friend. "I'm certainly not perfect, but you Shelbys, except for Finn who's the most adorable one, are all cold bitches who disregard or despise everyone. It's not my fault they're afraid of you."

Silence fell upon the table for a short moment, before John and Finn started arguing about the word 'adorable' signification. Delilah listened to their animated hearing until she finally had enough, focusing on something else.

Warmth radiated from Thomas's body a few centimetres away from her, but she could tell he was preoccupied. He hadn't ceased glancing over his shoulder since Ada had left to talk with Polly, and now he was simply staring at his brothers absentmindedly, smoking his hundredth cigarette. Delilah's shoulders shook with a chill and she stretched her arm towards her own box of cigarettes and a lighter resting on the table, standing up and fastly exiting the Garrison. 

Outside, it was cold enough for her bones to freeze. A few men were still standing by the entrance, though most of them had already stepped inside or had gone back home to their bored wives. The sky was still clear of clouds, stars blinding her as she tried to identify at least one constellation as her dad had taught her. Delilah gave up quickly, too drunk to even stare at the sky without slightly falling backwards, and focused on lighting up her cigarette instead. Which, apparently, was not in her abilities either since the flame would constantly die out.

A large hand wrapped around her own and she just knew who it belonged to. Polly had left with a young man a few minutes ago, and now that he couldn't busy himself observing his aunt, of course, he had to join and bother her. At least, his hand provided enough shelter for the flame to survive a few seconds, and she finally lit up her cigarette.

"Thanks," she said curtly, her voice soft as she exhaled the smoke.

"I burnt it," Thomas stated bluntly, which made her frown for a second until she realized he was talking about the letter.

"You don't owe me anything, Thomas," she assured, bringing the cancer stick to her lips. "Whether you read it or not is not of my concern."

Of course, she would shut down. Thomas had prepared himself for this reaction but he didn't want to shut down. For once, he felt courageous enough to face the truth, whether it would be a mutual one or not. He wanted to be sure so he could move on or try and put himself into something new, something he wanted. Not the illusion of love Grace had given him, but true devotion.

"I don't want to read what she has to say."

"I mean, yeah," Delilah scoffed, smoke exiting her mouth as she talked. "She's a spy, a woman who abused your trust, a fucking snitch who put all our lives at risk. Unless you deeply loved her, I don't get why you would ever want to hear from her."

She turned towards him, lifting her eyes to meet his. The glow of her cigarette reflected in the light ocean of his orbs and she found it even more attractive. How stupid could she be to be so damn attached to someone?

"It'd be fine if you loved her, I mean, it would be proof you're not completely heartless," she explained and he scoffed, looking away from her face. "What I want to say is why are you trying so hard to justify your actions? I forgave you a long time ago, you don't owe me anything about that."

"Why did you forgive me, exactly?" Thomas demanded.

That was it. She was trapped by her own big mouth. That was the reason why she had never been drunk around him, because of this. She couldn't fully control her words anymore which brought her into this kind of situation, where she had to explain herself on a subject she was more than ashamed of. She was too far gone anyway to back down, so she inhaled deeply and drifted her eyes towards the inside of the pub.

"Because I didn't want to lose you," she simply said, her voice silky and lacking its usual playfulness. "I moved here for you, I started working with you, I was scared. And I'm still scared to lose you, all the time. Well, not you specifically, I meant it as a group, but I'll admit I'm a little bit more frightened at the idea of losing you."

An angel passed by before his large hands engulfed her face and his body was pressed to hers. In a second, he was locking their lips in a chaste kiss, tongueless but probably the sweetest kiss someone had ever given to her. She let go of her dying cigarette on the pavement and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him closer. It was like a necessity to feel him close to her, engulfing her tiny body in his strong arms until they parted lips to breathe again.

He didn't let go of her waist and she laughed, resting her forehead on his chest while he lightly kissed the top of her head, inhaling in her sweet scent. Peaches. He believed he'd never grow tired of her perfume, even if it'd stain all his clothes or his bedsheets.

"We definitely will have to talk about this," Delilah chuckled, all rage out of the window as she lifted her head to stare at his face again.

"Yes, we will," Thomas agreed before leaning forward to kiss her again. "But not right now."

"I agree," Delilah said lowly, bringing him closer to her to kiss him again. As if now that she had tasted his lips, she would never get enough of them. And, to be fair, that probably was the truth.

When they stepped into the Garrison again, a genuine grin parting Delilah's lips, Angelo had returned to his table with Lizzie sitting on his lap. The two were talking to each other, sometimes getting interrupted by one of the Shelby brothers. Ada had also joined the group, a glass of red wine in her hand and a sleeping Karl resting on Esme's shoulder.

"So this is where your coat was," Delilah interrupted the lovebirds, pointing at Lizzie while Thomas brought her down on a couch near his family. "I am feeling a bit saddened that I couldn't find it in time."

"I told you to take a coat when we left the house!" Angelo yelled, frowning deeply. "But always the fuckin' stubborn, you didn't listen to me and now you're paying for it."

Arthur cut off her reply as he slammed glasses full of liquor in front of everyone, inviting his friends and family to give a toast. He said something about delicious unmarried women, which Delilah felt disgusted about but didn't question when her glass clinked with everyone's. For once, they were all gathered around a small table but sharing stories and jokes and not preoccupied with business or killings. Everything felt normal for a short moment.

"Oh my God, Sunflower," John laughed, pointing at a corner of the bar. "He's fuckin' kissing her!"

Delilah spun around in the seat, staring at her brother passionately kissing her brunette friend. A grimace slowly formed on her face as she hid her eyes from the horrendous spectacle, turning around as fast as she could.

"I'm sure that bitch is falling in love with her," she whined, disgusted at the idea. "Imagine if he gets married and they have kids! Oh, fuck, he's going to leave the house!"

"What's so bad about him leaving the house?" Arthur chuckled, sharing an amused glance with Thomas.

"Well who's gonna live with me?" she almost screamed, making all the table laugh.

"I guess you're going to live with yourself," Thomas responded, and everyone nodded at his affirmation.

"At least they're not going to fuck in the house," Delilah said with a shrug.

Ada choked on her drink and Esme jumped, covering Karl's ear with one hand — even though the boy had been asleep for the past hour. The redhead chuckled and Arthur outstretched his hand towards her, urging her to shake it. Once they were done, he screamed an 'I love her' far too loud for a pub, the yell almost waking Ada's son.

"I don't think that he's going to move out tonight anyway," Ada reassured her, quietly sipping on her drink whilst a bottle of whiskey magically appeared on the table, Arthur serving everyone.

"Well, when he's done moving, I can take his place if you want to," Arthur offered, winking her way.

"Arthur, you must know your sacrifice is well appreciated," Delilah stated with a hand placed on her heart. "But you have to know we won't be sharing the same bedroom, I'm sorry."

Arthur buried his face in his calloused palms as Delilah let her temple rest on Thomas's shoulder, uncontrollable laughter escaping her throat. As she looked at all of them, saving Thomas for the end, she realized how truly happy she had been ever since she had moved to Birmingham. Sure, they had had their highs and lows, and it hadn't been easy all the time. But she had never felt so alive than with the Shelby family, Polly included, and for that, she was thankful.

That night, Angelo DeLuca didn't come home, following Lizzie Stark through the streets to her apartment instead. There, they stayed up until the little hours of the morning, witnessing the sunrise with wide eyes. Lizzie felt like a true woman when, in the late morning, Angelo excused himself to go back home to his sister and didn't leave any kind of money on the kitchen table.

Polly enjoyed her night close to a younger boy, appreciating his touch burning her skin and finding another kind of comfort she had been seriously lacking. Forgetting about her recent troubles, her family and her son, she let go of everything negative to relax and indulge in the man's strong arms. She remained unaware of his name, just like she was unaware of the surprise waiting impatiently on her porch, standing awkwardly in a town he didn't know. Michael had decided to give this stranger a chance, only to see her arriving at home dishevelled and with running make-up.

Finally, in the comfort of her bedsheets, Delilah tried to remember the feeling of Thomas's lips on hers when closing her eyes to get to sleep. Concluding she couldn't just fabricate this kind of memory, too personal and needing to be shared by two people, she simply opened her eyes and turned around, facing Tommy's body on the other side of the bed. Through the window, the sun rays illuminated the bedroom, making her eyes shine, and he didn't need to be asked to kiss her again, though his hands firmly stayed in touchable places. Neither of them had decided what to do with everything and now wasn't the moment; they only lost themselves in their kisses until they fell asleep, Tommy's arm laying across Delilah' waist, tasting the warmth of her skin through the thin material of her nightgown.

ITALIAN WORDS:

fratello: brother

Finirai per cadere: you're going to fall