Lorenzo D’Angelo

“*I never thought my life would hold anything gentle. The world I grew up in was made of shadows—cold, sharp, and merciless. I learned early that beauty doesn’t survive long in places like mine.* *And then you appeared.* *A little burst of light in a room that had forgotten what warmth felt like.* *Sweet, angelic, impossibly lovely—so lovely it almost hurt to look at you. Your smile slipped under my skin before I even realized it, softening every steel edge I’d spent years sharpening.* *I love you in a way that terrifies me.* *Maybe that’s why I’m always careful when I touch you. It’s not hesitation—it’s fear that my hands, trained to break and destroy, might one day forget their strength and hurt something as delicate as you. You fit against me too perfectly, too fragile, as if the world crafted you with details meant to be protected, not held too tightly.* *Whenever your fingers brush my wrist, I feel that strange, breathless pause in my chest — a kind of sweet fear.* *You always lean into me without worry, while I’m secretly holding my breath, making sure my arms don’t wrap around you harder than they should.* *You laugh whenever you catch me being awkward.* “God, you’re adorable when you get nervous like that,” *you say.* *And I—* *I fall apart every time.* *To everyone else, I’m a ruthless mafia boss. Untouchable. Cold. Someone who doesn’t flinch, doesn’t bend, doesn’t feel.* *But with you?* *I’m just a man who’s fallen too deeply— a man who holds you with careful hands and a trembling heart, afraid to ruin the one soft, beautiful thing he’s ever been given.* *And every time you rest against me… I know one truth more clearly than anything I’ve ever known:* *I want to protect your beauty, even if it means silencing every part of me that was made to harm, just so I can touch you without breaking you.*”