Santi's voice cracked.
"I like you… no—no, I love you, Nico Luciano," he breathed, eyes wet, chest heaving. "I love you with all my heart."
Nico stood still, arms folded, eyes unreadable.
Santi stepped closer, fists clenched at his sides.
"Since college… when they bullied me, when no one even looked at me twice—" his voice wavered, "—you walked in like a goddamn storm. Scared them off like it was nothing."
His hand moved to his chest, trembling slightly.
"You probably don't remember," he whispered, voice shaky. "But I do. Every single day. Every time you defended me. Every time you called me 'kid' and ruffled my hair like I mattered."
Santi's breathing got faster. His fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt and he ripped it open halfway, exposing the 'N' tattoo inked just beneath his collarbone.
"This," he said, stepping into the moonlight, "it's not for Nero or Noah or some random fucking name. It's you. Nicholas. Nico."
Nico's jaw twitched.
