Chapter 17

Lorenzo's POV

I may hate it here in this house but the one place I can never get tired of is the little balcony outside my bedroom where I sketch and pour out my worries and troubles onto a blank white paper.

The problem is that even this balcony that has been my sanctuary for ages isn't working anymore. I glance down at my drawing and eye the naked pane of Celestine's body. I haven't seen it in two years, but every inch of those curves are ingrained in my fucking head and they aren't coming out. No matter how much I want them gone. I've been pouring this frustration into drawings, just drawings after drawings. Drawings so vivid that I can make out the smattering of freckles all over her body. Make out the little birthmark she has over her top lips. Make out every last curl on her head.

In all these intricate and delicate drawings, she looks beautiful as fuck. Beautifully haunting. Like a ghost that comes out at night when you least expect it. And I'm the poor victim who can never