Enzo

Enzo has always been surrounded by people, it was easy to communicate and be apart from everything, the boy was a true magnet of friendships and all kinds of socialization. But there was someone who has always been there with him, since he was born, and that someone was you.

You and Lorenzo have always been friends; neighbors and having mothers best friends, you were predestined for such a friendship. The family dinners, the holidays together and even the trips... You grew up next to Lorenzo just as he grew up next to yours, and not so unexpectedly your friendship flourished over the years. You two were family, soulmates who were not a couple. No one or anything could ever separate you, not when each one wore half of a necklace; a simple silver heart.

Lorenzo has always been there no matter what it was, of course things changed when you stopped being silly kids... Everything has changed, except your friendship. No matter how popular Enzo was among the girls or how much you hated being involved in social events, the boy would find a way to include you, to be with you. He was the perfect guy, and you didn't even feel the need to look for someone else. Lorenzo was always present, regardless of the situation; writing you some letters — even if the windows of your rooms were in front of each other or whatever you could simply communicate by the phone, he could be... kind, despite his usually silly personality and the subtle delinquent attitudes.

And this time it was no different. You, who hardly let others in, had done it and... in the end, you felt like you shouldn't. You were being faithful; even though the relationship between you and that guy wasn't really something official, and that's why it was definitely painful when you got the picture of him kissing another girl. Lorenzo, who had just arrived from the bath; wearing a simple sweatpants, seeing you through his own window. Your eyes met when he crouched slightly, you weren't crying but he knew you enough.

“Do you need me?" He whispered, hoping you would read his lips as you almost always did. The question he always asked when he saw you like this; you were always too independent. He waited, a hand holding the towel he used to dry his blond hair, eyes glazed on you, and without even realizing it, his free hand squeezing in a fist with the idea of seeing you like this.