Remember Me With Your Body
The dreams had kept coming.
Blurry at first. Then terrifyingly sharp.
A stare. A coffee. A black jacket. A rough voice. A provocation.
Tension.
A room. A “shut up or kiss me.”
Screams. Fire.
Him. Everywhere. Inside me. With me.
I woke up all at once. Sweating. Breathless. Eyes wide open.
“Fuck…”
My heart was pounding too hard.
I looked around. Nobody.
Turned my head. The pillow next to me still carried his scent.
I reached for my phone on the table.
09:43.
I’d slept long. But I’d dreamed of him. Of everything.
And now… I knew.
I remembered.
Everything.
I gently removed the IV. Unplugged the electrodes.
Stood up. My legs wobbled a little, but I stayed on my feet.
I felt alive. More than in two months.
I opened the door, running into the doctor in the hallway.
“Hope?! What are you—”
“I’m a doctor, okay? I can evaluate my own condition. I’ll sign the discharge myself. I’m leaving.”
“But—”
“I’m not giving you a choice.”
He raised his hands, already defeated. Me, I was already elsewhere.
On the chair was the stack of clothes they’d left me: black skinny jeans, tight black tank top, boots, my brush, my hair tie.
I did a quick braid over my shoulder. Not perfect. But me.
I walked out. A taxi was waiting in front of the hospital. Chance or fate, I don’t know.
“Villa Romano. Fast.”
Before getting in, I glanced one last time at the entrance. The doctor still stood there. I raised my hand.
“And a tip… don’t tell anyone. I want to surprise them.”
Then I slammed the door.
And I left to find the man I loved.
I hadn’t slept. Not really.
I was on the terrace, shirtless, head a mess, a cigarette between my fingers and a cold coffee at my side. I hadn’t moved for an hour.
I wanted her. God, I wanted her. But she didn’t remember me.
And then I felt something.
Like a breath.
When I looked up toward the glass door… I saw her.
Leaning against the frame. Braided. In black. Wild. Stunning. Whole.
And I exploded.
“FUCKING HELL, HOPE!”
My voice echoed through the villa. I had shouted.
Footsteps. Matteo, Lorenzo. Doors slamming. They were already coming.
But she didn’t even look at them.
She looked at me.
And whispered:
“Shut up. And follow me.”
She took my hand. Like it was obvious. And dragged me, sure and fierce, toward the stairs. Toward our room.
And I was nothing more than a man possessed.
I dragged him upstairs, his fist tight in mine. His muscles felt like coiled cables. His breath ragged.
I pulled him into the bedroom. Closed the door behind us.
And looked at him. Face to face. Straight in the eyes.
“You gonna stand there staring like an idiot or are you going to come take me?”
He growled. Like an animal.
“You’re kidding me?”
“No. But if you want to get angry… do it inside me. Now.”
He grabbed me.
He pinned my back against the wall. My legs wrapped around him without him even asking.
I kissed him. Not tenderly. Not softly. With everything I had. My fear. My rage. My love.
His lips. His breath. His taste. God, his taste.
My heart was pounding harder than my hips.
He dropped me on the bed without delicacy.
“You vanished. Two fucking months. Two months thinking you were dead. Watching you empty of memories. And now you come back like a queen in boots and you want what? Sweetness?”
She smiled. Dark. Burning.
“No. I want you wild. Fuck me like I’m your life.”
He ripped open my jeans. No thought. My tank top too.
And him, still dressed.
I wanted to feel him. Scratch him. Provoke him again.
I reached out and tore open the button of his jeans.
He stared at me.
“You haven’t changed.”
“Neither have you, Romano.”
He flipped me over in one move. My face into the sheets. My arms pulled above my head. A hand on my neck.
I moaned. Loud.
“That’s what you want, huh? Me to make you scream?”
“I want… you to make me alive again.”
I took her. Hard. Unfiltered. Without pity.
And she screamed.
My name.
My fucking name. Like deliverance. Like prayer.
Her nails clawed the sheets. My breath against her neck. My hips in her.
I slowed. Then sped up. Then went deeper.
“Say it, Hope. Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours.”
“Say it better.”
“I’m… yours. Body, heart, soul. Take me back. Take everything.”
And then I lost it. Like her.
We collapsed together.
Back to life.
I didn’t need to think anymore.
I just wanted to feel.
And he gave it to me. Without words. Without promise. Just him. On fire.
He took me again. Hard. Fierce.
Every thrust made me tremble against the mattress.
His hands held me down.
His mouth on my neck. His short breath. His muffled growls.
“You want me to make you remember?”
“Yes…”
“Then remember this.”
He flipped me over like an impatient animal.
And took me again at a brutal angle. My legs high against his chest. My nails in his forearms.
I screamed. He loved it.
His fingers brushed my stomach. My throat. My face.
He touched everything. Took everything.
And I gave him everything.
Fuck… I’d forgotten how good it felt to be his.
She drove me insane.
Her moans. Her damp skin. The way she arched at every thrust.
But this wasn’t just sex.
It was a reconquest. A vow.
I wanted her body to imprint every memory.
Every kiss. Every scratch. Every cry.
I wanted her to know who I was, even without memory.
I kissed her everywhere. From her mouth to the inside of her thigh.
She writhed under me, eyes half-closed, breath ragged.
“Again,” she begged. “Take me again.”
So I did. Against the wall.
Against the door.
On the floor.
I didn’t want her thinking anymore. Just feeling.
And she felt. Every inch. Every whispered command at her ear. Every deep stroke that made her moan my name.
“Say it again.”
“Alessandro…”
“Tell me your body’s mine.”
“It’s yours.”