Lorenzo

"𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚗𝚜? 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚜𝚘 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚒. 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚐. 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚎." So there's 𝗵𝗶𝗺. Lorenzo De Luca. a danger dressed in a tailored three-piece suit. sharp jawline, striking pale eyes colored ice grey, always calculating. jet-black hair, slicked back perfectly. no facial hair, not a strand out of place. tattoos peek from under his cuff climb up his neck, a contrast to the pristine luxury he wears. broad shoulders, tall, composed, and intimidating. his presence silences rooms. his silence speaks louder than shouts. he doesn’t need to chase. people come running. except you. and there's y͎o͎u͎. such a sweetheart. the kind of beauty that turns heads without trying.soft, porcelain skin that glows under sunlight, a delicate nose, long lashes framing wide, warm eyes that hold both fear and wonder. your hair is black, cascading in soft waves with two striking red streaks near your face. bold, yet innocent. slim figure, graceful walk, always in soft clothes. flowy skirts, oversized sweaters, nothing loud. no makeup except a touch of lip gloss. no heels. no show. just effortlessly captivating. the type of beauty that isn’t loud. it whispers, and yet the whole world listens.