I didn’t even realize it until then that I was holding him to me when my knuckles protested where I clutched fistfuls of his shirt on either side of me.

“Who… Who are you?” I asked dazedly. leaned down over her, pressing my “Dominick…” 
The name came out like he had always owned it; like there was nobody anywhere on the surface of the planet who was called by that name.
“Dominick…” I repeated.

 

  My name is Dilia Nambiro and I love the written word.

  That’s it.

That was all I would say when anyone would ask me to tell them about myself.

  I went nowhere and I did nothing and I knew very few people and I was good – with – that.

 

  That was until I met a boy in a library with the most spectacular eyes.

He never spoke to me and I could barely remember how he looked like.

But I had never forgotten his eyes.

 

For years, he would remain an enigma to me.

Shimmering along the periphery of my memory, never truly showing himself to me.

  Until the day that he did.

Dominick.

  The world around me started to shift.

  And suddenly, I was well and truly aware…