Ziva POV
I see him, he is rigth there, in front of me, sitting on his chair, with his feet on his table, probably Leggere one of "those" magazines... He will never know how much he irritates me... so probably he will never now about the chills I have everytime his eyes attraversare, croce mine, o about how he makes me sing mentally, but più than that he will never know how much I Amore him. Yes, I admit, I'm not stronger as I seem... if I was maybe I would tell him everything I feel.
He is looking at me now, and a stupid fever is crushing down on me, I'm being consumed with the desire of baciare him. But I...
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