A Flower Between the Thorns: A Mafia Romance [REWRITING]

Chapter 21: Heart Burn

'We've built it up to pull it down' - Seafret

Fleur's pov

I did leave the very first thing in the morning the next day, in a car with a driver of Fillip's, because I couldn't stand the idea of saying goodbye anymore. I left the house that I have called a prison for so long that my heart stopped believing it was and started thinking of it, ever so slightly, as home. I left the man I had thought of as the new daemon of my eternal hell, the reaper of my already dead soul, but along the way he had granted it back to me. I left another sister behind in search of my long-lost one, and it tormented me on the inside.

I left, but my heart had not. It wept as we passed the rushing, colourful landscapes. It bled into my chest. I wanted him again, his strong hands pulling me into him, and now the idea of leaving felt so stupid, so insignificant. How ironic? Now I only see the landscape as grey, and I am inevitably reminded with his eyes of the colour of the melancholic clouds in the bleak midwinter sky I had called it. I hated what it reminded me of—that day I was taken away. Right now, I hate what they did to me.

How can the heart be so cruel, its choices so out of aim, yet it hits just right? How can it be so off yet so on target? I would never understand, and I will never understand the pain. How can I put it into something rational when it was impossible to find anything redeeming about that man from the outside?

Yet he gave me back life in his few yet heartfelt smiles; he gave me so much less than I would have ever given him, and I still fell. For his little gestures that now make my heart ache. That laugh that is now a broken record playing in my head. For the sense of validation I got from him, no matter how small it was. He made me feel like nothing that happened in the last six years mattered. What mattered was just us; nothing else defined who we were with each other except our unyielding love.

Twisted in the grip of agony, I was. I was torn between a hundred contradicting feelings that coursed through my veins as I thought of his face. My tears grew heavy, and my heart bawled even harder. A pain-piercing pang hit my chest when I realised it was love. I've loved him for so long—too long—that it almost feels like a lifestyle now, and now the routine is getting plucked out of my life and I'm left lost. I'm trying to find the order again.

But was there ever order in love?
Was there ever something national about love?
Did it ever make sense?
The storm that was set off inside of me? The chaos that ensued and how it can never be tame and it was only my heart to blame.

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We reached my old cabin after Fillip had it cleaned—the one I haven't set foot in in six years, the one where I was taken from. It was the safest option until Fillip initiated my leave of country.

'To Italy, to England, anywhere Fleur, anywhere he won't think of searching for you in, anywhere but near me.'

Fillip's words ring in my ear, spoken with so much fear in his eyes; he was breaking, and all I could do was hug and kiss him. I wanted him to know that I wanted to be near him, but he had already decided, and in my moment of foolishness, I stopped fighting. I didn't try to stop him from sending me away; I didn't yell at him. I thanked him softly and left. I didn't shout at him, telling him I loved him; I too, on the inside, thought that we were doing the right thing.

However, right now, standing in the middle of the old cabin, the sun barely showing through from the dense forest and through my window, I missed the sun showing through the windows of his own room, and in turn, everything that came with that. How it illuminated his eyes and made him ultimately look more heavenly when he stood right in the path of the sun, like it was just made to make him look this good. I was wrong for leaving, but now I could do nothing but wait. Wait for him to get me the furthest away from him.

'Protecting me' The irony of it being the equivalent of destroying my heart, but now I can't do anything but wait and contemplate and think about every time he looked at me. Try to remember exactly when I fell in love with him. Although the wait was only killing me and the thoughts were making me bleed faster, that's all I did. I sat on the old, decaying orange couch, ignoring the room upstairs where me and my sister slept together. I sat staring at the fireplace with no wood or fire in it and thought of the fire burning my heart. I sat and reminisced.

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Fillip's POV

Fleur left this morning; she never came up by my office, although I supposed yesterday was our goodbye. I learned that she didn't go to Nina, Mia, Leo, or Christian either. Now her memory feels like a ghost. Unwanted. Unfamiliar at the beginning, but she haunted us for too long now that her departure felt unnatural.

I was being selfish; I told her it would be safer for her without me. I was the one who bid her goodbye like a lost person does to the stars at night in the desert, only she wouldn't be coming back tomorrow. I told her it would be safer for her without me, even though I would have gone through the fire, so what happened to Marie wouldn't happen to her.

This was supposed to be about her, but in truth, it was about me and only me. I couldn't bear the weight of love and the pain that comes with it again. I wasn't ready to fall in love, but I did anyway. I've loved her for so long now that when I realised it, I wasn't even surprised. But again, loving someone means fighting for them. I lost that fight for Marie, and with Fleur, I could not do that to her. She deserved more. She deserved someone ready to fight, but I was just tired.

How could I be surprised that I fell in love?

How could I? When every time I looked into her eyes, I was nothing short of captivatingly mesmerised that I was stopped in my place, as if her eyes were a pair of prison lights, searching for their criminal to stop in place. I was indeed the criminal—stoned by one look in her deathly eyes, for every time I looked in those eyes, I was killed over and over again by the sadness, the pain, and the suffering—and as much as she'd like to disagree, I was her prisoner all along, not her. She had me the moment I saw her frail frame in my office, but she wouldn't believe me.

That does not matter anymore, does it? It was destined for demise from the start. Regardless of the way it started or how it went, I knew how it would end anyway. We both did.

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A/N: I mean finally a chapter for this book right? It's been quite a long while guys, and I have only been loosing motivation as that time went by; but I hope I am back for good this time.

Thank you if you still support my book, don't forget to comment and vote if you do.

This chapter is also unedited so don't mind any spelling mistakes. Have a great day!!!!