16:

201 5 0
                                    

It's cold. Cold, dark and depressing. The silvery moon casts the forest in a mournful grey, silhouettes of tall trees swaying in the chilling breeze as if huddling for warmth like a desperate group of helpless people. The odd hoot of an owl echoes and breaks the eery silence, disrupting the rightful quietness wrongfully; then, stillness.

The icy breeze assaults my nostrils as if I'm inhaling ice, the aching breath of my lungs indicate that I should go inside and warm up, drink a steaming hot beverage whilst curled up in bed- but I can't. A restlessness assaults my limbs despite my mind being somewhat at rest. After talking with Topo I figured out a couple of issues in my life, opened up to
him about my present but not my past. Never my past. It's too painful like a deadly dagger which is embedded in my side, sometimes I forget and to numb, other times I'm shaking under my covers at two in the morning hoping for the memories to fade away. But they never do.

I hum a song under my breath as my shivering arms wrap around my slender body, the hoodie along with my jacket doing little to insulate me. The tremors that run through my body shakes me to the core, I can feel the tiredness settle into my eyes only I feel like I need to move. At least this all tells me I'm still alive.

Giving into my need I pull out my box of cigs and lighter, lighting up the fag before placing it to my awaiting lips as I put the various items in their rightful pockets. I inhale the nicotine and revel in the sudden calmness, my mind sharpening despite the tired state and my limbs no longer antsy. I exhale after a long drag and admire the tantalising smoke, swirling and twirling in the frosty night as if doing a devotional, deadly dance.

The opening of the door brings me back to my presence, the cloud dissipates and I whirl around in surprise only to realise that it's someone I'd prefer to avoid. The lonesome balcony, one of the few this mansion consists of is distant from the main building, away from all the chatter and liveliness this home brings. Only it's not my home, the unwelcoming feeling overcomes the luxurious hallways with expensive decor and exquisite facilities. Nobody wants me here, I don't want to be here. The unwanted atmosphere can bring down even the strongest of people because like Topo said: humans aren't meant to be alone.

Leone sighs as he sees me, his body swaying slightly as his usual composure disappears. His face is slackened and his eyes narrow as if trying to focus, hair disheveled and the strong odour of alcohol practically seeping from his pores. The small balcony does little to allow distance, his presence instantly disregards my defences and I'm left short of breath.

"You're... not supposed to be here," he points at me, swaying with the breeze before stumbling towards my direction. "You're supposed to be everywhere I'm not, but you find a way to be there. Even in my mind." He stumbles into the railing and pulls out a glass bottle from the inside of his suit jacket, allowing himself a long sip before letting out a content sigh. "What are you doing to me?"

"Nothing," I whisper haughtily, taking another long drag to calm my nerves. "I'm just having a fag."

"Exactly," he clicks his fingers and looks pointedly at me. "Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Zilch. Nada. For some reason you still manage to run around in my head like some sort of rabbit."

"Rabbit's hop, I don't hop."

"No but you chat," he scoffs. "A lot, a lot. When you were talking to Ashley earlier of what you were supposedly doing to me- I almost made it come true."

I blush beet red, "Don't you hate me? All you ever do is scold me and make me confused."

"You confused?" He laughs, only it's as cold as ice. "Think how I feel. The big bad gang leader going soft. No chance."

"You're going soft? It didn't feel like that after you humiliated me this morning. It fucking sucked, Leone."

"No what sucks is this. Whatever this is I don't know what to do, I always have a plan no matter what- but for some reason you throw all my principles out the window and make me want to take a risk."

"What are you suggesting?" I ask, taking one last drag from my cigarette before stomping it out on the floor.

He looks me dead in the eye, his hazel contradicting to my blue, his beautifully tan skin like a terracotta plane whilst his dark brown hair compliments his structured face perfectly. He is perfection. Sure, a drunken masterpiece but brilliance nevertheless.

He leans forward and I swear my heart skips a beat. He stares intently into my eyes as if searching for something, anything. He suddenly looks assured, he stares at my lips with a ravishing hunger that catches my breath and he takes a leap.

His lips connect to mine, rough against soft, fire against ice. An explosion of nerves tingle beneath my skin as we mould perfectly together, his larger hands tug me hips forward flush against him, the cold night air seems to sizzle as a warm feeling floods my chest and through my body. My mind blanks but at the same time I can't help but feel a sense of euphoria wash over me like a tidal wave.

He lets out a satisfying groan, the sexiest noise known to mankind however that just pulls me from my numb stage. I'm kidding Leone, he's kissing me— SHIT! I shove him away from me and hastily wipe my lips with the back of my arm, realisation hitting like a tonne of bricks.

He staggers backwards and trips over his feet, his entire body falling until his head smacks against the railing with a sickening crack. The bottle smashes against the ground as his entire form crumples, the small amount of coordination and fight in him dispersing. He doesn't move.

"Leone?" I ask hesitantly, although he doesn't reply. Panic blossoms in my chest like a black rose primarily made of thorns as the harsh realisation dawns on me: he's unconscious or dead.

I approach him slowly, carefully, worriedly, crouching down next to his corpse- no body- and inspecting his position. I place the back of my hand close to his nostrils and feel the slight breath repeatedly inhale and exhale. Letting out a sigh I realise what this looks like on my behalf and awkwardly stand back up, retracing my steps to the balcony door; I open it, internally say a little prayer before shutting the door close behind me.

ALESSANDRO: Book 3 of The De Luca Brothers Series [COMPLETED]Where stories live. Discover now