Facing Reality

19)"Anyway, I didn't throw you out the window,"

Short Chapter (A filler) 

Thalia POV:

"You know I knew we were going out the window, but did you have to toss me out?" I ask, clutching my leg as one of Sandros' on-the-go Mafia doctors stitches it up. 

We arrived at the hotel after jumping out the window, rolling on the ground, and running in the car with Alfonso behind the wheel. 

Sandro landed flawlessly, whilst I went rolling. I felt envious because he appeared cool while I appeared to be a diesel in distress. 

Now that we've made it back, I was whining because glass had entered my leg, although Sandro was sitting perfectly fine with no cuts. 

"Which part of 'We're going out the fucking window,' did you miss?" He inquires, his brow furrowed. 

"I understood that jackass," I say, "but you practically threw my small ass out of it and used me as your fucking mat," I groan as the doctor pokes me with the needle. 

“Watch what the hell you're doing,” Sandro says, staring at the unfortunate doctor, and I smack his chest, causing him to hold it and stare at me, surprised. 

“Leave him alone” 

"Sorry," the doctor replies, and I wave him off, telling him everything is fine. I'm getting used to getting hurt. 

"Anyway, I didn't throw you out the window," he replies, rolling his eyes. I scoff.

"Yeah, well the stitches on my leg suggest otherwise," I retort sarcastically. 

The doctor warns me not to move my leg too much and get up to leave, gathering his belongings. When he's finished, he bows to Sandro and walks away. 

"Love, you're being dramatic. It isn't even that deep "he says this as he walks over to me. I observe as he bends down and raises my leg. 

"What are you doing?" I ask, watching as he kisses the spot where my leg was just stitched. 

"I'm kissing it so you're not mad with me anymore," he replies, looking up at me. 

"I won't be mad anymore if you kiss me on the lips," I joked, pointing to it. 

"Okay," he says, lifting up and kissing me on the lips before going back. I stared at him, wide-eyed. 

“I was joking” 

"I wasn't," he says as I look at him. "I'm taking you out on a date." 

This is our second kiss, and I'm already melting. He has me like this after only a brief kiss. 

"Huh?" I realized I was just staring at him, not hearing what he had just said. 

"I'm taking you on a date tomorrow," he says emphatically as he takes a seat next to me. I turn to face him. 

"You seem to be telling me rather than asking me. Ask me properly, and I'll check if I’m busy or not." I respond with raised brows. 

He glances at me to see whether I'm serious, and he sighs when he sees that I am. "Can I take you out on a date tomorrow?" 

"Hmm, let me think about it." I tap my chin, then grin at him and tap his leg, "I'll have to get back to you on that one," I say, getting up to limp away until he grabs my wrist. 

"Thalia," he murmurs, and I return my gaze to see him pouting. 

"What?" I ask. 

"Could you please go on a date with me tomorrow?" He says still pouting, and I couldn't help but die on the inside from his cuteness. 

This mafia boss whom everyone fears wants to go on a date with me. Me. Of all people, he's pleading with me. 

For once, I feel special. 

"Fine," I respond, pretending to be annoyed, "I'll go on a date with you tomorrow because you're so desperate for my attention," and he pulls me to sit on his lap. 

Turning to face me, he smiles and kisses my cheek before saying, "Be ready by 11." He squeezes my waist, causing me to squirm, and stands up to go to his side of the hotel room. 

Because it's a suite or a property Sandro rented. I don't care what it is, but it has two rooms, one on the left and one on the right. It features a central living room with gorgeous blue ottomans, a kitchen, and an exquisite, patterned door that goes to the balcony. 

As I watch his form walk away, I smile. "Damn, that ass looked good," I exclaim. I want to slap his ass. 

He'll probably think it's strange or unmanly, but I don't care. It's not my fault he has a nice ass. If he lets me, I'll smack it. 

I sigh as I gaze out the open window. I'm expected to be in San Francisco in two days, or less. 

I'm not sure if what my mum has to say is important. I'm just curious where I fit into all of this. Or if my parents aren't exactly who they claim to be. 

Because I am certain that I am somehow involved in all of this. 

I'm also afraid of going back; I didn't tell Mirabella we were returning to that horrible place. I don't want her to have to relive any traumatic moments. 

It's not fair to her. 

What if Ava and Chris discover us while we're there? Will Sandro be able to protect me? 

What if they hurt my mother? I wouldn't know what to do. 

I'm sure I wouldn't let them escape alive. I wouldn't want them to ruin someone else's life. 

I sigh and sit back on the couch. I start becoming anxious when I tilt my head to the side and see something flicker in the bushes. 

Perhaps I'm reading too much into this. I'm constantly overthinking, which makes everything worse. 

My brain does not sleep well at night, which is caused by my overthinking mind. 

I got up, groaning, because I truly caught a Charley horse in my leg this time. 

"Fuck," I grunted, clutching my non-stitched leg. I groan when I try to relieve the pain, but it only makes it worse. 

"Damnit," I yell as I bump my toe on the corner of the wall as I step inside my room. In anguish, I'm now hopping on my stitched-up leg. 

"Why me, God?" I cry as I sit on the floor of my room, clutching my hurting toe. 

"You just pick and choose." Looking up at the ceiling, I say. 

Author Note:

Thalia and Sandro seems to be getting close, let's see how long that lasts

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