He's King of New York, but you know him as just Ari. The man who makes your palms sweat and your heart race, not because he's dangerous, or scary, but because you're head over heels for this mafia man.
What could go wrong?
Mine Always - Mafia Ari...
Summary: You can't stop thinking about the handsome stranger you met and little do you know he won't stop until your his.
Warnings: flip flop POVs, mentions of being oblivious, Ari being a handsome manchild, mentions of being indecisive.
Takes Place: April 2016 — a few days after One Rainy Day in New York 🌧️
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April 2016
~ Y/n ~
"Bye, angel eyes."
His words and his voice are like a lovely broken record in my head. It's been a few days since Ari walked into the store.
It's also been days of constantly thinking about him...
I can't stop thinking about the way his eyes sparkle, or this strong mysteriousness he carries, or the way he seems like he's a scary guy but in reality it's all the opposite.
I've been going over in my head why the heck I didn't ask for his number. I'm not getting any younger, I need to put myself out there.
Even if I land in the arms of a mysterious, tattoed, hot stranger.
I keep finding myself back in that night, there's so many questions I have. Especially about my feelings towards him. I kid not, within the hour of knowing him, I felt like I was talking to someone I've known my whole life.
Is this normal? Is it natural?!
My head is bigger than a balloon with all these questions overlapping one another, and the big question of what does Ari even do that he has a personal chauffeur and a security guard...is taking up the most room.
Because yes, as I reminisce the end of that shift that started off like any other—I realize that the sketchy friend wasn't a friend, all he's actions lead to a body guard.
And the car they dropped me off here at my apartment, wasn't an Uber.
Nor conducted by an Uber driver, no, it was a personal chauffeur.
"Y/n!" Nancy shouts at me, and roughly pulls me out of my deep thoughts.
Ever since I was a kid I have that habit, taking one event and blowing it completely out of proportion, adding random questions, and analyzing scenarios like it were topping to a dish.
Clearing my throat, I look at my roommate, and notice her boyfriend was also staring at me, "you soaked the floor, babe."
Nancy addresses the current crisis that was occurring right below my feet.
Every morning when I wake check my plants, and if it's watering day...I grab the can and hydrate them.
Maybe I overhydrated the one I am standing beside, the puddle of water inches closer and closer until the bottom of both of my feet are soaked.
