Loving The Mafia ✅

19. "We're not that serious."

CRISTIANO

I like that Harlow and I have a practical and casual relationship. Nothing heart attack serious. We have our moments here and there but overall, totally casual.

It wouldn't make any sense for her to love me. I haven't done anything worth loving. And I definitely don't love her. If I did, I'd be dying, and I'm pretty sure 20% of my blood hasn't turned to poison therefore, no love or excessive amount of happiness here.

The thing is, Harlow does make me happy. Really happy. Happier than I've ever been. And that's why I'm just now trying to find a cure. Because I fear that I just may actually fall in love with her, as crazy as and impossible as that sounds. It may be casual, but she makes it feel like it's a lot more than that.

Being with Harlow, I've found out that I'm actually seriously afraid of something. I'm afraid of Harlow. As wussy as this sounds, I'm afraid of loving her, losing her, making her feel anything but happiness. She's definitely changed me. And that's already a miracle.

She was in the bathroom with the door open, braiding her freshly showered wet hair. She was wearing my white t-shirt that stopped right below her butt. Whenever she would raise her arms above her head, the shirt would ride up past her hip and you would be able to see her wearing a pair of lace panties from her Victoria's Secret bra and panties obsession collection. Along with her tattoo, 'Love me with Pain'.

She glanced at me, noticing my staring at her. "You are so creepy."

I chuckled. "Why is that?"

"Because you're just staring at me and not saying anything."

"Says the girl that was creepily watching me drink water an hour ago. Yeah, I noticed." I crossed my arms, amused by how much she was blushing.

"I was not. I was admiring how clear the water was."

I laughed. "Yeah, right. And I wasn't staring at you, I was just admiring how white the shirt is."

"Yeah, but when I was, what you call 'watching you', I did say something. A question, to be precise."

"I know and I answered it. The answer was yes."

"But you said to wait." She took her braids a loose, muttering about how she messed up, shook them out and ran her hands through her hair. Damn, that was sexy.

"No, I said for you to think about it, and we'd talk about it later." I said, a little exasperated. I've never had to think or deal with anything like this. The only reason I say this is because whenever we have 'very intense make out sessions', she holds back when I want more, or she hesitates. And I'm guessing this is why.

She ran hand through her hair once more. "I'm starting to think you just don't wanna have sex with me." Her voice broke. Shit, was she crying?

I quickly got up and went towards her, cupping her face in my hands. "Harlow I didn't say that! I just want you to think about it. Of course I--" I stopped because she started giggling. No way. "You're faking it."

"Yup. I was kidding. I know how much you desperately want it." She emphasized 'desperately'.

"I wouldn't say desperately, more like 'really'." My words make her laugh and she pecked my lips before going to sit on the bed. I almost groaned out loud in frustration from wanting more than a simple peck.