Suo Angelo

nine

THE TWO SAT DOWN at one of the unoccupied tables in Mary's cafe.  Giovanni couldn't seem to break eye contact with Genevieve: she was much too enchanting to look away from.  Although she thought the same, Genevieve began to feel nervous under his heavy gaze and turned towards the cash register where Mary helped customers all the while looking towards the two every few moments.  "Thank you for c-coming, Giovanni." Genevieve murmured while playing with her fingers feebly.

     Giovanni smiled as a set of chills raced down his spine at the sounds of his name falling from her lips.  Just staring at her made him regret ever consenting to take over his father's mafia and sleeping with a multitude of women.  It was weird for him to think that just a day or two ago, maybe even a month, he refused to keep women out of his bed despite his mother's chagrin.  He still didn't know what it was about Genevieve, but something in her eyes and her smell and even more her smile drew him in like a moth to a flame.  "I had to see you again."

     Genevieve smiled to herself, although small, and it still caused Giovanni's breath to escape him.  "Thank you a-again." She looked up briefly through her thick, inky lashes and stared him in the eyes.  His eyes were like melting chocolate, their depths like molten lava as she collapsed around him.  If she had been standing, she was sure that her knees would buckle.  How did she manage to attract his attention she didn't know, but she was eternally grateful.  "May I call y-you Gio, Giovanni?"

     She watched as he tensed up instantly after that question left her lips, or possibly once she uttered the sobriquet 'Gio.'  Genevieve felt nervous as she stumbled over her words; she tried to assure him that if he wasn't comfortable she didn't have to and she would leave if she crossed a line.  But he was so amazing, Genevieve couldn't bare the thought of him telling her to leave, or him abandoning her.  He laughed though, and her nerves were sent haywire.  Was he laughing at her?  Were her fears confirmed: was she truly a stupid, naive little girl that would never hold his attention or admiration?

     "My little Genevieve." He brought his calloused hand up and caressed her cheek achingly slow.  She released a breath and nuzzled into his touch gently, for his touch sent her heart alight as butterflies frolicked haphazardly in her stomach.  "Of course you can call me Gio, but to do that I'd like to know more about you first." 

     He was so bewitching, she could hardly breathe any longer.  She wondered why her anxiety didn't spike at his attention and caress?  He truly was different, and she loved that.  "L-like what?"  Genevieve was so incredibly nervous as she clamped her eyes shut.  She begged fate to allow them to connect and possibly become friends and then more.  She hoped he would not ever realize how weak she was.

     "What's your favorite color, or do you have pets?  Anything along those lines."  He couldn't believe what was occurring.  If any of his men, or Antonio, saw him here, they would nag him for the rest of his life.  How could he not want to know everything about her, though?

     She smiled animatedly before rambling off on her favorite things: her Petal, her grandfather, her best friend.  Everything that escaped her adorable pink and plush cupid's bow lips made Giovanni feel warm inside.  He remembered everything she said.  She didn't have any certain favorite colors, but she loved pastels and bright duckling yellows.  She never forgot to incorporate color into her day.  Giovanni desperately wanted this angel to accept him into her life.  Maybe with time she would fall in love with him.  He just prayed she'd never find out how much of a malevolent and destructive monster he truly was.

     "Y-your turn!" Genevieve squealed excitedly after rambling on about her obsession with the works of Vincent van Gogh and Claude Monet.  She realized that she might have been boring him, so she decided that if she shut her mouth she could learn something about him.