A Couple Of Jeffmads Oneshots

Chapter 15

TW: SUICIDE

Mafia AU

James's POV

I live in a city pretty much ruled by the Mafia. I joined in hopes of protecting my family. Little did I know, once you're in, you can't come out.

But that was okay, because little did I know that the leader of the Mafia would turn out to be the love of my life.

I first met him after finishing a job. I was immediately infatuated with him. He was the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

I felt guilty at first. This man was the leader of the Mafia! But it seemed he returned my feelings.

He called me in personally, and it exploded from there. We were in love. Hopelessly, desperately in love.

I was his calm side, his voice of reason. I was the reason half the city wasn't killed.

I still remember, crystal clear, the night it happened.

We were sitting in a chair at the Mafia headquarters. I was sitting on his lap. He was kissing my neck and face, calling me sweet pet names like honey and dear-heart.

All of a sudden he pulled out a black box and got on his knees. He opened the box and asked me to marry him.

Obviously I said yes. He slipped on the ring and kissed me.

I was giddy with happiness. I was on cloud nine! My life was going to be perfect!

All of a sudden, someone ran in and starting screaming. Something about someone finding us?

Thomas grabbed my wrist and pulled me into another room.

He explained that the police had found us, and that they wouldn't recognize me, but they would recognize him.

He could save me by tying me up and making it looked like I was kidnapped. I wouldn't have to face charges or be at a risk of being shot.

I agreed, and he started tying me up.

The last thing he said was, "I'll see you again babe, I promise."

He then kissed my forehead and dissapeared.

That was the last time I saw him.

The police eventually found me. I lied and said I was kidnapped, just as Thomas had said.

After I got out, I checked the newspaper.

They had fatally shot Thomas five times, three in the head, two in the heart. He was dead.

My beautiful, beautiful, Thomas was dead.

I remember the funeral like yesterday. Only me and one other person, presumably a family member, came. I cried for hours at his grave.

I only take the ring he gave me off to shower and sleep.

It has been three years since Thomas died, and I can't take it anymore. I stand here now with a gun to my head, writing this note, waiting to be reunited with him, wherever he is.

Sincerely,
James Madison

Was it good? Did you cry? It's my first time writing angst. I think I need a hug.