𝐎𝐅 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐒

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬

a.c.
     I climb into the passenger seat, watching him intently.
     "I'm happy to see you," He admits, a smile on his lips.
I smile, closing the door behind me. He reaches to me, grabbing my hand. He intertwines our fingers together.
"How do you feel?" I ask. "You've stayed out of trouble, I hope?"
He nods, fumbling with our hands. He rubs his thumb over the joint of my own thumb.
"I'm feeling better. I get my stitches out in two weeks." He says. "Frasier's kept me off the streets for the past couple weeks so I can heal."
I completely forgot about Frasier and the others. It's only been two weeks since I last saw Devin but it feels likes it's been years.
     "That's good," I say. "I've thought of you every day since we last spoke."
     He smiles, looking out the windows. It's starting to rain, I can see the water droplets collecting on the windshield.
     "Who were you talking to on the phone earlier today? I heard something about the Pictish Beasts and the Red Kilts." He says.
     I sigh, twisting the ring on my thumb with nerves. He heard.
     "My brother. He's deployed to Europe right now. He's been investigating the Mafia's migration to New York City. He was reading up on a Scotland Mobster, Arthur Thompson. He said that the Pictish Beasts operates very similarly to Arthur's gang." I say.
His eyes narrow and he looks away, almost as if he's ashamed of something. As if he's ashamed of himself.
"Hey, what's wrong? Are you alright?" I ask, my fingers tracing his jawline.
He looks back at me, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"My father is one of the followers of Arthur Thompson. Hell, he's half the reason the mafia is here." He says.
     I raise an eyebrow, tilting my head. I don't think I met his father when I met everyone else.
     "Your father? I don't believe I got to meet your father last time. Was he there?" I ask.
     He shrugs, grabbing my hand on his jawline. His fingers are warm against mine. He holds my hand gently, so lightly that I almost can't even feel his hand on mine.
     "I doubt it. I haven't seen him since I was thirteen. He left me with Frasier when I was eight and came back once when I turned thirteen only to ask Frasier for money. He didn't even know it was my birthday." He says.
     I furrow my brows and sigh. He looks out the driver's side window, his eyes watching the rain hit small trees and create puddles on the road. The rain is growing heavier.
"I don't get along with my Father either. Hell, I don't even talk to him anymore. And that's my choice." I say.
He looks back at me, his eyebrows furrowed. I've never shared the details of my hatred for my father with anyone other than Leo and my Mother.
"What? Why?" He asks. "What could he have done that's worth forgetting him entirely?"
I exhale sharply, my throat tightening with anxiety.
"In Seventh Grade, my parents got a divorce. My Father took everything from my Mother. He took every last thing she had and then made her raise the kids. We were fine. But, three years ago, I found out that my Father was remarried and his wife was pregnant. He left me with my Mother to go find a new wife and have a new baby. And it stung. So, now, we don't talk." I say.
     His eyes are wide and he chews on a lip as he listens.
     "Shit." He states simply. "That's definitely worth not talking to your dad over."
     It's like I can breathe again being around him. I'm not afraid to tell the truth and I'm not afraid to tell the story of my life. He looks down at our hands, fingers still entangled.
     "What's on your mind?" I ask, allowing him to say his thoughts aloud now that I've said my own.
     He lifts his head, our eyes meeting. Some deep part of him is hidden behind those beautiful enticing eyes. A smile tugs at his lips.
"You really want to know what I'm thinking about?" He asks.
I nod. He looks down at my hands. They're wrapped in his hands.
"I'm thinking that I can't do this. I can't drag you into my world and risk hurting you. I won't. Not to you." He says.
He presses his teeth into his bottom lip, causing a split to appear beneath his pearly whites.
"Devin, no matter who I end up with, Mafia member or not, I'm going to get hurt." I say.
He looks down at me, a smile chewing away at those peach lips.
"You want to know what's really on my mind?" He asks, leaning in towards me. "Come with me and I'll show you."
     He pushes his door open, stepping outside. The rain hits us, cold and refreshing. We sit on the hood of his car.
     "How much I want to kiss you. I want to kiss you like no other man ever has. I want to prove to you how serious I am about you."
I smile, leaning towards him. His skin radiates a warmth that makes my skin feel like liquid, hot, and dripping off of my bones.
"I won't stop you. Go ahead. Take you shot." I say, granting him permission.
We sit on the hood of his car, looking at one another, drinking the other person in with our eyes.
"Okay," He states simply, his voice husky and raw.
His hands trace my jaw, coming together at my chin to lift me to his mouth. I can feel his heart rate in his fingertips. His lips spark against mine, soft and warm like I had previously imagined. Our eyes close and our lips move in unison. The motion escalates from a simple kiss to a comfortable make out. His tongue brushes against my teeth as if asking permission to explore. I allow it, letting him take over the kiss. My hands find their way into his hair, bunching it up with my fists, but not pulling it. We share the same air, yet, we're not exhausted. He removes his mouth from my own and I feel cold without him.
     "Was that enough for you?" He asks, an eyebrow raised.
     I smile, running a hand through my hair as I look at him.
     "I don't know. I might need another one just to be sure." I joke, smiling widely.
     He doesn't hesitate and wraps his arms around me. His hands are warm and sturdy, keeping me from collapsing in on myself. My legs shake and he sets me back down on the hood, allowing me to relax. Our lips, however, are still locked. He leans into me and we lean against the hood, learning more about each other.
     "Definitely," I say, running my hand through his hair.
     He laughs, taking my hand in his own. He presses his lips to my palm, bringing his hand to his chest.
     "Then, from here on out, you know the truth." He says.