Neco & Fatoș - Love and War (One Shots)

Raw With Love (First kiss)

No one prepared Neco for the storm.

He spent the last few days and nights with his grandfather. He barely got the time to eat or sleep. The process of truly learning how the family business works made him forget about the world.

He needed a bath, some real food, and clothes. He was tired of wearing his dirty leather jacket...

He was tired of everything. He wanted to sleep and just breathe for a moment.

He became more and more obsessed with these things over the years: small things, details. He acts like what people call these days a control freak in some situations and he's unable to stop the repetitive thoughts he has. So he tries to distract himself... because when he thinks about something or someone, he does it for hours. He can't control it in any way. His feelings are so deep and overwhelming that they have the power over him. They cloud his judgment.

His sarcasm and his arrogance make him who he is, too. He was born in a family that encouraged him not to care about others, not to feel too much. He's never really had any kind of emotional support, so he has no idea what to do with these emotions... how to show them differently or how to make them disappear, so he finds himself trying to bury them.

The water has always calmed him down, but today, it only agitates him more. He spends ten minutes washing and dressing, counting again and again just to stop thinking about everything.

When he finishes, he looks around one more time, then gets out.

The bedroom is empty... too empty and strange without Fatoș, or their fights, or her clothes. In the past few days, when he was absent, she managed to get her clothes back to her house.

And now, it feels like she was never here. Like she is not his wife. Like she is not the only person he thinks about all the time.

It doesn't smell like her anymore.

The house is empty, too. His mom isn't here and his sister is still too stubborn to come home. She refuses to leave Ramo.

He closes the front door with his left hand, then stands there, taking a deep breath. Absorbing.

He enjoys silence, of course, he does... but not like this. His mind is a mess. His life is a mess. And this silence? It's fake.

He knows he has to go through a storm to get some peace.

And there is the storm in the flesh - Fatoș.

He quickly checks out his clothes: the suit is clean and smells fresh, his hair -perfectly brushed, slicked back- and he even corrects his posture. He stands straight, looking even taller.

Fatoș gets out of the black car completely, thanking Hasan with a head gesture and a small smile, then starts walking towards the house. Her curly, brown hair is down and as wild as always. She's wearing a black T-shirt and a simple pair of faded blue jeans, with no make-up except for an almost non-existent lipstick... and she looks like a goddess.

Fatoș.

He suddenly feels so small in front of his house. His heart is about to explode as he watches her coming his way, but he doesn't show it just yet. He tries to fake a confident look.

He waves for the others to leave them quickly alone without even looking.

Fatoș. Fatoș. Fatoș.

The girl who's carrying a child, just how her name predicted. A child that might not be his in the real sense, but a baby he will love, and protect, and provide for because he is a part of her. And he's pure.