30 : the end of the fucking earth
song : worst of you - maisie peters
Vitale has led us to his personal lounge shortly after our encounter in the foyer. To say the lounge was ridiculously large would be an understatement. His lounge was three times the size of my already enormous bedroom back at home, and it was nothing short of jaw dropping.
There were two large couches placed strategically in the middle of the room, facing each other with a coffee table between that casually had a hand gun just happening to lay on it. The sight of it reminded me of the time I held Kyle's gun.
There were four poker tables on the left side of the room, all with ash trays placed among them; some were still partially filled with the ashes of whatever Vitale and his guests had smoked.
On the other side of the room there were four different arcade style games, and I was sure this was the side that Kyle spent most of his time. In fact, as I glanced to one of the screens, I noticed it had Kyle's name on the very top of the list of best scoring players.
We all took our seats, Alanna and I sitting on one couch as Vitale took a seat across from us on the opposing couch and Kyle plopped himself down on the floor to the side of the coffee table.
Vitale sat, his right arm rested across the back of the couch he occupied all by himself as he swirled a cup of scotch in his left hand. He had a look of concentration on his face as he stared at Alanna who had just explained the situation to him.
He'd yet to talk and to say its unnerving would be an understatement.
"So what exactly do you want from this?" He questioned, running his free hand down his jaw, propping his thumb under his chin as he scratched his facial hair.
"What do you mean?" She responded to his question with one of her own.
"I mean, do you want him dead or do you just want answers?"
"Dead?!" She shrieked, the look that passed her face was close to mortification. "I don't want him dead, you psychopath! I want to know why he lied to me and held a gun to my best friends head!"
"I want him dead." This time is was Kyle who spoke, who was currently sat on the floor between the two couches, lining up his Swedish fish on the table.
"It was just a suggestion," Vitale shrugged, completely disregarding Kyle's comment, leaning forward and placing his elbows onto his knees.
"A terrible suggestion," Alanna scoffed in response,
Vitale's dark eyes iced her over in one of his infamous glares.
"So what," he breathed, running a hand over his face in a tired manner, "do you want me to track him down and tie him up so you can get answers? I don't understand how exactly you plan for this to go."
She grinned, flashing her teeth to him.
"I don't either, that's why I'm here."
Vitale let out a frustrated sigh before leaning back against the couch, legs spread as he rested his hands on his thighs.
"I'll talk to my men and see if they have any ideas," he finally concluded, gnawing the inside of his lip as he stared at his glass of scotch that sat on the table.
Alanna nodded wordlessly and for a long moment it was silent in the lounge.
"Hey, Alanna," Kyle began, pushing himself up off of the floor and downing a handful of Swedish fish into his mouth. "Wanna see my rock collection?"
Both Alanna and I's brows drew together in pure confusion.
Alanna glanced at Vitale who I suddenly realized had been staring at me and a look of comprehension passed her face before she nodded rather rapidly and pushed herself away from the couch.
I tried to send her my best pleading eyes but she didn't turn back to glance at me so I just watched as the door to the lounge swung closed behind them and their chatter became increasingly more distant.
I sat, my legs in cross cross formation as I wished the couch would suck me up. I played with the fabric of the throw blanket that I had pulled over my lap during their conversation.
"How've you been, Raya?" Vitale's words send a surge of butterflies through my stomach but I nearly wanted to slap him silly.
"How've I been?" I scoffed without thinking about it first. When I glanced up to him and found his hardened expression, I figured I'd already made my bed so I mind as well lay in it. "I don't know, you just decided to ignore my entire existence for the past month, so you could say I'm fucking dandy."
My words caught in my throat and I could feel it becoming more and more difficult to talk, especially with his intense gaze on me.
"Are you upset with me?" His question had me chuckling humorlessly.
Instead of replying, I pushed myself up off of his ridiculously expensive couch and made a beeline for the closed door. My hand grazed the doorknob before Vitale gripped my wrist, pulling me to a stop.
"Don't walk out on me, Raya," he breathed, turning me to him and bringing one hand to my cheek as he brushed a few stray stands of hair away.
"Why? Last I knew Vitale Bianchi didn't chase tails anyway."
At my words, his jaw clenched tightly. The muscle ticked, and his dark eyes possessed more anger than I'd anticipated. I knew the comment was going to tick him off, but I didn't think to this extent.
"I don't." He admitted, his tone was harsh and his eyes were cruel but for some stupid reason as he dropped his hand from my face, disappointment fluttered.
"Then just let me go, you did it before, you can do it again." My words weren't bitter, and I didn't mean him any harm through them but as his face morphed back into his annoyed, passive expression and he stepped back from me, I wasn't convinced that I hadn't done that exactly.
He nodded faintly, and as the long moment of silence lingered between us; I was sure we were finished with the conversation at hand. So, with my heart in my throat and tired tears threatening to spill, I turned on my heel for the second time and gripped the door knob. Before I had the chance to twist it, I was once again pulled back but this time I was shoved against the closed door.
Before I even had a chance to react, Vitale's hand was cupping my cheek as he pressed his lips against my own. I didn't move for a moment too long, causing him to press his body further against mine in response. After a second of hesitation I said fuck it and lost my hands into his short, waywardly dark brown hair, tugging at the roots which earned a quiet groan from him.
Our lips worked together perfectly, sending a surge of anticipation through me. He broke away from my mouth, leaving open-mouthed kisses down my neck, behind my ear, across my collar bones and back up. My breaths were loud and labored as I rested my head back against the door behind me.
He captured my lips with his own for one final kiss, his hand wandering down to my hips and pulling me as close against his own body as he could manage. Finally, he tore away from me but kept his forehead against my own.
"I don't chase tails, I don't chase women, shit, I don't chase anyone," his breathing was labored, and I was about to tell him this isn't the most endearing thing to tell someone after kissing them so passionately, but he beat me to it. "But after this past month of living in pure fucking hell, I will chase you to the ends of this earth if that is what you fucking want."
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and they reunite once again!
Question of the day: What language do you wish you could speak?
I wish I spoke Spanish fluently. I only know bits and pieces.
Until next time, home skillets!
banner by: @kaylakeifer