𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚠𝚘 ─ 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝
I had lost so many people in my life. Important people. People that could've shaped me or helped me become who I am. I was a daughter with no parents. A child with no family. It killed me to wonder what I would've done if anyone had gotten hurt last night.
I spent the whole day asleep and Christian kindly let me. He sat in the other room, typing away on his computer. Half of the afternoon I spent awake, thinking about my life if my parents had never died.
I didn't remember much of my childhood, but from what I could tell I was a happy girl. At least when my mother was around, and when I wasn't spending my days drowning in mountains of schoolwork.
My dad wasn't around much. It wasn't that he wasn't a caring father he just had a lot of work. All the time. When he came home we would bring me a gift and we would all go out to do something together, like go to a movie, and he'd even go to my dance recitals. I look back on times like that and wonder when it all went wrong. I wonder if those times were a lie, a show put up to make me believe false information about their happy marriage.
"Maria." I look up and Christian sets a plate down on the bedside table. I look over to see french toast with powered sugar and syrup drizzled over the top sitting there. A mug of what I assume as either coffee or tea was beside it. I really hope it was the latter because I really need something to calm me down.
The french toast though looked absolutely delicious.
I sit up from the bed and run a tired hand through my tangled hair. I can't bring myself to say anything as I pull the plate onto my lap, and take a quiet bite. I watch him as he looks uneasy, probably deciding if he should sit down or not to talk.
"You can sit, Christian." I say once I swallow, and he finally takes a seat in front of me. I know he's not the type to share feelings. I don't know if I should bring up the kiss or not.
"Are-" I stop for a second, "Are we going to talk about this?" I hear the crack in my voice and watch as he turns away from me. I want to know what's going on in his head. I need to know everything.
"I killed two people today." I whisper mostly to myself, reality settling in. I was afraid. Who was I? A killer? Two lives were gone. Their blood on my hands. I was just as bad as him. The man who killed my own mother. And Christian? He wasn't any better than I was.
My fork clatters against the plate as it falls from my grip.
"A-And, you're in the Italian Mafia..." My throat starts to close up, "I don't even know how many people you've killed." My hands lace through my hair, and I feel them start to tug. Christian turns back toward me and pulls my hands free.
"Stop for a second, Maria-"
"Stop?" My eyes widen, "I can't believe I was so distracted. I've only been thinking about myself, a-and I've been thinking about you and your family... but I killed people, Christian! What if they had families o-or..." I stand up, and the plate on my lap crashes loudly to the floor. It shatters into a million pieces.
"You're spiraling."
"No," I scoff, "I'm freaking out." I step over the mess and begin walking to the bathroom, "This is too much."
"What are you doing?" He follows me, but I pay no attention. I need to clean the mess. I need to do something. I need something to distract me from the tornado pounding in my head.
"I don't know." I reply finding a towel in the closet and some wipes from under the sink.
"I can always call someone to clean it for us." He grabs my arm, but I twist from his grip. I ignore him and start collecting the big shards on the towel.
"Ah shit." One of the sharp pieces cuts my hand slightly, and I roll my eyes. I was so goddamn predictable.
"Seriously? Come here." He crouched down, and takes my hand to see. I avoid eye contact.
"I just don't think I can do this." I sniff, my vision starting to blur from tears, "I killed people. Their lives taken from them... just like that." I snap my fingers, and he glances up from me.
"But it was either them or us, right?" He replies, but I shake my head.
"It shouldn't have been that way..." I wipe the tears from my face, "None of it should be this way." I look over at him. He leans forward and kisses my forehead then he stands, walking back into the bathroom. Completely void of emotion.
"Imagine a world where we met differently, Christian." Blood drips down my palm onto the floor, "Where your father isn't a mafia kingpin. Even where you aren't rich beyond reason." He comes back and presses a wet rag to my palm. His eyes are blank as he looks up at me. I see nothing.
"A world like that doesn't exist, love, no matter how much we want it to." He answers, "I didn't want this life, but I can't leave it. So I have to live with it." He shrugs slightly, "It's not like my sister could take over for my father."
"I wish it was different." I meet his gaze and hold it there, "I wish everything was different." I lean in closer to him, my eyes searching his then falling to his lips. Kiss me.
"I've learned not to wish for such silly things." He whispers so quietly, "Let's go to bed." The moment breaks, and he stands heading to the closet. I sigh, sitting back on the floor. I wanted to love him so badly.
Christian came back out in a pair of sweatpants instead of his sweater and jeans from before. He reaches for my hand and pulls me up, handing me a pair of silk pajamas.
Suddenly, a sinister side comes to me, and I smile. I'll get him back for not kissing me again. I hoped it would make him suffer.
Instead of going to change in the bathroom, I take my top off right in front of him. He freezes and stares at me with wide eyes. I smirk then hand him my discarded shirt. I unbutton my jeans then take those off too, handing those to him also, but I don't get dressed yet. I go to the bathroom and begin taking my makeup off first.
"You've got to be kidding me."
"Shouldn't have made me mad at you." I shrug as he follows me into the bathroom. I take a wipe and begin taking off my makeup, making sure to lean over the sink generously. So glad I was wearing matching lace panties today.
Just as I suspected, he couldn't keep his eyes off me.
I couldn't keep mine off him. He didn't have a shirt on making him a hell of a distraction. My eyes trailed over his tattoos in the mirror and down his torso. It was was like he was carved by the gods.
"How did I make you mad?" He asks me, and I laugh. I throw the wipe away, my makeup gone, and turn around facing him.
"Guess." I reply simply then step toward him. He leans back against the wall, averting his eyes from me. I bite my lip, smiling, then come closer to him. He crosses his arms. I run a hand down his shoulder then slide my hands up his chest and around his neck.
"Do you need a hint, Christian?" I whisper into his ear. He is tense under my touch and it makes me laugh softly. I kiss the spot beneath his jaw once then look back into his hazel eyes. He has great self control.
"Don't you want to touch me?" I ask him, giving him a fake pout as I cocked my head to the side. He doesn't answer, so I sigh then lean in again to kiss him on his jaw this time. He does nothing again, and I smile.
"Christian," I taunt him, "Kiss me." I whisper, pulling him toward me. He was so close I could feel his breath on my lips, but he made no effort to meet mine with his.
"Next time," He whispers to me, "Don't tease me." Christian pulls away from my grasp and leaves the bathroom. I smile. He really loved playing hard to get.