Mafia Deep Love

Vivica

At first, I didn't notice him. He was breathtaking, of course, and had the face of someone who was sculpted by God's most precious Angels. Cheek hollow, grey spiralling eyes, knife-sharp jawline, and thick, beautiful eyelashes made me wish I could have even just a small ounce of what he has.

If it weren't for my God-awful sobbing, my moans of pain, and my absolutely wrenching heart, I would have noticed him a few seconds before. He always had loud feet, it was something I remembered from when I was a kid. He was so clumsy, and he's passed it on to me.

The pain that overwhelmed me that night was something I had never thought I'd go through ever in my life. The loss of a loved one was hard, although he wasn't dead just yet. My ex-boyfriend, Daniel, had broken up with me after a complete year of being in my life. Some would say it was for the good, but I'd argue differently. He was so cold in those last moments, which ultimately hurt me the most. I hadn't cared too much about him thinking that we needed space, but his words and actions made me feel as if my entire life were the biggest facade.

It's hard being a man with someone like you. I have needs, and obviously, the person who's supposed to fulfil them isn't fulfilling them even after this long.

His harsh tone threw a dagger right into my heart. He wrapped his hand around the grip and made sure to twist it. I thought I'd spend the rest of my days with him. We had our lives planned together.

Although his grey eyes had swarmed me like a bunch of angry bees, I tried to conceal the fact that my mascara was running down my cheeks due to the thick tears that brimmed my eyes.

I inhaled, trying my hardest to fight asphyxiation as I held in a sob that fought its hardest to release from my body. My throat began to close, which ultimately led me to just let it out. I was utterly embarrassed at the fact that he had caught me crying, even though I'm sure he heard me from the other guest bedroom.

Swiping my hand across my face to collect the smearing mascara, I couldn't fathom looking at him again. I knew that those grey eyes would call me out on my shit and probably make a joke about it. So I looked down at the sad tub of molten ice cream sitting between my legs. The chunks of Oreo were drowning inside of what is now milk.

He made no sudden move, probably staring me down. I made no sudden move, wishing that I could just die. The tension was too awkward, why was he the one to catch me crying? Why did my father drag me to this stupid annual trip with his good friend, Oliva? And did it just have to be the same day as my graduation?

I swallowed down the dryness in my throat as I heard his feet begin to move. Then, the refrigerator opened before snapping closed again. He was shaking something, a liquid, as he walked closer to me.

Wait, to me? He never even talked to me his entire life.

My eyes blink repeatedly as my mind tries to process what's happening at this very moment. I lift my head, letting my eyes fall lax against him for the first time all night. He's wearing only dark pyjama pants that hang low on his waist. He's naked on the chest, with only a few numbers in Roman numerals under his right peck. There is a single silver necklace wrapped around his neck that should be engraved onto his skin by how long he's had it.

He is scowling already, ready to chew me up and spit me out for probably interrupting his beauty sleep. I'm sure a guy like him gets all that he can.

He steadily walks to me and stops right beside the brown centrepiece between the couch I'm sitting against and the sixty-five-inch television mounted against the wall.