The Under Boss's Ballerina [18+]

44

Vaguely I remember Angelo slipping in to the shower.

The warm spray of water wetting his clothes as he slid down with me, picking me up on his lap, rocking me back and forth until my tears stopped.

Until my breaths fall back to normal instead of gasps.

Taking his time the man used warm woolly towel to dry my body as well my hair  before draping a silk robe around me while I caught my expressionless face in the mirror.

Two very red eyes stare back at me. Cheeks puffed up from crying, head a swirl of unnamed emotions.

Angelo's eyes meet mine in the mirror briefly.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles dropping his head, placing a kiss on my shoulder, adjusting my robe, trying the string around my stomach.

"I shouldn't have snapped at you, at all." He adds.

"Are you?" I ask in a hushed tone.

"Sorry?" I add. "Are you?"

"I am baby." He whispers once again. "I am. I didn't realise- I suppose-"

"Don't snap at me, Angelo." I say. "I'm suffering the same loss as you. Nothing gives you the right to snap at me."

"Sí, tesoro. Mi dispiace." He sighs, his head dropping to my shoulder again, placing butterfly light kisses, travelling way upward to my neck.

(Yes, sweetheart. Forgive me/ I'm sorry)

"Angelo." I warn followed by a sigh, my hands gripping the edge of the sink slab.

"Sweetheart?" He asks lifting his face. Eyes meeting mine in the mirror. "What is it?"

I sigh. "I'm really cold."

Angelo flashes me one of this rare half smile shaking his head.

"Let's get you warmed up then." He says ushering me out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist only.

"Where are we?" I ask as the man urges for me to take a seat on the bed. Unquestionably I do so.

"Villa Agape." Angelo says. "Why?"

I frown as he pours me a cup of steaming tea handing it over before busying himself to look for some garments of his own.

"Blaire said she couldn't pronounce the spaghetti tortellini name so I thought-"

Angelo sighs. "If she can pronounce spaghetti tortellini she can undoubtedly say this. Mental that one-"

"You're being mean." I state taking a sip of the hot and sweet lemon tea.

Shaking his head he drops the towel from his hips proceeding to pull on a pair of grey silk pajama bottom.

"Must you be so discourteous toward her?" I ask once again not liking his ignorance toward Blaire.