To Love a Gangster

To Be on Thin Ice

Cheeks flushed with hues of deep pink and closed eyelashes wet with past tears still remained on your sleeping face as Shorter stood before you.

After you had fallen asleep, he felt the need to leave you be and rest peacefully at ease, not risking waking you while carrying you to bed.

The sight of you finally at peace, soundly cradled in a cluster of blankets and pillows on the couch brought him satisfaction, but yet a pang of heartache lingered in his chest.

Shorter himself was far from perfect. He too found himself guilty of crimes that were no less despicable than those of Arthur's.

However, no way in any means would he dare to bring harm to someone so vulnerable.

It was a horrendous feeling knowing that you had been Arthur's punching bag to both his violent hands and his words of uttermost poison, and then to be informed that your body has been used by countless men that you had never been acquainted with all as a sick form of punishment.

Though Shorter's hands have equivalently been stained red, his hands had done you healing. Calloused hands carefully crafted and scarred by taking the lives of others had held you as long as you bled your internal wounds.

It was ten till eleven. Ash had contacted Shorter earlier by phone at the brink of daylight, asking to meet with both him and the once, "significant other of Arthur." His interest in you had been heightened as soon as Shorter informed him of his company by you.

Your once be said boyfriend's biggest rival who gave him his scars sounded urgent behind nonchalant words on the other line, asking to see you as soon as possible.

What really had Shorter thinking was how Ash didn't go into any further detail as to why he needed to meet your acquaintance so badly, but he knew he could not let his best friend down for he knew no matter what his purpose is will always have a virtuous outcome.

With slow, cautious feet, Shorter approached you deliberately; careful to wake you with gentle shakes.

"Y/n," he hissed calmly. "Y/n, hey."

Awoken by a warm sensation, you cracked open your eyes to be greeted by his face grazing softly in the sun's morning glow in a genuine smile.

Memories of last night flashed before you. The buzzing, the ticking, the echos, the shards beneath your feet and past experiences that wept you void.

But then the gentle arms that kept you secure throughout it all, reassurances spoken in words you could never imagine, and the subtle gleam of his sunglasses that reminded you that he was always there. Always there waiting...

You managed a faint smile through your grogginess from the previous hours as you rose your head from the couch.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty," he greeted casually.

Hazy clouds of fatigue still filled your head until you were handed a cup of hot jasmine tea, letting its aroma awaken your senses.

"What time is it," you finally croaked with your voice still hoarse while taking a sip.

"It's almost eleven," Shorter replied nonchalantly. You let out a brief sigh, lost in your cluttered thoughts. "I've been meaning to tell you," you began, setting the cup down with a distinguished clink followed by a faint pause.

Shorter was already anticipating your upcoming topic as he nodded knowingly. "About last night," you continued, still too hung up in a daze for you to notice Shorter's non-verbal body language.

"I just wanted to apologize-"

"Don't," was the word spoken so firmly but yet so compassionately that snapped you out of your hinges. Your awakened gaze met his shades that were now beginning to gleam in a forming grin.