__________
When you still can't feel the rhythm of your heart,
And you see your spirit fading in the dark
I'll be there
__________
'You are not getting a razor,' he had said. I pleaded: told him that I needed to not be an ape in a sports bra. I am a brown girl. We pride over our body hair. Yet, he refused...again. And now...
Well, Noah had said he would ask Antony for a solution, and this seems the worst one.
"Are you really asked to sit there and watch as I shave my armpits?" I ask the timid old lady named Helen sitting on the bed, looking at me through the open door of the bathroom.
"Yes, Miss Ajmera. Mr. Danes-" she tries to say softly, but I interrupt her.
"It's okay," I smile, a little embarrassed with the measure Antony took, "I hope you don't get disgusted because I haven't shaved in a long, long, long time."
"Of course not," she replies, smiling softly. I nod, washing the razor.
As I shave the hair off carefully, I think back at the three weeks post the white room, when Antony adored me every second he was with me, when Noah treated me like his best friend...when I felt loved.
At the same time, though...
The three weeks when Antony felt like he was hiding something. When Noah averted every high-school-related question I had. When I felt like a part of me was missing.
The thought makes me shiver, and I nick myself near my elbow. I hiss in pain, a small line of blood oozing through the foam.
I am suddenly thrust back to a night, my hands covered in blood, my breaths heavy and erratic. I stand in an unfamiliar room, my body quivering with anxiety. I feel a ghost-like embrace, "Shhh, baby," a vaguely familiar voice echoes in my ear, "We'll take care of it."
As memories try to break into my mind, I feel like I would explode. Who was that? Why was I covered in blood? Who would take care of what?
A sob breaks through, and I am suddenly pulled into someone's arms, "It's okay, kitten, You're fine," his deep voice echoes in my ear and I nodded, gasping for air. "That's it, come back to me," he whispers, kissing my temple.
"A-Antony?" I stutter, scrunching my eyes shut as I realize my surroundings. I am here: in a bathtub with the smallest cut ever.
And the prettiest man.
"Yes, kitten," he murmurs.
"I am naked," I answer, and he chuckles, letting go of me and I scamper back into the water, covering my breasts. "And you're wet," I answer, looking at the dark splotches of water on his buttoned-up shirt.
"It's fine," he says, waving me off.
"I'm sorr-"
"Don't apologize, Myra," he orders, unbuttoning his shirt.
"Okay," I murmur, looking down as his naked chest comes into view. He chuckles deeply, "Don't nick yourself again, or I'll have someone else shave you as well," he concludes, and I look up with my mouth agape.
"You wouldn't," I gasp, and he narrows his eyes at me.
"Try me, kitten."
I gulp at his seriousness, nodding unhesitantly, "I'll be careful," I reply, and he tips my chin upwards, his grip just tight enough.
"As long as you are with me, you will not be hurt. Not even by yourself," he says, making me smile.
"I trust that, Antony."
He nods, his expression softening, "You have an hour. I'll meet you downstairs."
*****
"That's..."
"Weird, Myra. It's weird," Noah replies, and I nod my head. He's the head of the mafia, it's enough that he wanted to and had the time to see me train...but, now-
-now he's the one who's gonna train me?!
"He doesn't think I'm good enough, and he trusts no one else to be that near you," he says softly, and we enter the gym. Antony is sitting on a bench with his phone in his hands, a frown etched on his face.
And he's wearing a tank and gym shorts, which is not distracting at all.
"The first rule, kitten. Fucking be on time," he exhales sharply.
"There are rules?" I whisper-shout near Noah's ear, making him shush me.
"Second," he pauses, walking towards me, "Don't whine. Believe me when I say I don't have time for you if you whine about what I make you do," he says, making me gulp.
He hates you.
He hates you so much.
"Wha- umm, did I do something wrong?" I stammer, looking down and fiddling with my fingers.
He curses under his breath, stepping towards me and holding my hands in his, making me flinch. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Amyra. I didn't think-"
"Oh, it's fine, I'm so-" I start to reply, but he cuts me off by hugging me.
Oh, he's so warm.
And safe.
"No, I'm sorry," he murmurs, suddenly stepping backward.
"Thank you for bringing her," he says, looking at Noah and he nods respectfully, leaving through the doors. "Stretch first?" he says, and I nod, shrugging off my jacket.
Author's Note:
Okay, you have the permission to find me and assassinate me for being so MIA for the last few weeks, but believe me when I say my life's gone to shit.
I had my exams (which I screwed up), I'm pretty sure I lost my best friend (which screwed me up), but I am finally at a stable-ish place now, I think.
Yeah.
Don't kill me; pity me. My life's pretty shit right now.
On the brighter side, though, we are almost at 25K in Before I Escape.
HOW SICK IS THAT?!
okay, that was my ghost, I don't use that millennial slang.
BUT.
HOW AWESOMELY, INCREDIBLY, COMPLETELY SICK IS THAT?!?!
Okay, hope you liked the update, I'll dance privately.
EDIT:
Well, turns out that fights don't break friendships and now I have my bestie back.
How the fuck does that work, again?
YOU ARE READING
ＨＩＳ ＡＦＴＥＲＧＬＯＷ - A Mafia Fiction
Romance"I'll going to have that attitude beaten right out of you, kitten," he seethes, pulling Amyra's body flush against his chest, "and then, you would be begging me for mercy," he whispers lowly. . . . "Antony?" Amyra asks in a questioning tone...
