Roses And Guns

My Own True Love

This starts with a simple Alessia POV but then takes a DIP into Aidan's POV and 

trigger warning, 

he is having an anxiety attack while doing all that he's doing, don't worry, my boy is fine, just needs a Lil help. I was sick and tired of all women in mafia-esk stories having full-on breakdowns, which isn't the problem, it's the lack of men showing emotions that's the issue. So here's a man, which isn't fine and needs help. YEah, they exist, despite all the Xaviers you've read, yea, men cry. Onto the story oioi

The flight was long, given the fact that I had to threaten to kill 12 people and ask 3 to surrender their assets. What can I say? They tried to fuck ME over.

As soon as I was let off that flight, I thought of running to my house, Allan caught me though. Little sneaky bitch. He took me to the mansion himself, I hadn't been back here for a couple of years, which made me sort of sad. No one lived in my house anymore, other than my parents, my dad was often on trips, and more often than not, my mom would go with him, as they said, 'retirement is the best time of a parents' life. They enjoyed their time, travelling around the globe, but had security at the mansion. All securities were given clearance for Aidan, Allan, my immediate team members, and Elijah.

Soon we were entering the premises, a couple of people looked fondly at me, they were my extended family, they had looked out for me ever since I could walk. Some of them were as protective as dad and Allan. Walking into the mansion, I wasn't taking anything in, just skimming over everything, looking for him. Any signs of Aidan.

"The treehouse, he must be there, go. Make him come down too, or not, the kid's kinda dense right now"

I gave Allan a stink eye and left for the backyard. I saw the treehouse and immediately memories of our time from school started flashing in my head. Oh, how insane it was, that I never really did anything in the treehouse in my past life. It was so- homelike.

Entering the house, felt surreal. Before anything, the unmistakable smell of alcohol eroded my senses. It felt hot, and not in a nice way, just- gloomy.

"Aidan?" Once,

"Aidan?" Twice

"Buachaill álainn?" (Pretty boy)

I called out lovingly and heard a groan from the other side of the bed. He was lying on the ground, in a foetal position, his watch to the side of his body, what scared me was the blade near his hand. The conspicuous inkling of attempted suicide.

Allan's POV

I've been here for around a day now. I don't understand anything, the mafia? The fucking mafia? And my dad owned the mafia? He ran away and I am the rightful-

The words jumbled in my head, it was not making sense. Even if I did own the mafia, or rather, my dad did, why would he hide it from me, only me?

When I was in business school in Italy, I got diagnosed with mediocre GAD (Generalised Anxiety disorder) which gave me occasional anxiety attacks. Nothing a couple of pills couldn't help with. I chose to ignore my anxiety for the longest time, and with everything- meeting Alessia, her almost dying, in the hospital, she looked so- fragile. I know she isn't, she could probably kick my ass while being bound, I couldn't get the image of her lifeless- almost lifeless body on that road. I couldn't lose her, not when she promised. Well, what are promises?

She promised she wouldn't leave me, and she did, she stopped talking when I couldn't talk to her out of fear, she gave up on me. Elijah was on the verge of giving up, and my father. Granted we were like one big family, Alessia's family and mine, but he chose to trust Alessia over his blood. It's not about Alessia, it's about how he views me,