The Blossom of Rose

37 • Impulsive

♚ Luca ♚

I had thought that after I admitted I'd fallen for her that this fucking war inside me would calm down because I've stopped fighting it. But it's like everything is drunk.

From her. Her smell, her laugh, her smile, her touch. Her.

They long for the moments I'm with her and I can't wait to come home every day. I've been cutting my days short because of the urgency I have to constantly be around her.

She's fucked with my head bad. And this is why I was so against love.

I need my head clear. I have enemies, I have an empire to run, I have things to take care of but, fuck, none of that amounts to the love I have for her. And it's fucking dangerous.

"I'm sorry we're having a boy," she says, her head resting on my wild heart, "I know you wanted a girl and I hope this doesn't change anything between us."

I run my fingers through her copper hair, keeping from clenching my fists, "as long as you're happy, Rosa, that's all I truly care for."

That's all I ever want to see her. Happy. Because when she's happy, she's at her most beautiful and her happiness illuminates the darkest parts of me.

She shifts and sits up so she's directly facing me with a frown on her plump lips, "but, you don't want a son."

"I only said that because I don't want him to turn out like me," I reach my hand out to cup her cheek staring into the pools of her solemn, green eyes, "every part of you is perfect and even though he may inherit that, he'll still have the worst parts of me."

Her emerald eyes have a distant look in them as she casts them down to her lap, her hair covering her. I slide my hand to the back of her head and part her hair, braiding it again. I have many favourite things about her but her hair, tops that all. It's soft, silky and that perfect shade of copper is my favourite colour. Not the colour of blood, as she assumed.

Rosa's frown deepens and she stares at me earnestly, "you're not a bad person, Luca."

"Tell that to all the fucking grieving families," I mumble, fixating my eyes on the twists in her hair. Her silence fills the room and when I tie the end of her braid she turns to me.

"I promise, you're not. I've seen parts of you that no one ever has. The good parts," she places her hand on my heart and it accelerates like it's on an empty highway, "I know there are more good parts of you in there somewhere. You've just buried them."

Why is her heart so pure?

I'm probably the worst person to have walked this planet in a while and she sees the good in me.

"You're a beautiful person, my boy. All the best parts of me and your father are in you. Please, don't ever lose that."

"The biggest enemy you'll ever have is greed. Don't let it play you, my son. Because you might have all the power and wealth, but you'll be more miserable than a drifter with a dime."

I'm sorry, mom. I'm so sorry, dad.

I failed you. So fucking bad.

"Hey," her timid voice smashes through my thoughts, "what's wrong?"

She's frowning again and I want so bad to see the grace of her smile on her lips but there's something in me that wants to tell her this. She probably thinks I was born a monster, going around taking the lives of people emotionlessly.

"I wasn't always like this," my head hangs low as a weight settles in my rapidly-beating chest.

I sense her waves of hesitation before she swallows that down and timidly rests her hand over my clenched fist, "no one ever is."