Manners with the Devil

51

G I A V A N N A          A M A T O

Displeased, I snapped the gun aside from his forehead, moving the muzzle under his chin, and lifting his face towards mine. In addition to his muscles tightening in alarm again. 

He remained on the glass chair with my frame imposing over his shadow, the guards still settled in a flock around us both. 

"Take the mask off," I clear the minute silence with the control in my voice, "Because you know I could easily take it off myself by using the trigger labelled on my gun." 

With his neck stretched upwards by the pressure of my gun, and his chin practically pointed to the ceiling, he managed to mumble a response back, "I couldn't and wouldn't take my mask off. It is not your order to make. It is not my order to make."

Unamused, my fingers tense more around the grip, pushing it harder against his chin. With that action, his dark pupils shifted downwards trying to look upon the metal that pierced his bare skin for another time. Once I pushed it further in, his voice changed back to how it displayed before, needing mercy. "Giavanna- please-" he exhaled sharply, "Let us talk, that is what you are here for, right?" 

"I'd love to talk with you." I pause my sentence, smirking at the pained look inside their eyes, "But I've already told you that that mask is needed to be removed. And to my knowledge, it is not difficult at all to take off a piece of a one-dollar material. Is it?" I waited for a movement from his body, however, I never received such a thing. "So, will you take the damn thing off and not waste anymore of my time?" by the last sentence that I spoke, my gun had repeated itself by cutting through his flesh, dripping out the ruby liquid which then drizzled down his neck. 

"Stop it," he murmured, shaking his head with little motion, his pupils still looking down. 

"Well then, take the mask off." the muzzle got removed from the contact of his skin, but I still had the gun remained in the air, pointing directly to his forehead.
He never moved. Only his eyes did, as they quickly scanned over the guards that were all standing around us, checking if they were all hung by his side. and not switching to mine. 

why wouldn't they switch to serve me? I think we all know who has had the upper hand for the most lengths of our chat.

His eyes flicked back to my direction, not to me. 

"Now or never." I followed the use of his words to my lips. And with that, he slowly took both of his hands to meet with the black material, pausing once they did. His eyes peered at mine. "I think that-" 

"Shut it." I groan, cutting his sentence off. 

His eyes flashed around to the guards again, moving until they reached back up to mine. "But Gia-" 

The man quickly quietened his voice in reaction to my fingers seizing upon the fabric, dragging it over his face, which then revealed the image of a man that I wouldn't have ever expected to see again. 

The mask drops to the floor, my jaw with it. 

I could also sense the silence in the room being drizzled clearly across my aura, outlining my reaction towards my father being sat below me to ruin my life. 

"Davide." my lips tremble out.

An aching look was smudged across his face, however, I couldn't focus my thoughts on his feelings. I had to focus on why he had himself in this position. 

"Sorry, Gia- I can explain-" the tone in his voice had changed. his attention was on me.

"No." I break off his voice from speaking any further, my hand stretched out in front of his face, and with my voice still contained I spoke to him, "I would love for you to explain all of this." my torso twists a little, signalling the room we stood in.