NIGHTMARE

chapter 20

Y/n's POV.

I hugged him.

And for a sweet and small moment, the devil seemed to be human; he seemed to be capable of loving me like I secretly wanted to love him.

Time froze and I was locked in the sweetest embrace of my life. His sandalwood and mint scent filled my senses, and the crisp white cotton of his suit undershirt pressed against my face, caressing it and making me feel like I was in heaven.

My tiny arms were almost unable to reach each other around his built  figure as I enjoyed this bliss.

I closed my eyes and sighed, letting my chest cave and myself enjoy this rare moment of security.

All the anxiety left my mind; there were no guns, no murders, no mobsters, just Mikey, and I was safe in his hold.

For someone who presented themselves as being emotionally unavailable, he was comforting when he let down his guard; I might have even liked it.

"Y/n," he mumbled. I opened my eyes, going to break the hug, but he held onto me, so I stayed where I was and just shifted my head, nodding.

"Yes," I whispered. Nothing more would come out of my mouth; my throat was dry and hoarse.

What the fuck was happening to me? I was not falling for this guy; I couldn't be. I couldn't be in love with the devil, the mobster.

"You need to leave," he whispered back, lowering his voice. I could tell he didn't want to say those words.

And yet it seemed as though he couldn't bring himself to let me go.

He couldn't open up; he couldn't let down his guard for more than a few short-lived seconds; he was scared, broken, and hurt.

He didn't trust anyone with even an inch of his heart; the shards and wreckage of it were still broken and shattered everywhere.

All this pain he held inside of him—he couldn't let it go, but he wanted to.

"What if I didn't?" I replied impulsively.

Would he kill me? He could have done that already; I had stared down his 9-millimeter barrel enough times and given him enough chances to send me to heaven.

But every time he resented, and here we are now, in a secure embrace.

He didn't seem to know how to respond; he couldn't handle the thought that he might be loved by someone.

Finally, he drew in a deep breath and sighed, "I don't want to hurt you." I stood taken aback; this guy hurt people for a living; he fucking annihilated and sent people off the face of the earth for fun, and yet he didn't want me to be in the same room as him for the fear that he would hurt me.

"What if I said I didn't care?" I replied.

What the fuck is coming out of my mouth right now? I was shit scared of this guy, and now I'm saying, "Yes, please let me stay in a room with your raging ass just because I like the security of your hug'.

We aren't even friends, and I'm here hugging him and feeling scared he will cast me aside. I want him to leave me; I want to be free again, so why am I saying this sh*t?

What has gone wrong in my head? Maybe I was hit with that football or something.

Maybe these guys had brain-altering machines or some sh*t?

"What if I said that I did care enough to force you out of here so I can shoot something that's not you?" His already hushed voice dropped lower again, as if he was hoping that I wouldn't hear it.