Lavender and Gold - Dante Reyes x Reader [Fast X]

Chapter 8: The Longing

✧.* -2011: Rio de Janeiro- ✧.*

Dante wears the memory of her on his person every day, a constant reminder of his sins. No one would know from looking at him the ways he keeps her close to him, not even her. She shaped him anew, he had existed before her, but he was only truly himself and no one else's idea of him, a person and not some forgotten son or dangerous juvenile, after she smiled at him and loved him like a friend unconditionally.

He no longer paints his nails or cuts pictures from fashion magazines but he keeps his hair long like she liked it and his clothes loose silks like the ones she said he'd look best in. His house is a shrine built from the memories of the shoe box filled with all of his firsts. Gold is his memorial to the lavender of his childhood.

Since that day he's lived his life stuck in the past, remembering the way he stood still as the cracks and gurgles that came from her father being beaten filled the air. He remembers the way his knees buckled and his eyes burned with tears so hot he thought he'd bled instead of cried. He loves her, he has since she took his hand that first night, but hates himself for it. His heart aches and twists in his chest painful to the point of losing breath when he thinks of her. He is locked in the body of a man with a corrupt world on his shoulders and tormented with the longing of the boy he once was.

He runs his fingers through his long hair roughly at her memory and the turn of his thoughts, putting it up into a bun so he can aim his gun more easily. Violence reminds him of her, of the way she looked crouched over her father in a pool of blood, her eyes wet and begging him to do something. He growls in frustration, desperate to banish the shame and pain, and trying to focus on his most recent order from his father.

He aims his gun and fires repeatedly, hitting the target perfectly every time. He finally shoots the last man in the head and stands up without any semblance of caution. He leaps over the hood of the car he was crouched behind and walks over to the largest mass of bodies. His father's men follow behind him, having been far more wary and waited a second rather than jumping out like he had when the last spray of blood hit the ground. He was never one to be cautious, but after that day he is borderline dangerously apathetic. He kicks the body of the gang leader over and rifles around in his pockets before pulling out the canister he was sent to procure. He indifferently wipes his hands of blood on the back of the dead man's shirt and stands.

His father's men loiter, looking at him with a mix of suspicion and imitation respect. They know better than to hesitate before following his orders but they also know that he jumps when his father says to, a flunky in his own way. He wields the men with borrowed fear rather than respect and if anything could matter to him it might bother him, but as long as they stay out of his way and cover his back like they're told, their respect means nothing.

He ignores the men and hops on his motorcycle, pulling out and speeding through the neon streets of Rio. When he reaches his father's base he marches through the numerous guard posts, brushing off every gun that points his way for a split second before they recognize the boss's son. When reaches his father's office he pushes the doors open violently, making a thunderous noise as the doors fly open and hit the walls. The girls hanging off of his father as he sits at his desk yelp and flinch at the noise and Dante's entrance but don't make any move to leave, they know their job and it's not done until his father dismisses them. His father looks less than amused with him but holds his hand up and waves the women away who pretend to pout as they flounce out, leaving a wide berth around Dante as they walk. They know better.

He doesn't bother to watch them leave but his father's eyes follow them until they are out of sight. Dante walks up to the oversized mahogany desk and sets the canister down. His father appraises him for a second before grabbing the canister with disinterest, he tosses it behind him, missing the trash can. Dante's eyebrow twitches in irritation. A wild goose chase isn't a rarity coming from his father, his father thinks it's a clever way to secure his assets by never letting any of his men know if what they are acquiring is worth the risk, or a mutiny. Dante is no exception to this and is frequently sent off to risk his life at his father's whim. The anticipation of his father's pride at the completion of his tasks has soured with the frequency of the fake missions.