Entitled

D I E C I - I N D I G O

"Why do we know, but act like we don't?"

-Seeker

*WARNING : contains a rabid Italian mafia boss and a swoon worthy kiss*

Third Person

No matter how numb it leaves you, no matter how many shivers it extracts out of you. Isn't the night air just addictive? Sometimes, it's like friendly whispers in a lonely ear and the other it's just an excuse to be engulfed in the welcoming warmth of a heartbeat whose frequency resonates with your own. It's simply intoxicating.

The warm sun rays struck the glass of the French windows and scattered all around the room as if to gather the cold marbles in its arms, like a mother's embrace. Warm and comforting.

Francesca peeled her eyes open when the bright rays pricked behind her lids. She groggily tried to get up and shut those damned capes of Lucifer so that she can get back into the warm covers and a mouthwatering scent of a certain someone.

But she was restricted by an iron grip on her stomach, a grip that tightened further as she tried to wriggle out of it.

"Stop it." she heard.

Startled, she woke up completely. As she looked at the source of the deep baritone, in her state of fright she pushed him with all her might.

"Porcco puttana." Leone groaned due to the pain in his ass.

Literally!

"Francesca, seriously woman. It's barely even morning." Leone said while getting up.

Francesca just gaped at him, still a little dazed. She couldn't put a finger on the fact that Leone was with her in the bed. Keeping her warm in the autumn of Paris.

"How did.... What..." she stuttered miserably in a sleep induced husky voice.

The husk in her voice made him almost moan out loud.

"How did you get in the bed? What were you even doing here?" Francesca asked clearing her throat and dazed mind.

"Well, last time I checked this was my room. So I don't think it's me who needs to be questioned. Don't you think so too?" Leone said, approaching her kneeling form with arms stretched out.

Francesca flinched back, stopping Leone dead in his tracks. Her eyes held surprise and a tad bit of fear, which led his heart to squeeze painfully.

Was he that repulsive to her? Was his touch that vile?

Ignoring the needles in his heart he cautiously approached her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him and perfectly moulding their bodies.

"You are my woman. My bride, gattino. I would never lift a finger with the intention of hurting you, ever. Not in any form." Leone cooed in her ear, soothingly.

She pulled back to look at him, to sense the rabid emotions, that he let add meaning and undying sincerity to his words. And she was not disappointed when her hazel eyes clashed with his twin oceans.

His eyes were ablaze with emotions, and sincerity. If she wasn't being held by his strong arms she surely would have crashed on the ground, gasping for air.

Leone placed his forehead on hers and closed his eyes, seeking her calming warmth.

Kissing her nose in a gentle, teasing manner he was back to business. After all he was yet to investigate the intrusion.

"So principessa, what was exactly going on here yesterday night?" he asked in a firm voice, demanding an answer.

But Francesca wouldn't be Francesca if she let him have his way with her, without resistance. So she straightened her back and met his firm gaze head on.