Mafially Yours

15

My eyes met his again, and my heart moved at the darkness of his eyes that strangely brought safety into my soul. As if my body knew that he brought me peace, but my brain was unable to believe it. I felt comforted even by his presence next to me, without doing anything. He broke the contact our eyes built by getting up, taking his drink, and moving to the kitchen island, placing his glass on it with his back facing me. I got up and followed him.

"Answer me!" I yelled.

"Maybe you're right," his soft voice growled, making his words echo between the high walls, "Maybe I'm not doing all of this just for your father," he paused. "Maybe if it was only for your father, I would have given up by now." his eyes looked down at my watery ones, not blinking once, not leaving mine for a second. "Maybe there is another reason." He was talking to himself more than he was thinking of an answer to my question. And that was enough to show me that he didn't even know the answer himself, but his words made me frown. I was confused, lost, and unsure of what he was trying to say.

"What does that mean?" And for the first time, he was able to hear my soft and calm voice. My tears finally broke free and ran down my cheeks.

"I don't know," his tone was almost unheard despite the silence that filled the room.

I wasn't sure if my heart dropped because of what he said or because my feelings were unstable at the moment.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I raised my voice again, frustrated by the answer he gave me.

"What is going on, guys, your voices are so loud, you know?" Fred said, walking down the stairs. Huncho closed his eyes and sighed before leaving his glass and storming out of the front door. I shook my head and ran to my room, passing by Fred on the stairs and seeing Damien watching the scene with his vexing smirk from the balcony of the second floor. I walked into my room and slammed the door.

I was furious and broken. The two emotions were battling inside of me, and I wasn't sure whether to scream from anger or pain. I punched the door a few times before walking to the bed and throwing my body on the mattress. Little by little, with the ticking of the clock, the wound of my father's death bled a little more. My heart was aching. I had no more tears to shed. I didn't realise how much I cried all night until I opened my eyes. My eyes automatically met my father's portrait on top of my bed. They were filled with so much anger and madness, but at the same time, I was missing him way more than expected. I groaned and grinned at my teeth. I sat down, took a pillow, and threw it on the picture. Then another, then another. But my anger didn't die down; on the contrary, it boiled over. I wanted to see him, I wanted to blame him. I wanted to tell him that my life turned into something I hated living. And it was all because of him. Nowhere will ever give me the peace I had before knowing my father was a criminal.

I gasped when I heard the doorknob turning. When my eyes met Fred's, I quickly looked down and wiped my cheeks.

"I...uhm, wanted to check up on you," he opened the door a little more, "since, you know, I heard you and Huncho fighting,"

I sniffed and blinked a couple of times before smiling, "Thank you." I looked up at his warm smile. "Of course," his smile didn't leave his lips, but my attention was caught by his long sword earring swinging front and back. His oversized black shirt and pants, his black boots, and his sword earrings didn't match the warmth of his personality. I thought that this style suited Huncho more, but again, Huncho's style can never suit anyone more than Huncho himself. Even though his eyes were black, they held more life than Huncho's deep blue ones. However, Fred had way more tattoos than Huncho. He had tattoos on both arms and his neck, going under his shirt; maybe he had more unseen ones. "I wanted to just...tell you to not take Huncho so harshly," he pointed behind him, hesitating to come closer but still approaching the bed. "He is often too honest and too... harsh, and can't filter what he says, you know?" he paused as I returned the smile that was still glued on his face. "He also doesn't know how to talk to girls," we giggled, and I shook my head. He didn't even know how to talk, I thought to myself. "I learned from my sister, I grew up with my sister, and the difference between us wasn't too big, so we were close."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"

He nodded.

"Does she live here too, or do you go see her?"

"I..." he shrugged and looked away, digging his hands in his pockets. "I am not sure," his smile became sadder, and his eyes kept blinking. "She found out what I do, so she refused to have anything to do with it, you know?" He took a deep breath and looked at his shoes, "she changed her address. I call her though," he blinked a few more times and nodded, "Sometimes she doesn't answer because she is busy. And when she answers, she talks to me for a couple of minutes, then tells me she has to go, you know?"

My heart ached for him, but I understood where his sister was coming from. I understood how she would rather lose her brother than see him be a criminal and hold a gun.

"What is her name?"

"Susu" He took a few moments zoning out before being sent back to reality. He shook his head and smiled again. "Anyway, let's focus on you! I am sure you're hungry. I will make ramen noodles, do you want?"

I giggled and nodded.

The next hour or two were the only moments I was able to have a good time in this place since I set foot in it. Fred's stories didn't come to an end; he was so talkative, so amusing, and so fun to be around. He kept telling me stories about him or his sister. He kept telling me to eat, but instead of refusing, I would switch his attention to another question I would ask. The noodles he made were delicious, but I didn't find the appetite to take more than just a couple of bites as I sat and listened to his stories, giving me the ability to finally push my grief to the back of my head for just a little bit. But it didn't last long.

My room door was pushed open, and Huncho's figure appeared behind it.

"Fred, leave us alone a little bit," Huncho's voice roared into the silent room.

I looked at Fred and widened my eyes, trying to send him a signal to stay and not leave. But he ignored me and slowly got up, looked at me and Huncho and me for a few seconds before taking his plate and walking out.

Huncho approached where I was sitting on my bed and sat across from me. He looked down for a couple of seconds before saying, "You need to understand that without your father, I would have been dead by now."

"So he saved you by making you a criminal," I softly said.

He exhaustingly sighed and then got up. He went to get the noodle bowl that Fred made me and walked back. He places it in front of me on the bed, "You need to eat."

"I am not hungry."

"Elena," he warned me, "you need to eat. You didn't eat anything all day."