Predestined for the Mafia Boss

Lyana 

How to start something I don't even know how to talk about, the worst taking over and the abstraction of happiness moving further and further away in search of a safe place to hide from everything, from so much dirt.

This is how I ended up sitting here looking at the sea and the infinitude on which the horizon lies when my heart breaks more and more as I feel the grains of sand instead of feeling your hand against mine. 

Tired of the way everyone always expects me to participate in everything and be somehow trying to talk or participate in some group when the pain is so much greater. My friends expect you to overcome because of so many achievements but none of them guaranteed that you would stay, none of my words convinced you to be here. 

I lift my body from the sand feeling the grains crumbling and out of sheer selfishness I wish you were feeling this way, I don't want to be the only one missing something so perfect.

This is our flaw - we are too perfect for each other, unable to deal with glaring defects, holding each pain in our throats just to maintain mistrust instead of building something solid between us.

Now with my back to the sea that reminds me so much of your irises I feel the tears falling, my throat closed as even your gaze and like a ghost with every step. I am hungry, desirous, thirsty, but the one capable of feeding each of my soul's desires is too far away in his fantasies unable to provide the vision of reality to himself. 

How does one get lost within his convictions until he is blind to reality? 

Is this how truth dies? 

He took from myself the will and desire to run through life in a not so fragile way to realize how much I wished to be there between his arms. In the midst of misfortune our destinies crossed to finally be in this bed in the middle of autumn under a glass roof admiring the stars after making love like two desperate people. The cabin is all made of noble wood, making everything a little more simple, overshadowed only by the fireplace with so many different textures of the rocks that surround it, forming a protection for the ashes that try to escape from their natural path.

Is this how we ended up here? Escaping from our natural destiny of bad weather by the longest way.

Frustrated, I end up pulling the blanket a little tighter so as to be more protected, even if the only protection needed is in my heart. 

I started wishing I had the strength to overcome everything but this full-bearded man who now stares at me with hungry eyes about to devour me once again is the only one capable of destroying everything I have fought for. From the minimal sanity with which I started this story to the future that I have no greed for coming so soon.

- Thinking too much girl. - Your deep, husky voice mixed with the strong smell of alcohol intoxicates me 

His fingers trace the lines I hate most on my own face, those expression marks that indicate that time neither fails nor delays the consequences. I close my eyes cruelly affected, if we leave here to return to a painful state by itself I will still hold my head high in the face of everything, especially him....

- It is a common evil. - I answer opening my eyes and finding brown blending with a green that hides.

He is a forest hidden between the subway stations, between each avenue, the light brown becoming green in moments as hot as these.

- Let me think about the consequences later," his fingers start to curl the curls that fall down my back.

Soon the stroking passes over my shoulders and goes in the direction of my breasts covered by the warm blanket.

- I wasn't thinking about them. - I say sincerely. 

- And what were you thinking about? - My sweet angel," he whispered, coming closer.

His warm, soft, silhouetted mouth fell on my collarbone in a subtle but eager movement that burned every cell in my body.

- On the beach ... on how the sand between my fingers is able to calm the tidal wave of my beliefs and doubts. - I sigh letting the words fill the silence as I grab the strands of his hair by the nape of my neck, searching for an anchor in reality - and in the frustration caused by our mistakes.

I finish speaking, delivering for the first time in months the raw truth about everything that is going on in my mind. Our gazes meet waging a contest, I am overcome as I am flipped onto my back on the bed opening my legs to welcome him between them unable to close my ankles around his wide hips, the weight stealing the ability of my breathing as it excites me. I sigh surrendered, feeling the firm hand of scarred calluses open against my cheek coming down to squeeze my neck, I close my eyes surrendered as our breaths meet. 

- We are so hypocritical, so sick and strange. - his statement takes me by surprise-and yet, here we are, caught between the painful weeping of this realization and the painful pleasure caused by our feelings.

I open my eyes, needing to find him.

- Is our love so flawed? -I ask

- We are flawed, angel, why do you expect a feeling to be perfect?

Because the reality is that from the moment I met his eyes in that hospital bed I feel as if the world is only his, commanded by him in the midst of the chaos that has transformed my life. The simplicity I had during any moment of the day is now a cold war between the feelings I struggle to get rid of, for he is destructive like the sea air is against iron. A drug seeped into my bloodstream causing a withdrawal. His strong fingers come against my jaw squeezing hard attracting all the attention to himself, his strong body imposes itself quickly over my legs stretched out on the sand, the cold of the sea of Okhotsk does not freeze my bones as his intense gaze burns every one of my insides. 

- Yurich. - I murmur helplessly.

- As much as I imagine I can, Lyana, there is no possibility of you getting rid of me the same way I fell over the precipice of loving you, you are chained to the hell of being mine.

I sigh, bewitched by the man who holds even my dreams, we are sick, we are lovers, we are in love, but we are crazy enough to live a love in the middle of the mafia.