Captive of My Mafia Crush
I sit, staring up at him, and watch in surprise as he crouches before me, dipping a hand into his pocket and producing – of all things – a little foil-wrapped chocolate that he holds out in his palm.
“Here,” he says. “It’s magic candy. It will fix you right up.”
I can’t help it – I laugh, my eyes crinkling at my strange and thoughtful friend who always, somehow, knows…just precisely what to do.
“Thanks, Frank,” I murmur, taking the little chocolate from him and unwrapping it with my still-shaking fingers. And then I slip the chocolate into my mouth, and close my eyes, exhaling deeply as the chocolate starts to melt on my tongue.