soooooo chapter 4 up!

i post this link as promised for squalo's dress... (no im not into crossdressing)

fav. me /d6cywaj(thers nothing interesting in there)

ok i suck with drawing, i suck with painting i suck with photoshop and technology in general so no flame please T.T

'Hey trash, is that true you're that lame ass Bartali's puttana?'

'Voooooi, you bastard. Who dare you call Bartali's bitch?' I waved murderously a hand from my habit of wielding a sword to my opponents.

'Of course, you, puttana. I see in addition of being a total whore your brain is also suffering from stupidity.' He drank greedily at a bottle of wine I didn't see he had brought with him at first, damn calm and haughty.

It didn't amaze me, I knew that bastard. I mean I didn't have the great pleasure of meeting him yet, but I already saw him from afar during mafia assemblies. His name is Xanxus, the next heir of the Vongola family, basically the same type of organization as the Bartali's. As I said before, I only saw him from afar, taking glimpses on his high stature, his large back and spiky raven hair from behind, guessing dark skin, even darker scars and bloody red orbs. I never talked to him before – it's not like I couldn't, please don't misunderstand me: I could, but I didn't want to. You see, Xanxus Vongola is what you call a fucking spoiled brat, at his old padre's regret. He eats, drinks, swears, fucks, kills, drinks, swears and eats again. People would much more associate him to a caveman than anything else, but a caveman who can use guns and would happily make holes as big as your ass in your skull before resuming his orgy. And the funniest thing is that people would ever praise his name and ask for more. Fucking cattle of damn hell. If I placed this story in an empty-minded secondary school-brats context, I would be the ugly, socially retarded, unpopular guy anyone would flee from, bullied every fucking day by a fucking mentally disturbed Andrea asshole, while Xanxus would be the handsome, worshipped and stupid son of a rich business man. Just add in the dense pretty girl and you have your cutie love triangle. Great story, ain't this? I already own the rights. Back to our main point, you have a violent, alcoholic irresponsible and disrespectful 34 years old man, the next leader of the assassination group Varia, and the Vongola's first inheritor.

Fuck that. That asshole broke Superbi Squalo's damn limits with the first sentence he told, and some had already had their guts ripped out for one word only. I could already smell the ferrous scent loitering in the air while a red sticky and thick liquid would gush on the pale floor. Damn thrilling. On the other hand I didn't bring my sword, and even drunk Xanxus still was a threat, a deadly threat to overpower. I'm not the kind of guy to do strategic withdrawals – rather the guy who kills first and asks questions after. But that time my instinct of self-preservation told me to shut the fuck up and wait for the menace to go away by itself. Yet again, my mind has blown up a long time ago, thus I grinned wickedly.

'Voi, you'll have to bless God for the rest of your shitty life, scum, because I let it go for today. Now get out from my sight before I fucking seriously think about cutting your tongue off.'

I swear I lost sight of that dickhead for barely one second to see – read: to goggle – at him completely overlooking me (I was on high heels, dammit!), a calloused hand gripping painfully at my arm, but above all his angry face two inches from mine. I could plainly see his features, from the refined curve of his jaw, his thin yet mannish chin, his heavy eyes circled by hardly ostensible bluish bags, blatant evidences of the debauched life he used to live; his large and scarred forehead was covered with black tufts which seemed softer when seen this near, a very light wrinkle was starting to appear between his eyebrows. He was reeking of wine and tequila like no hell. I kept quiet for about two seconds, as surprised as dumbfounded at the unexpected approach. He heatedly furrowed at me, his wrinkle deepening.

'You piece of junk. Don't you ever think of giving me orders. I'd burn your shitty face down.' He then softened his hold and made a step back. Thin lips stretched into a fake smile. 'By the way what is that shit of a roba for?'

I snapped.

'Vooooi. You shitty piece of scum get the fuck off me! Fucking spoiled brat, do you think every butt-lickers in this scum-like world are made to serve and fear you until the very day of their awaited death? Just smile and wait gladly for feccia like you to bother them for every shitty need of your shitty life? A great mafia capo? Are you fucking kidding me? Muori! Scums of the earth like you just have to have their head chopped. That would be a goddamn relief for humankind! Just why the hell do I have to bear all the silliness in this fucking God forsaken world, to have a pervert forcing me into a shitty dress, a bloody idiot pouring booze on that shitty dress, and a fucking drunkard mocking at me because of the same shitty dress, everything the same fucking day? I don't ever know why the heck I am loosing time with a bastard like you! I'm leaving this shitty party. Screw you! Screw all of you! Like hell would I put up with those hogs anymore…'

I was at the point of heading to the door when I tripped and fell. I tripped and fell in front of that bastard. How humiliating. I started blushing – one more embarrassment to add on my oh-so-very long list of awkward moments. However an unknown force obliged me to look back at what I presumed was a laughing-his-ass-down smug son of a bitch; and then I saw the said laughing-his-ass-down smug son of a bitch's foot pressing on the tail of my goddamn dress.

'I asked, trash, what that shit of a roba is for. I'm waiting for your fucking answer.'

'Vooi,'re ya retard or something?' I burst. 'Get off!' I pulled on my dress and finally freed it from his jailer. I heard another burst of laugh from the inside. Luckily it wasn't because of my 'accident'. I somehow got up, dust off my outfit and rolled it up to my knees, keeping it like that. I didn't what that fucker to nark me about it anymore. I glared at the drunkard.

'Tell me why the hell did you do that, and I warn you if your explanation doesn't satisfy me, I'll rip your balls off.'

Xanxus leant on the barrier, back facing the night, head up and disdainful.

'Because I felt like it, dumb trash. Do you have a problem with that?'

'…'

I mentally facepalmed. That's right, Xanxus is so to speak a 34 years old grown up man with a 10 years old schoolboy's mentality, and the world is his playground. A real pain in the ass to deal with.

'Che. I'm leaving. I'm fed up with this shit. Go fuck yourself.'

'I'd rather you instead.'

If glares could kill Xanxus would be dead since a long long time, or at least severely wounded – if we were in those stupid battle game, his energy gauge would certainly have turned from green to orange. But yet we were in real life and the bastard was wholly safe and sound. He just drank his booze at one draught before throwing it somewhere. I heard it crash in a dark corner.

'Vooi. What really is your fucking problem with me?' I yelled. 'Can't you simply get yourself to …'

'You're fucking noisy, trash. You're giving me a headache.'

'And whose fault is that, fucker?' I shouted louder. 'I never asked you to come here and bother the fuck of me. You are the one annoying me!'

'Bitch, if you don't like it it's even. Feel free to go your way.'

'Why the fuck should I be the one leaving? I was here first. You go leave!'

'Shut up. Fucking prostituta just has to do what I say.'

'Fuck off! I already told you not consider me as your fucking bitch!'

'I don't know how to see you differently. For me you're merely a goddamn long haired whore in a fancy dress. Do you want lies with that?' Xanxus laughed.

Shit. I was tired of it. It was turning into a children's fight. That hellish night would have been somehow manageable if that sucker didn't come out. What was that scum's problem, truly? I'd never done anything to needle him, yet I had to deal with his childishness and that stupid hassle. Fucking annoying asshole. Che hai? Ti scosta!

'Do you know that song? I caught you mumble it earlier.' He said after a while.

'Huh? Now what?' I totally forgot about the song. It was still playing in the air, and was noticeably heard from the balcony.

'Your brain do badly sucks. I'll help you remember it…'

Without further ado, Xanxus came up to me and grabbed my hands.

'Come? The heck?!...'

'Shut up, scum.'

He hooked my left hand on his back, and kept the right one shoulder-leveled, evidently parted from my chest. He then tugged my waist ahead, closing both our bodies. It took him three seconds to do that with me struggling like hell.

'The fuck are you…'

'We're moving now, freak.' So we did.

The music was rousing, light and easy to follow, though I didn't use to dance on classic music; hell I didn't use to dance at all, left being the one lead! I stopped fighting back and, well hey, I quietly let Xanxus lead me. I wasn't joyfully submitting; I was just too busy watching where to place my clumsy feet. I didn't want to trip over again (yeah, you can weigh up my poor dancing skills) and meet with a new humiliation – yet now I sense a kind of contradiction: so I didn't want to embarrass myself by falling down, but I allowed that ass to playfully drag me to a round dance? Fuck.

Sometimes I would glance nervously inside the castle: no one was watching us, thank goodness they hadn't heard our argument. Wait. An argument? I correct myself: arguments are things that happen within familiare, between children and their parents, or within couples. Xanxus and I were none of these. I'd rather call that a row. Back to where I deviated, we were more or less isolated from the people inside, which was for me a real bless. That would have been the best: two Mafiosi dancing together like a newly married couple! My pride wouldn't have survived at this.

Against the odds, Xanxus was a good dancer. And that was weird beyond doubt. The high alcohol rate in his blood was making him move slowly, but he managed to stay in rhythm with the melody. We kept whirling all over the balcony, tagging along with the symphony, one step on the left, followed by one step on the right; at a change of time, Xanxus would toss me with one hand, draw me near again, and then pirouette me once more; he would continue turning around, bending me here and there, stretching an withdrawing our arms over again. His free arm was loosened on my hip while his head was resting against mine, sometimes his jaw would eerily brush against my skin, or he would lazily sink his chin in my hair, a silvery shining river waving along with our movements; the smell of alcohol had became an abnormal pattern.

We continued like that until the very end of the song.

I would be damned would I say I enjoyed it a bit by the end.

He still didn't want to release me. He indolently kept his chin against my temple. I couldn't ignore his heavy breath disappearing in my silver mane.

'Vooi,'re ya happy now, bastard? So leave me al…'

I was muttered by hungry lips crushing on mine, licking, biting, chewing, devouring. Xanxus was a great dancer, but he was a better kisser. His tongue was intertwining with mine, skillfully stimulating it. He grabbed my chin and forced my head to tilt aside to allow him a better access and pulled my waist even closer.

'Mmm… Aan! ...'

I couldn't help but moan at the process. Xanxus tugged on one tuft on silvery hair and ghostly grazed a thumb on my neck.

It hadn't taken more time until he got me turned on. My legs started shaking.

It was something new to me, nothing like Andrea. It was something hot, overwhelming and defeating, all at the same time. Xanxus' kiss was an attack reducing all your defenses to nil and ravishing you until you crave for more. I tasted wine, tequila, bourbon and a load of wrath on his appendage, and maybe were they affecting me too, that would be why I let him carry on his treatment, and hang ever harder on well-toned arms. As I said, the kiss was ravaging; soon I was out of breath. A slight shade of pink got to my cheeks. I faintly gripped at Xanxus' back to alert him I needed to breathe. That asshole didn't break until I pulled him harder, totally breathless, a trail of saliva drooling on my chin, knees weakened enough for me to fall another time, but I was too busy catching my breath to care about.

Only God knows how I ended up crammed between Xanxus and the fucking balustrade, not minding the vacuum behind me.

Our faces finally parted. I was blushing and panting like hell, trying to scowl at that bastard, but I guessed I failed and instead gave him a pitiful pout.

'Voi… That song… Ah… That's fucking geezer Viv… Mmm!' I said between two pants, before he started kissing me again. Once again I let myself being overcome by his existence.

One minute later we stopped our making-out session. Both of us were gasping for air. I was propping myself on Xanxus' chest, fists clenching on his jacket and forehead hidden by his left shoulder. Relatively recovered from my almost suffocation, I cast a glance at my partner. What I saw – bloody red eyes grown dim by an unfathomable lust itching for more than a kiss – wasn't exactly what you expect to see to set your mind at rest. So I caught the drunkard's gaze: he was staring down at me abruptly as a starving man would fix at a piece of underdone carne.

'Trash.' He murmured at my ear 'Be mine.'

Midnight rang at the castle's orologio.

so end of chapter 4! how did you find it? chap 5 next week!

BTW the song is Vivaldi's "four seasons: winter"

i loooooove that song, but i dont ever knos if its possuble to dance on it