Pairing: Stefano Valentini x Reader/Female Protagonist (+18)

Warnings: Strong language, mild sexual themes

Current Time: October 14th, 2016

=2=

The water was cold against your skin—it hadn't been that way whenever you first submerged yourself within your bathtub that dreary morning, but the time you had spent in there had been lost on you. You weren't aware that your flesh was now wrinkled and pale due to the dropping water temperature, and you most certainly weren't aware that you were now fifteen minutes late to work. Right now, all that mattered was the silence and solace the water allowed you to experience, and the respite that the darkness beneath the water's surface brought you. How long had you been submerged now? It wasn't like that mattered.

You opened your eyes for only a moment beneath the water, seeing the shimmering surface only inches above you. The real world was out there—a cruel, unkind, and unforgiving world that wanted nothing more than to devour you, body and soul, and spit out what little remained. You weren't ready to go back out into that world; not yet. You exhaled a tiny bit of air through your nose, feeling your chest ache with the need the breathe as you watched a pillar of bubbles rise to the surface of the water. You closed your eyes once again, letting the darkness consume your vision with no resistance; it was comforting, it was quiet, and it was welcoming. As the seconds passed, the aching within your chest only continued to worsen as your lungs cried out for air, your heart throbbing desperately within your ribcage and echoing within your ears.

It was only when the darkness that filled your vision was suddenly defiled by the image of your best friend, smiling at you with eyes glazed over and blood smeared across his gashed face, that you immediately drew yourself out from underneath the water and took in a large gulp of air; you brought your arms around your body, trying to find some form of comfort in your own embrace as the all-too-familiar tingling sensation began near the bridge of your nose and your vision began to blur with tears. You embraced yourself harder, your nails digging into your skin as you sobbed through clenched teeth—there was no escaping the image that you had just seen. Each and every time you closed your eyes, you either saw the vision that had been engraved into your mind, or heard the sickening sounds that you experienced that horrible, traumatic night several weeks prior.

You finally released yourself from your embrace, bringing the palm of your hand up to your eyes and rubbing at them as you tried to calm yourself down. You stared down at the water beneath you, watching as the remaining tears dripped from the bottom of your chin and onto the surface; you could see how puffy and red your eyes were in your reflection, and you sighed heavily as you reached beneath the water and tugged the plug out, finally allowing the water to drain. You stared at the slowly receding water for a few moments, then brought yourself out of the tub and grabbed a towel from the rack before wrapping it around your upper body. It was only now that you saw the time on the clock beside your sink, alerting you that you were now nearly twenty minutes late to work; you did nothing but bat your eyes slowly at it and make your way into your bedroom to begin getting dressed.

Despite the dress code at the Krimson Post being business casual, you threw on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, not even bothering to put on a bra—you weren't anywhere near in the mood to care today, and honestly, you didn't even want to go into the office. However, you were forcing yourself through the day, just as you had each and every day for the previous month. You walked back into your bathroom and half-assedly ran a brush through your wet hair, not even bothering to attempt drying it. Today was going to be a long one, and you weren't looking forward to it one bit.

=2=

You hated the city streets now. The roaring of cars recklessly racing down the road stabbed at your ears like the dullest of knives, making the sound all the more excruciating and torturous to listen to. You tugged your hood up over your head, hoping to muffle the noise at least a little bit, and then shoved your hands into the pocket that was on the front of your hoodie. When you stopped at a crosswalk where several other pedestrians were waiting to cross, you looked up at the large building that was right in front of you; your lovely office building, the renowned Krimson Post, loomed over the city like a giant threatening to consume all in it's path. It was one of the largest buildings in the entire city, housing an impressive sixty-eight stories from entrance floor to executive office. What all those floors held you would never be able to remember or explain, but all you knew was that the sheer size of the building was highly unnecessary.

Your attention was drawn away from the building as the people around you began to move, and you gave a quiet sigh as you followed them across the street. Once you were safely across, you reluctantly tugged the hood off of your head and made your way into the lobby of the gargantuan building.

"(Name)."

You stopped immediately in your tracks, rolling your eyes at the sound of your name. You had only been in the building for literally five seconds, and someone was already addressing you. You exhaled deeply, then turned to see none other than Matt Hades, your boss and the esteemed owner of the Krimson Post, striding towards you. Just seeing that greying crew cut and white-laced boxed beard made your blood boil, but it was his eyes that made your anger threaten to spill over. Azure eyes that had been glazed over by unhealthy amounts of fame and greed—eyes that saw people not as people, but rather as objects used to make profit. You had disliked him from the very moment you met him, but you put up with it due to the pay that he offered for your services; you couldn't deny that he paid well, though his attitude was horrendous.

Your (color) eyes followed him until he stood directly in front of you, hands behind his back in a posture that screamed holier-than-thou, then blinked slowly as he looked you over from head to toe. It was evident that he wasn't happy with your current attire, or rather, he wasn't happy with you in general.

"Come."

Without so much as a second passing before turning on his heel, he was already striding down the polished flooring towards the elevator at the end of the lobby. You scowled at the way he spoke to you, much like a master would speak to their dog, but reluctantly followed him into the elevator—it truly was a wonder how such a shallow man like him was allowed to have such immense success.

The ride in the elevator itself was one that you weren't fond of. The silence was deafening, and you could practically feel the judging stare of the man beside you as you kept your eyes glued to the floor number; it was only when you felt the elevator stop that you peeled your eyes away from the floor number and instead placed them on the office now within your view as the elevator doors opened. Large, lavishly decorated, and just what you'd expect from such a materialistic man; throwing your current thoughts out of your mind, you followed your boss inside his office, watching as he took a greatly over-exaggerated seat upon his chair. He then gestured for you to sit down in one of the two chairs that he had sitting in front of his desk, and you obliged without a single word. It was silent between the two of you for a moment, then Hades sighed deeply, leaned back in his chair, and stared at you while he spoke.

"I'm going to cut right to the chase, (Name). I can't keep allowing this kind of behavior from you—we have a dress code here, which you're obviously not caring enough to follow, and your work has been, well, less than stellar."

You followed his right hand as he laid out several clipped columns upon his desk, which you immediately identified as your own; Bloodied Body, Mourning Hearts, the column you had written about the death of James King shortly after his death was publicly announced. Krimson Killer: Malicious Psychopath, or Maliciously Misunderstood, a column you had created based on various statements from people you had interviewed over the course of several months. Several other smaller columns that you had written came into view, but your eyes stopped upon the one that had started it all: Critiquing Critics: Art Truly Is in the Eye of the Beholder, the column that had called out the negative criticism and hatred that Stefano's artwork had received all those many months ago, and in turn, led to everything you had experienced with him now—a year's worth of work, and those were only the ones that were published by the Krimson Post. You, of course, had other columns you had attempted to write, but they hadn't been deemed good enough by Hades to publish.

"These have been laid out in order of least traffic generated to most traffic generated. Obviously the one that that contained the drama between you and the other journalists was the one that people enjoyed the most… after all, everyone enjoys a good bout of drama every now and again."

You glanced up at Hades, seeing a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Your drama had generated traffic, which was something that, in turn, led Hades into the possession of more income. He didn't even seem to care about how maliciously you were attacked by the other critics after the column had been publicly published. Looking upon it now, Hades should have known the backlash you would receive if the article had been published; no… he knew the backlash you would receive once that article went public, and he didn't give a damn. You watched as the smirk faded from his lips, and his eyebrows furrowed in what you could only assume was his best attempt at looking concerned for you.

"Look, (Name)… I'll be honest with you, here. Aside from your very first article, everything that we've published from you just hasn't been up to par. The traffic your columns generate is mediocre at best, and I know you've got so much more potential hidden away inside you. I mean-"

He stopped, and he gave a small chuckle.

"-you're literally dating the world's most controversial artist! Surely you've heard him talk about the way he makes his work, or at the very least seen how he does it, or-"

"Don't you dare bring Stefano into this. I'm not using him as some means to generate… traffic, as you like to call it."

He immediately stopped in his tracks, knowing that he had misspoken. He stayed silent for a few moments, and then cleared his throat before leaning forward in his chair and speaking once again.

"(Name), you're one of my most beloved journalists here. Even though your articles don't generate as much- perhaps I should stop saying that, hmm? Anyway, I took a liking to your first article because you, unlike other journalists, dared to fight back against the flood. But, it seems as though you've lost your drive. Your columns are well researched, yes, but they lack the individuality that you displayed within your first column. That's why we've only published three of your columns out of all the ones you've submitted."

You felt your right forefinger twitch, followed shortly by the right corner of your lip, which threatened to bend downwards into a scowl. It was obvious that Hades wasn't good at lying at all; he was a businessman first and foremost, which meant he could strike amazing deals and provide half-truths without so much as a twinge of guilt for doing so, but whenever it came down to interpersonal relationships, he was extremely lackluster in his ability to lie. You meant nothing to him—you were nothing more than a pawn he used to further his company and increase the size of his pockets.

"Alongside the missing individuality and drive, I'm worried about your own wellbeing, (Name). I know you've suffered a horrible loss, what with the death of your best friend, but it's been almost a month since that happened. Time has to move forward, and you have to separate your work life from your personal life. Hey, I have an idea… maybe you could use the experience of what happened that night to write something about the current underlying crime issues in Krimson City, hmm? After all, you've been through a traumatic experience personally because of it now, and it would give you a great opportunity to-"

"You know what? I don't have to take this from you anymore."

You rose to your feet from your chair, turning on your heel as you began to head in the direction of the door.

"Excuse you, I'm not done with you yet! (Name), don't-"

"You may not be done with me, Hades, but I'm done with you. First you try to make my significant other into some kind of personal controversy generator, then you feign concern about my wellbeing. Not only do you feign it, but you try to make me use my best friend's death as a means to create some heart-wrenching story that will draw in millions of readers. I sat on the sidewalk, holding him in my arms as he bled to death, Hades. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and I watched as they put him into the ground a few days later. I'm not going to use my goddamn best friend, who did nothing but spend every minute of every day trying to make me smile, who died because of some asshole who wasn't paying attention and didn't even bother to stop, who died because of me and my negligence, as a profit generator!"

You curled your fingers into the palm of your hand as you clenched your first, tears freely dripping from the bottom of your chin and disappearing into either your hoodie or the carpet flooring of the office. Your teeth were clenched painfully within your jaw, your eyes boring a hole right between Hades' eyes as you stared him down with almost murderous intent. It was incredible how one man could be so ignorant to the painful emotions of life, and how he could be so hellbent on making profit off of the misery of others. You swallowed hard, your throat stinging from your outburst only moments earlier; it was only then that you saw Hades sigh deeply, and lean back in his chair.

"I know how he died, (Name). It wasn't because of you, either. He was hit by a driver who vanished into the night… and you had nothing to do with any of that. Honestly, hearing what you just said has reassured me that the choice I'm making is the right one."

Your eyes were drawn towards his hand, which was placing a small, official-looking letter on his desk. He scooted it towards you slightly, and then released another heavy sigh as he placed his hands upon his midsection and nodded in the direction of the paper.

"I'm issuing you an ultimatum, (Name). I'm not doing this off-record either, hence why I'm giving it to you on an official document. Ever since the accident, it's been clear that your mental health has been degrading. You're late every day that you're supposed to come in to the office, ignoring dress code, and producing work that just isn't up to par with the skills I know you have. I have taken the liberty of setting up an appointment with the psychologist this company is insured with in your name; with that being said, my ultimatum is this: either you go to the appointment tonight at seven, or I will be forced to remove you from this company."

He rose to his feet slowly, being sure to push his chair underneath his desk after doing so, and then grabbed the paper within his fingers before walking over to you. He took your hand, placing the document within it before giving your shoulder a gentle pat; as much as you hated it, you were already mentally exhausted and just wanted this encounter to be over with.

"I wasn't lying about you being a good journalist, (Name). You have the potential to become the best journalist this company employs… and I do want to help you get there, but you just have to heal a little bit first. Please think it over."

With that, Hades stepped out of his office and ventured towards the elevator, which you eventually heard shut and take your boss further down towards the lower floors of the building. Once he was gone, you gave a single, painfully frustrated cry and threw the document out of your hand before sinking to your knees onto the carpet of the office. First you had lost Vincent, and now you had to worry about potentially losing your job.

The world, which was already devoid of the light that your best friend brought into it, was seemingly becoming nothing but darker.

=2=

"Eat, amore mio… you look as though you haven't eaten in days."

You felt Stefano's hand run over the small of your back, and you could feel his gaze locked onto you as you stared at the plate of cut fruit he had placed on the table in front of you. You weren't sure if you wanted to eat, or allow yourself to simply wither away; your mind was straddling on the fence, slowly drifting back and forth over each decision. You could hear Stefano's voice continue speaking beside you, but you couldn't comprehend what he was saying as you gently tapped the flats of your thumbs together; your mind was focused on your encounter with Hades earlier that day, and something was gnawing away at your mind that you desperately needed to speak about.

"Have you ever wanted to kill someone?"

Whatever Stefano had been saying at the time, he immediately halted and stayed silent; though you weren't looking at him, you knew he was looking at you with concern. You expected nothing less from him, but you knew that you could talk to him about anything, and this was something that you simply couldn't let eat away at you.

"When I was in Hades' office earlier today… and when I was sitting in front of his desk… every word that left his lips made this unquenchable anger grow inside of me. It felt like my entire body was on fire, even though I wasn't giving him the satisfaction of any kind of outward emotion. The more he spoke, the more I wanted to just lean over his desk and feel his throat beneath my fingers…"

You moved your hands, flexing your fingers as you spoke to replicate what it would be like to strangle something within them.

"It would have been so easy. Now that I'm talking about it, I want to feel awful for having such a desire, but… I just can't bring myself to fully feel that way. It's awful…"

"Awful because your mind is justifying your thoughts?"

"No… awful that someone like him is alive."

You rubbed at your nose, the uncomfortable stinging building up once again as you felt tears threaten to spill over. You hated yourself for crying so much, but you couldn't stop it. You brought your forehead to rest upon the palms of your hands, your nails digging into your scalp as you stared at the floor of Stefano's studio; you sniffed, several tears finally dripping from your eyes and spotting the tile beneath you.

"It's so goddamn unfair that such an inconsiderate, unfeeling, greedy, selfish, egotistical bastard can be alive and thriving. What makes him so fucking special? Why is someone like him allowed to live, but someone who spent every day of his life trying to make people happy, who brought nothing but light into the world, and who lived to care for others was taken out of it? Why is someone like Hades allowed the gift of life? Why the hell wasn't someone like him taken instead of Vincent!?"

You sobbed deeply after crying out the last part of your sentence, only to completely break down moments later when you felt Stefano's arms wrap around you and pull you against his body. You buried your face in his suit, your fingers curling into the fabric and clutching it tightly as you sobbed deeply against him; you could feel your lover's fingers digging into your body as he attempted to pull you closer to him than you already were, and for whatever reason, this loving attempt at comfort made you sob all the more. What you didn't know, however, was the reason that Stefano was holding you so tightly.

You had wanted to kill.

Thus far, you had been kept innocent and clean of his misdeeds, and on the one hand, he desired to keep it that way. He originally never wanted you to find out about how he created his artwork, but now his mind was beginning to question whether or not this was the best plan of action—though you hadn't gone through with your thoughts, you said that you wanted to kill. And, on top of that, your mind was justifying your potential actions and not allowing you to feel fully guilty for what you felt; the thought of you becoming a killer was far more enticing than the artist would ever dare admit aloud, and imagining your euphoria upon achieving your first kill was far more than alluring. If he could somehow track down your best friend's killer, how would you look upon delivering divine judgement to him? What beautiful, bloodlust-driven expression would you make as you crushed his windpipe, or cut him open like he was nothing more than the pig that he was? Imagining such a scenario made the murderous itch within him beg to be scratched. He could see your figure in his mind clear as day: your body illuminated by the perfect backlighting, eyes cold and unfeeling as blood that was not your own glistened upon your fair skin.

The image alone made the itch dig under his skin, burying itself into his heart where it knew he wouldn't be able to ignore it for long. However, he would have to force himself to ignore it, at least until you weren't around. For now, he held you against him and ran his slender fingers through your hair as he listened to you attempt to stifle your sobs. You had ignited the fire of inspiration within him, but he wanted you to be yourself again before creating whatever new art piece came of this inspiration; after all, you were his muse, and it wouldn't be the same if you weren't in the mood to enjoy his artwork as much as he did. He looked down at you, watching as you brought the back of your hand to your eyes and rubbed them gently; it would seem you had finally managed to calm yourself down with his help, and you gave a quiet sniff before glancing up at him.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to drag you down with me. I hate how much I've been crying lately…"

"Don't be sorry, amore mio. I'm here for you through anything."

Stefano leaned over slightly, which made a quiet, discomforted whine pass your lips; when he returned to his normal position, you took notice of the small fruit wedge that he was holding in front of your eyes. You sighed softly—despite not entirely feeling up to eating, you took the wedge between your middle and forefinger and brought it to your lips, taking a small nibble every now and again. It comforted you that Stefano was being such a sweetheart in your time of need, despite the fact that you hadn't been giving him as much attention ever since the accident. You swallowed the fruit that you had within your maw, then gave a quiet huff of breath before beginning to speak.

"I'm going to go see the therapist. I wasn't going to originally, but I can't afford to get fired from my job. I also don't want our relationship to suffer any more than it already has, and Vincent wouldn't want me to stay like this the rest of my life. The best way to honor him would be to get help and live the best life that I can, just like he always wanted me to."

Stefano leaned down, and you felt his lips press against the top of your head in a tender kiss. It made the smallest hint of a smile creep across your face, and you gently tapped his thigh with your hand before sitting upright.

"As much as I miss Vincent… and will continue to miss him, the best way to get back at Hades is to get help and make a full recovery. Once I become the best damn journalist this city has ever seen, he'll regret ever wanting to get rid of me in the first place."

You looked down at the watch upon your wrist, seeing that it was nearing six in the evening. You would have to leave now if you wanted to get to the appointment with the therapist on time; despite not wanting to leave your lover's side, you gave a soft sight and rose to your feet. Stefano stood up alongside you, grabbing your hands within his own and bringing them to his lips to place tender kisses upon them.

"Si, amore mio. After your appointment, I'd enjoy it if you returned here. Perhaps you might stay the night? Of course… that's only if you feel like doing so."

Admittedly, you hadn't been up for doing much of anything intimate with Stefano ever since the accident. You had shut yourself off from him, aside from the occasional phone call (such calls were always initiated by him, mostly to check up on you and make sure you were alright). However, you knew that in order to heal, you had to step up and see this therapist first, and then allow yourself to move on in every way that you knew how. Spending the night with Stefano would be one of those steps towards recovery, even if it seemed silly to most people. You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, and then leaned in and pressed your lips against his own; you lingered there for a moment, enjoying the physical connection between the two of you, and then finally pulled away as a small smile donned your face.

"I'd enjoy that, Stefano."

In truth, the idea of being held by him and touched by him again was something that was becoming more enjoyable with each moment you spent thinking about it. You had experienced little to no human contact in the past month, and you were feeling the need to be comforted physically—who better to provide such comfort than Stefano? You felt him grab one of your hands a bit tighter, releasing the other as he began to gently pull you forward and lead you towards the entrance of his studio; once there, he pulled you close and gave a kiss to your cheek.

"I'll be waiting right here for you, amore mio."

=2=

'Goddamn, it's cold…'

You pulled your hood over your head as you wandered down the streets of Krimson City for the third time that day, your teeth chattering slightly within your maw; it had been years since the city had been this cold so early on into the winter season, but you were dealing with it as best as you could. You had to admit that you regretted putting on only a hoodie before heading in to the office earlier in the morning, but there wasn't much you could do about it now; you tugged your trembling hand from within the confines of your hoodie pocket, squinting slightly in an attempt to see the address that had been written down on the paper Hades had given you that morning.

1259 Ruben Street, Suite 101.

You looked up from the paper for a moment, seeing that you were currently on Adamsdale Avenue; you stopped walking, making a mental map of the city within your mind as you attempted to picture just where Ruben Street was in relation to where you currently were. If you were remembering right, it was the next street north, which meant the traffic light you were en route towards was the marker for the street you were looking for.

'This would have been so much easier if I didn't leave my phone in my apartment… I'm so stupid.'

You sighed deeply before continuing on your trek, folding up the paper and putting it back into your pocket as you trudged onwards towards the traffic light. You heard a deep rumble from overhead, and tilted your head back just in time to see a flash of light dash across the dark, cloud-riddled sky.

'Shit… and I forgot to check the damn weather, too? Everything is just going right today, isn't it?'

You furrowed your brows, clenching your fist around the paper within your pocket as you drew nearer to the traffic light. As soon as you got to the crosswalk, you glanced up and saw that you were indeed at Ruben Street; this relieved you slightly as it meant your wandering was nearly over, and you attempted to locate the building that you were supposed to enter on the other side of the crosswalk. Unfortunately, you were unable to see the building numbers due to being across the street, and you sighed as you waited alongside several other city-goers for the crosswalk to allow you to pass safely. Once the little man beckoned you to cross, you hastily made your way over to the other side of the street and began scanning for numbers.

1257.

So the building you were looking for was the next one over. You gave a small smile, knowing that you were close to finally being able to relax for a moment, and then paced down the sidewalk to the building marked 1259. You glanced down at your watch, seeing that you had about five minutes to spare, and then took a deep breath before opening the door and heading into the building.

Despite being relatively dark on the inside, it was pretty homey. Several antique lamps rested upon the various tables that lined the hallway walls, and an older woman sat behind what appeared to be a receptionist desk a few feet from where you currently stood. You saw a flight of stairs leading upwards on the right side of the receptionist desk, and a little ways past that was an elevator for the handicapped. After relishing in the warmth that that building provided for only a few moments, you made your way forward and gained the attention of the woman sitting behind the desk in the process; she gave you a gentle smile, her eyes dulled with age, but still glistening with genuine care and happiness.

"Good evening, sweetheart. Are you looking for any suite in particular?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm looking for suite 101."

"Sure thing, sweetie. Head down that hallway right there, and it will be the second door on the right. Let me know if you need anything else at all, okay?"

"I will, ma'am. Thank you very much."

You managed to give her a small smile, which earned you another one of hers in return. It was nice to meet such a kind woman right after walking in the doors; perhaps this visit wouldn't be as bad as you originally thought it would be. You padded down the carpeted hallway that the woman had pointed towards, not having to go very far before arriving at the door that she had spoken about; you curled your fingers into your palm and raised your fist to rap gently upon the door, but before you had the chance, it opened to reveal the person that had been residing within.

"Good evening. You must be (First Name) (Last Name), correct?"

The person before you was a young Asian woman, her long, black hair cascading over her shoulders while her earthly-brown eyes wandered your figure. She, unlike like the lady that had been sitting behind the receptionist desk, gave you a smile that felt hollow. It appeared she was attempting to be welcoming, but there was something about her smile that just felt forced, and the way that she looked at you was almost like she was studying you. It was a bit unnerving to say the very least, but you figured it was only because you had just met her and she was trying to get a good feeling for what she was going to be working with. Perhaps her demeanor would change the more the two of you spoke; after all, you would undoubtedly have to return to her for more therapy sessions.

Finally deciding to answer her question, you gave a small nod of your head. She gave a hum of acknowledgment, and then extended her hand forward in a gesture of greeting.

"My name is Yukiko Hoffman. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

=2=

"I know, my darling… I know."

The darkness of his office was something that he had desperately missed; it had been quite some time since the fickle bird of inspiration had returned to him, and he wasn't about to let the time he had with it go to waste. He hummed softly as he ran his gloved thumb over the lens of his beloved camera with a feather-light touch, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he saw his own reflection within it.

"It's been far too long since you and I have created a true masterpiece together… but don't worry. My beloved (Name) has inspired me to go above and beyond anything I have ever created before, and with enough time, my creation will be fully realized."

Being ever-so-careful, Stefano placed his camera down upon his desk and walked over to a small easel that housed a large sketchbook upon it; he scowled at whatever previous image he had been doodling upon it, cursing himself for ever believing such a thing would ever surpass the idea that was currently coming into fruition within his mind, and tore the paper away from the book to create a clean page for him to work upon. He grabbed a pencil from the cup that held his drawing utensils on a small stool nearby, then sighed softly to himself before beginning to draw an outline for his latest creation.

"Amore mio… this creation will be my ultimate masterpiece. You've given more than this photographer could ever desire to have, and what have I done for you? Niente… but not any longer. My magnum opus will be dedicated to you, my dear (Name)…"

He followed the tip of his pencil with his eye, allowing his heart to guide his strokes across the paper; it was only when he was nearly lost in his own creation that a gentle knock from the entrance to his studio drew him out of his trance, and he had to force himself to stop drawing for the time being. Despite only being partially drawn-out, Stefano had never been more proud of a creation in all the time he had been creating such artistry—but, for now, it would have to wait. He placed his pencil down, softly touching the outline with the tips of his gloved fingers before hastily removing his gloves and placing them down upon his desk. He then withdrew from his office entirely, making sure that the door was locked behind him; he didn't need you discovering his newest piece of artwork. Not yet.

He walked over to the door, turning the handle and opening it to reveal you; you were partially wet and shivering from how cold it was outside, and you gave him a tiny smile.

"H-hey. Can I come inside? I'm freezing."

"Of course, mia cara."

He pressed his back against the door to allow you in, then shut the door behind you once you were inside. He glanced over at the clock in his kitchen, seeing that it was now nine-thirty seven. Had it really been that long since you had left? He had lost track of time once he had begun coming up with his newest creation. He returned his attention to you, seeing that you were simply standing near the doorway to his bedroom and looking at one of the photographs he had hung up on the wall beside the entryway. He could see you trembling due to being cold, and he gave a soft sigh before slowly pacing over behind you and wrapping his arms around your frame. He brought his chin to rest upon your shoulder, and he felt you shudder whenever you felt his breath against the shell of your ear.

"You're freezing, amore mio. Perhaps taking this off will help…"

He could hear your shuddering breath, and the way your body tensed slightly when the tips of his fingers slipped underneath the ribbing of your hoodie to caress the skin hidden beneath made him all the more eager. Just as you had missed him, he had definitely missed you—and after having such a tantalizing image of you in his mind earlier that day, alongside gaining what he could only describe as a divine form of artistic epiphany because of you, he wanted to express his gratitude in every way that he knew how. He carefully tucked his fingers underneath the bottom of your hoodie, gracefully bringing it over your head and placing it upon the couch before turning you to face him entirely.

Despite having your nude upper body to look at, he avoided it; he wanted to see you, not just your body. He brought his hand upwards, tenderly cupping your cheek within the palm while his other hand brushed a few stray strands of hair away from your eyes.

"Tell me if I'm going too far, mia cara…"

He saw a small smile tug at the corners of your lips, and you gave a nod of your head. He felt your hand come to rest on his chest, and it wasn't too long after that before he felt the button on his jacket come undone.

"I want this, Stefano. We can talk about my session in the morning… but right now, I want to be held by you. I just… I need you."

Before he could respond, he felt your lips press against his own in a kiss that was undoubtedly filled with desire. He felt your hand come to rest on the back of his head, and he shuddered upon feeling your fingers delve into his hair and your nails gently scratch at his skin. He placed a hand on the small of your bare back, bringing you against his body as he returned the kiss with growing hunger.

What the night would bring would leave you tired and breathless, but the comfort of being held in your lover's arms and hearing him whisper sweet nothings into your ear after such an intimate session was more than you could ever ask for.

=2=

R. B.

RE: STEM Candidate #10044

Name: (First Name) (Last Name)

Despite initial concerns about this Candidate's mental health after their traumatic experience, the Candidate has proven to be relatively resilient. After examining the live feed from the Candidate's 'therapy' session, and consulting with Dr. Hoffman, we have come to the sound conclusion that the Candidate is a suitable one. Though they were prone to emotional outbursts throughout the session (mostly small bouts of sobbing or irritation), such actions can easily be remedied upon first entry into STEM. Other than dealing with the mental issues set in place by the actions of our own foundation against their close friend, this Candidate displayed no significant psychological issues or detrimental illness. Their background check shows both adoptive parents to be deceased, and the only other person to potentially raise concern at their disappearance is also a Candidate to be tested within the coming weeks; should Candidate #10045 pass their profiling as well, the Recruitment Board recommends Candidate #10044 for STEM insertion.

P.S.: Should this Candidate be inserted into STEM, sufficient funds have been set aside to deal with their former employer. Please contact the Administrator directly if you have further questions.

=2=

Author's Note (1):

- Amore mio: My love

- Niente: Nothing

Author's Note (2): I would like to thank each and every reader that has supported me this far into the story. I've hit a milestone of 10 chapters with this upload, alongside another milestone of 60k+ words. This is by far the longest and most intricate story I've ever written, and having all of you guys here to support me really means a hell of a lot. I read each and every comment that you guys add to this story, and it's so wonderful to have such amazing people supporting me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.