Soil what is beautiful. Spit your bile into the chalice and force those beneath you to drink deep. Make them hail you on their knees with a holy bullet poised at their temple. They will whisper your name in fear of being smitten by those you have infected with your ideologies. You drive them with lawless admissions of Dionysian delights and lap up those promises like dogs at the proverbial tablecloth.
You believe you are King, yet kings only rule in their corner of the world. Tyrants only live as long as their subjects' will to endure. Desperation births revolutionists, and I am the daughter of that tyranny. You may subjugate me as you do the others, but I am not blinded by fear. My eyes are clear of the fog of emotion. The only one I know now is hate, revenge—and my heart is cold with it.
He hovers beside me like a spectre haunts those it has left suddenly in life. I know what is in his heart, but I don't have the capacity to feel that at the moment. I stand in the alley outside the hideout of Passione's human trafficking ring. I grip my knives hard at my sides and my body shakes with the adrenaline.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" He pushes up his glasses. Even he is uncertain. He is an assassin but he has never upset the status quo quite like what I have in mind. His squad is already at the bottom of the food chain and has earned the disdain of the Boss. These petty politics mean nothing to me. I have one goal. One price that must be paid and I am here to collect.
"Go home. It will be easier that way."
"Fuck no. I'm not leaving you here alone. Formaggio and Prosciutto will skin me alive."
"I don't need you here."
"I think you need that now more than anything."
"Ghiaccio, I won't hold back if you stand in my way."
"I'm not stopping you. I'm just advising you to rethink your strategy. How is barging in there going to result in anything other than a bullet to the head?"
"As long as I take as many with me as I can, it will be worth it," I replied, knowing that his next words would be heated.
"Do you even know how many stand users are in there?! These guys know what they're doing, traffickers are a dirty business and they will do anything to protect their profit and supply."
"Their supply." I roll the word in my mouth, the disgusting euphemism. "You sound just like them."
"It may sound heartless…" he pauses before continuing, "but I'm just being realistic."
"I know what the world is really like. It's far too late for you to try and protect me now."
"I'm just…" He sighs and starts again. "I'm just trying to look out for you."
How funny. "That's the last thing I need."
"You will die in there!" He snaps.
"Some things are worse than dying," I say quietly. I feel him watching me carefully. "Do you know what it's like to not possess your own body? Your own soul?"
He clenches his jaw and swallows all the arguments he'd had ready. Then he huffs through his nose.
"I thought not." I turn and walk toward the door.
"Wait!" A tight pressure on my arm.
—Listen to me when I'm talking to you, bitch!
My knife is to his throat before I can comprehend who has grabbed me or where I am. He backs up into the wall and looks down at me through his glasses. "Calm down."
"Don't. Touch me." My mind reels trying to catch up with the image in front of me. It's only Ghiaccio. He holds perfectly still under my blade and calms himself, likely in an attempt to put me at ease. My heart races.
I am far from at ease.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." He raises his hands slowly. I know he has the strength and the ability to bring me down in an instant should he so choose. The thought unsettles me. I wouldn't be able to fight him, just as I was not able to fight back then. Suddenly the sight of the muscle on his body makes me tense. "It's just I don't want to see you hurt."
"I already hurt. Everyday."
"I know. I see it. I wish I could do something."
"Help me kill them."
"I—will that really help you though, long term?" He licks his lips and glances at the door. "It will feel good in the moment but—"
"They wreck more lives every day. Are you going to say I shouldn't?" I snap. I'm tired of hearing him drag his feet. He's a fucking assassin. He knows bloodlust. "This isn't just about me."
"I know." He takes a breath and holds my gaze. "It's selfish."
"Selfish? How fucking dare you—"
"Not you. Me." His face sets into a stern expression, one that he often wears but now it is tinged with concern. "My reasons for not wanting you to go are selfish."
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I can't do this right now.
"I don't want to lose you tonight." Ghiaccio squints. He's trying not to cry, but I can see the fight in him waning.
"Don't. Not now." I can't look at him anymore. If I look, my resolve will crumble. I just want to collapse into his arms and expel everything vile within me, but I can't. I have to fight. I can't stop now when I'm this close.
"If you walk through that door without me, I will never get another chance." His voice is strong until the last word when it wavers ever so slightly.
"Ghiaccio…"
"I love you. And if you truly insist that nothing else will help but this…" He throws his hands up to gesture at the building then looks back at me. "Then I will kill every one of those fuckers inside and start a gang war for you."
At first, I can't move. His words have rooted me in place. He would risk his life and place in this world for me. I step forward and wrap my arms around his neck as tears slip before I can stop them. I barely whisper, "Thank you."
He returns the hug and rests his head on my shoulder. "I don't anticipate us living through this, which is why I needed you to know."
I pull away to look at his face then lean in to kiss him. This is something I've always wanted but never let myself have. He, too, knows the dangers of this, which means he truly thinks this will be our last night together.
Our lips part, but he doesn't pull away.
"Come back with me…" he whispers.
"You know I can't. I need this."
"Then why not wait and we'll all take them out. Let La Squadra back you."
"I don't want to get you guys involved."
"But I'm already involved. You want me to go in there."
"Ghiaccio…" I pull away. I can't handle the guilt trip right now, because I know he's right. If I really love him, I wouldn't put him in danger like this.
But I'm so fucking hollow.
I want the pain to stop, and I'm willing to die to do it.
"Listen!" He knows he's taking a risk by grabbing my arms again but he's too worked up to hesitate. He just doesn't want me to go. And I don't want to leave him. He pulls me close enough that our foreheads touch and he holds my hands in his. His brow is deeply furrowed and he's clearly conflicted. "Please. Just come home with me. Please."
He's so earnest in the request, so adamant that I not leave him. It makes me not want to go.
"Let's do this together. We'll get Risotto and the Squadra and we'll decimate these fuckers from the face of the earth. Just not tonight. Come home with me tonight." He whispered his next words, "I wanna sleep beside you just once before I die. Let me be a selfish prick one last time."
I lick my lips and taste him there. I, too, want this just once. I want to be held and loved and have my body worshipped the way it never was. To taste that state of intimacy, of normalcy, just once. I want to know what it's like for the mind and body to be in tune with one another, to enjoy the sensation of another.
I lace my fingers with his.
"Fine. Take me home."
"Gladly." He guides me back to his car with a hand on my back.
I let him.