It was a cold and dark night in November over in Burlone. The weather never was too harsh in that part of Italy, but there was still a chill in the air which is very difficult to ignore.
Some dull sounds could be heard from the first floor of the Francesca villa, but they were so faint one would need to be quite close to it to notice at all. Other than that, the city lay in complete silence.
Nicola climbed the stairs to his house slowly, one step at a time, both mindful of the noise and weary from the long night. As he reaches the front door of his bedroom, he wastes no time dawdling around. He enters it swiftly but quietly, closing the door behind him with a soft click, making sure to lock it behind him.
He leaned against its frame as he realized his fiancée was lying asleep in his bed, peaceful and completely undisturbed. He stood silently, watching her as she breathed. Her chest rising up, then falling down with each inhale and exhale.
The blond mafioso let out a soft sigh, grateful that Lili is left unharmed and unbothered by what transpired in the living room. He glanced down at the pistol at his waist, which might be clean and shiny now, but not even an hour ago it was drenched with the blood of the assassins sent for him, an increasingly common occurrence these days. The black shirts might be establishment now, but they have not forsaken their underhanded methods of the past.
As constant threats remained in his blasted line of work, he lived in perpetual fear that one day they would find her before he could properly neutralise the offending party. As the name and the fear of the Falzone family grow fainter by the day, as the State becomes the big bad in the life of the common people, as talks of war in Ethiopia dominate the newspapers, old and new enemies grow ever bolder, and the possibilities of going underground become increasingly scarce.
He has managed to evade any attempts so far, but, to his horror, it only takes one. One unlucky day, one stealth assassin, one bullet, and then it is all over.
Groaning, the only physical sign of weariness after fighting, Nicola pushed himself from the wall, and made his way to the bath, where he attempted to wash away all signs of the evening's events. His clothes are unsalvageable, but that is rather normal for him. He would have his butler burn them at dawn.
It was a bit more of a waste for his living room. He lost another vase, as well as a rug and a couch to the scuffle. He always offers for Lili to replace the broken items, under the guise of him wanting her to make his house more like her, for her to take ownership of the place. However, one of the casualties was a recent purchase of hers, and he wonders if his pretence will hold this time.
Perhaps it never did, but she did him a kindness by pretending, too. He must admit it brings him more peace of mind than he cares to admit.
Dressed in his night clothes, his many layers now hanging in his closet, his pistol still by his side, Nicola climbed into the bed, careful to not wake his fiancée.
His breath hitched when he saw that Lili is dressed in his shirt, the top buttons left open, exposing the smallest hint of her cleavage. They might have already been intimate, many times in fact, but her beauty always surprises him in different angles and circumstances.
His arms reached out to her, but he pulled away quickly. He did not want to wake the woman, who undoubtedly had a busy day as well, but he enjoyed this sense of… Well, this sense of happiness that he felt in her presence.
Nicola can barely wait for the day he will marry this woman.
Rolling over in her sleep, her eyes blinked open. Lili gasps in surprise to find Nicola lying in bed next to her. It must be later than she realises, but she still must have dozed off sometime after midnight, as she waited for his return.
"You're back..." She points out, her voice hoarse from sleep.
As her cognitive functions increasingly return to her, she becomes startled by an obvious realisation. She had fallen asleep in his bed while waiting for him to return to his room, which was certainly improper of her. She might be sleeping over at his house alone tonight, and they might have done much more than just lying together, but that is no excuse to be impolite and poach the bed.
Lili sat up, suddenly alert despite the late hour.
"I should go... Back to my room." She says, in spite of some dizziness.
"Stay." He said, holding her wrist firmly, preventing her from leaving.
"Nicola, I…" She begins, before being cut off rather abruptly.
"Stay." He repeated. "Stay here. With me."
As their eyes meet, his gaze held hers. Where there often were shards of ice, she now found pools of blue reflecting warmth and affection. He did not tell her where he went earlier, but he did not have to. She knew it was some mob business, something she might not properly understand or approve of, but which was meant to assure the continued survival of this town, his family and underlings, and her protection.
Liliana trusts Nicola. He would always protect her, and she would always be faithfully there. With him. By his side.
Cupping his cheek in her palm, the woman lovingly caressed his milky-white skin with the soft flesh pad of her thumb, wiping away the last stray drop of dried blood left on his cheek.
"Sure. Of course." She replied softly, her lips gently brushing his. "I'll stay. Always."
They slept together peacefully until morning, entangled in each other's arms.