Mafia (DNF)

Nineteen

DREAM

I felt a warm body pressed into my side, as I slowly opened my eyes. I glanced at my clock, and it was 4:50am. Ten minutes until we needed to get up.

I looked back down, and sure enough, George was curled up into my side. My arms hadn't even come close to him all night, he'd managed it all by himself.

I didn't expect him to develop a crush on me so soon, but he did, and it was painfully obvious now.

Usually, I would've taken it a step further already, maybe by taking him out and fucking him in the evening. But for some reason, something about him made me feel like I should handle him more delicately.

As if he was a glass ornament, and one wrong move could shatter him into a million pieces.

And so, I'd kept my distance (sort of) and let things go at their own pace. I also knew a part of me was doing this on purpose, because the last time I'd let my impulses take over, it had ended in a disaster.

A corner of my conscience told me I was horrible, for dragging him into all this danger and violence. Simply affiliating with me was already a threat to his life, but I'd been unable to keep my greedy hands off of him. Now one of my main rivals knew about him, and who knows what might happen.

George stirred, and I stared at his face. Full, dark lashes, framing his innocent doe-like eyes. His hair was dark and soft, and his skin was smooth and pale, perfect for marking up.

I shook the thought out of my head as his eyes slowly, and yawned. He turned onto his back, away from me, and stretched.

At that exact moment, my phone alarm went off, and he flinched.

"Jesus," he muttered. "That scared me."

I chuckled, and stopped it, sitting up. "Are you ready for another fun day at the office?" I asked.

He rubbed his eyes. "I actually got some decent sleep this time, so yes, surprisingly."

He got out of bed, hair messy and shirt riding up his waist. I found myself unable to look away, as he stretched again.

The curve of his back and waist was showing through, and when he noticed me staring, pulled the shirt down and glared.

"Staring is rude," he said matter-of-factly.

I smiled a little. "You're too pretty not to stare at. Take it as a compliment."

He was definitely blushing as he grabbed his clothes and rushed out of the room. I shook my head, still smiling.

I got up as well, and headed to the kitchen to grab some coffee. Time to start the day.