Pretty please

69 - XXXIII

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A gun? A whole freaking ass gun!? Why the actual fuck does he have this? With who am I all this time? A criminal? A fucking murderer? A mafioso?

«Babe, I can explain» he said, while I was getting off him. I stood next to the bed and looked at the black thing in my hands, with wide eyes.

He got up and tried to get closer, but I stepped backwards. He looked at me with furrowed eyebrows. An apologetic look on his face.

«Why do you have this?» I asked weakly. I'm scared. Scared of him, scared of the gun -to be honest-, scared of what is going to happen to me.

«Baby, put that down and let meh explain» he said, stretching his arms to grab the gun. I raised it and pointed it at him, as a reflex or something. I need to protect myself. I don't even know how to hold it correctly, though. My hands are shaking.

«Y- you can explain from right there» I said, as sternly as I could. But I wanted to just start crying. I don't know why. Maybe because seeing that the man you're with for five months is a whole different person. Actually, he hasn't shown anything, but keeping a gun in your pants is not the most normal thing that you can do.

«Put. It. Down.» he almost commanded. I bit the inside of my cheek, trying not to let the tears leave my eyes, and looked straight into his eyes. I moved my head negatively.

Before I could even realize, he had grabbed the gun from my hands and placed me right in front of him. My back touching his chest. His hands had caged my arms and pressed them down, on the sides of my body. I couldn't help it anymore and burst into tears.

«Shhh baby...» he whispered and placed the gun on the bedside table. I closed my eyes and kept sobbing in his arms. He moved to the bed and sat down, placing me on top of his legs, sitting vertically.

He hugged me tightly. Tears rushing down my cheeks, that were onto his chest. He placed his chin on my head and just let me get it all out of my chest.

Once I calmed down a bit, he kissed my forehead sweetly. As much as I'm afraid and don't know what's going on, I still feel safe into his hands.

«Babe...that's not what yer might fink it is» he whispered. I pulled my head away from his chest and looked at him.

«And then what is it? Who are you?» I asked, trying not to cry again.

«I'm neither a criminal, nor a murdered, darlin'» he sighed. Should I really believe him now?

«That's what a criminal or a murderer would say».

«Well, I'm not. Really. The gun is just for safety». I raised an eyebrow at him.

«Safety? Alex, you're a freaking hotel owner! Not a mafia boss! Plus that you have bodyguards follow you everywhere».

«Me guards don't follow meh everywhere. I go to places by me own. Or with just you. I don't want to get neither of us in danger, baby. I have many antagonists that would love to take meh out of the game. Or just common people. Think of it. Someone could easily kidnap meh and then ask someone who's close to meh for money. They would give 'em me money. And then what? Would they just let me? No! They would probableh kill meh. Or they could even kidnap you and ask meh for money and then just fookin' kill you. You know that I don't want that, and neither do you. I need to protect both of us» he explained in a low tone.