Black Death And White Roses (1) Mafia Romance

13. Crush/ed

Roxana

Some light smut ahead, be aware.

And here I stand, dumb, blushing, recently escaped from a death threat and with someone else's piss all over me.

Oh my God, how gross; it just dawns on me.

But getting over this and the life-threatening situation, I finally learned this guy's name and blushed like a teenager.

Hmm, would it be so bad if I maybe asked him out on a date or so? Would he accept or would I just embarrass myself?

Girl, slow down, he might be gay or married with children as far as you know.

My internal monologue is interrupted by a knock on the door. I starle and open to see... rooftop... well Marco stretching out a hand holding a black shirt.

"Here. I don't think we have women's clothing around but you can wear this to sleep. The maids will wash your clothes till tomorrow. Okay?"

I don't manage to bring a word out, just look at him dumbfounded. Yes, it makes sense now that he says it.

"Ok, if you don't want it I will take it back. It's not that warm today but if you feel like sleeping naked, you do you. Just take those pants off they're disgusting. Even without the piss, they are beyond shabby," he says, trying to keep a serious face but can't help smirking.

"Gimme' that," I say, grabbing the shirt and stretching out my tongue.

"Are you... uh... okay?" he asks, again stern-faced. It sounds as if he is not used to asking this kind of questions.

"Yeah, as good as I can be after having a gun pointed at my head. But he was seemingly more afraid than I was. Jesus, I have not been peed on since my brother was a baby."

"I tend to have this effect on people," he replies, and the light and livelihood glimmer in his eyes again, but only for a few seconds till he becomes again too serious for my taste and bows his head goodbye, walking away.

I close the door and finally turn around to have a look at the room. It's simple, probably one of the rooms of the service people, but a lot better than the container I sleep in. Delighted, I take a long shower, taking advantage of the fact that this bathroom is not smurf-sized like the one in the trailer, where the shower and the bathroom are one.

It's half past twelve again when I put on the black shirt and go to bed. I can't help noticing the smell; it's obvious it's freshly washed and ironed but it retains a faint trace of perfume. Roxi, stop being a weirdo and go to sleep.

I hear a knock on the door and my eyes open in shock. It's daylight outside which means I have overslept. Fuck!

The knock again.

"Yes..."

A plump lady in her forties walks inside carrying my washed, ironed, and folded clothes. She does not wear a uniform like the other maids. I had noticed her before just that we never spoke, out of obvious reasons.

"Grazie," I say smiling at her.

"Ragazza, ho buttato via quella maglietta. Aveva buchi dappertutto./ Girl, I have thrown that t-shirt away. It had holes all over."

"Mi scusa Signora, io non parlo italiano./ Sorry ma'am I don't speak Italian," I answer smiling apologetically.

"T-shirt. Away. Kaput," she says gesturing passionately with her hands.

Huh? Is she just explaining to me she threw my stuff away? What's with this audacity? I however catch a glimpse of the time on my watch and these details lose importance.