𝐾 𝐴 𝐿 𝐸 𝑁

Chapter |9| Giving In

K A L E N  'S  P. O. V

Tessa is in my room. She's lounging across my bed, her study notes sprawled all across the comforter, a pencil jammed into the mess of hair piled on top of her head.

I want to frame this exact moment. To never forget how of full of warmth I am in this moment.

It's so natural for her to be here within my own environment. Like she was crafted specifically to fit with me.

I keep staring at her from my desk chair, even though she has told me a hundred times to stop.

Again, she feels her eyes on me and stirs, grounding me back down to reality. "Kalen seriously, stop!"

"You're just beautiful."

"No!" She cried, burrowing her face beneath the covers. I move towards, prying them away so I can see her flushed face.

"Why are you so embarrassed?" I laugh quietly.

"I'm just not used to it okay. I'm not used to guys saying things like that to me."

"We'll get used to it, because you are beautiful and I'll never stop reminding you." Her cheeks flame again but there's a smile hidden within.

"I'm so happy with you." She murmurs, burrowing into my chest. I wrap my arms around her small frame, kissing her head softly.

"Me too."

"I'm gonna grab us some drinks." I reluctantly let my hold loosen so she can slip out. It's a strange devoid coldness that fills the room after she leaves, like she's my sunshine, the only thing capable of keeping the darkness at bay.

That darkness being my job. My legacy.

I hate what I do. I hate that I can't tell anyone that because if means hurting someone I love. The mafia can be a scary place, I admit sometimes I'm terrified of what the day will bring. Yet in some ways it's also home. I laugh with the men I call family, I bond with them, I work to protect them and my family.

It's job to both fear and care about.

In my span of boredom without my girlfriend, I reach over to look through her notebook. I hate seeing her stressed, so if I know what she struggles with then maybe I can look some of this up and help her out.

I see a lot of math work. A lot of frustrated scribbles and crosses. Then I come across her drawings, funny little caricatures from in-between bored study sessions. I smile at them, laugh even as some have dialogue.

The smile fades though as I come across a college letter. Colorado. Then another. California. And another. Oregon.

All at least four hour plane rides away. All meaning she'll have to leave.

The door is pushed open with sudden bang. I quickly move to stuff the letters back in the notebook but my lack of dexterity causes them to crumple and crease as I jam them in.

"What...." The light in her voice fades as she nears me.

I watch her set down the drinks on my desk before snatching the notebook away like I had just assaulted it.

"What the hell were you doing?" It's the accusation in her tone that sparks anger.

"What are you doing? Why did I find so many college letters in there?" Why are they so far away?

"Because I'm a senior and that's my next step in life. God Kalen, you're really lecturing me when you were invading my privacy right in front of my face."