Deadly Saints [18+]

023: Daydream

|Varvara Tchenkov|

The pounding didn't want to stop, my brain pounded in different directions. I couldn't control the muscles within my body, each movement felt like something pulled me back reframing me from any further motion. Any amount of manoeuvring made me exhausted, physically draining the energy from me. Strained intakes of air filled my ears, lava poured all over my body and the sensations of my skin being boiled ignited my senses. Sweat dripped down my exposed skin, droplets upon droplets soaking my pores. I couldn't open my lids, they felt heavy and being confined to the darkness felt better than attempting the impossible. Then, like a pest feasting upon my brain. I knew I had to open them, which is what I did.

It wasn't much of difference compared to when they where shut, darkness. Only reigniting my remaining senses, the stench of death plagued my nostrils. Fuck. Everything rushed into me, the temporary amnesia fading and the true motives of my presence flooded back. This is when the anger, frustration and pure rage seeped in. Despite my exterior and personality, I wasn't oblivious to the underworld. Danger is a given in this line of work, my brother may have not ever thought of this day coming but I did.

Somehow, this felt entirely different and life threatening. Okay, I may have exaggerated the last part.

When it came to my brother, our differences varied more than the business. Everyone pegs Diavolo to be this monster just because he is at the top and feel sorry for his sister who has to live with such a creature.

I despise those cunts, who are you to judge what you don't see?

I am the sweet baby sister but I harbour the same demons like everyone else, life isn't all roses, there are thorns and you are going to get hurt. Diavolo tried his best to shield me from the evil revolving around us but you can't control everything forever. Demons bring suffering and that is what I didn't want to happen to the people I hold close to my heart, who I love. I hated seeing people in pain, watching them slowly detach from the world. Therefore, I became the sister to almost everyone that associated with the Tchenkov.

Only, I wished I didn't become a friend to one. The most beautiful, unique, charismatic and extraordinary human to ever walk the earth. He never seized to amaze me and it tugged on my heart that within this moment that he would never know my true feelings, that where more than what I led on. It is our faults; we established our connection based on pleasure but that didn't mean his entire aura didn't make me fall for him. In the face of death, the only thing I desired at this moment is his deep voice telling me bad jokes that still made me laugh.

Did he know I was gone? Did he even care?

Everyone has secrets especially in the underworld that involved drugs, sex, money and powerful men. With a protective older brother, who is currently the youngest and most ruthless mafia leader against all, hiding many things went unnoticed. It almost seemed like yesterday when I had a crush on this boy at the age of sixteen and because he was a descendant of a famous Italian family, Diavolo threatened the poor boy and I mean the life or death kind of threats. To this day, I have no idea if he went with the later option.

My brother, the ruthless, powerful mafia leader. Is also my saviour, despite many obstacles that gave him plenty reason to disown me, to abuse me, to end me. He didn't, he remained the loving and caring brother that I knew since birth. There wasn't a moment in life that I felt I lacked any affection after our lives changed, Diavolo did everything to make my life as simple as possible. Often the thought would keep me up at night, at such a young age he had to sacrifice a lot to become a parent towards his little sister.

That's why I admire him, aspire to be like him.

The Tchenkov are a family, occupied by different characters that often clash with others but in the end, we are a dysfunctional family that will die for each other, literally. But I knew the first time I met him. I could recall the moment my heart stopped beating. He didn't resemble the typical persona of the men that I was surrounded by on a daily basis.