I MARRIED A GANGSTER: [2018 EDITION]

Fourteen

I was sure that sleeping on the couch was bad for Francesco. I saw how he crouched around as if he couldn't stand up straight and how he turned his whole body to look to his side rather than just his head. I was beginning to feel bad for him, and it was only his first night on the couch.

When I woke up this morning I pretended to still be asleep as Francesco stirred on the couch. He had woken up, stretched, complained to himself, and began getting ready.

I even laid in bed as he showered and when he got out, I shamelessly watched him strip off his towel and pull on boxers and a shirt.

Francesco was extremely sexy, he was tall and he seemed to be a man who stayed fit. Of course, he didn't have an eight-pack or anything but he was finely muscled. He had light dustings of hair on his chest that he seemed to let grow on.

His hair was curly and he abandoned shaving since I'd known him which made him look slightly aged than he was. He wasAdonis in flesh.

Once he exited the room, I decided to sit upright in bed and 'wake up'. Cara was still at home and she would be until the wedding. I mentally felt like it would be more than difficult to deal with Caraby myself, but I was sure I could do it.

Maybe.

I climbed out of the bed and brushed my hands through my hair. Deciding to shower later, I threw on another one of many sundresses my mom had packed for me and some sandals.

The humidity in the air was strong enough that makeup would be pointless to put on. Instead, I went downstairs as is.

Halfway down I was greeted with the smell of crisp bacon and another mixture of foods. Cara was cooking again.

When I turned into the kitchen, I was shocked to see Francesco in the kitchen, with white sleeves rolled up as he placed bacon onto the pan.

I smiled at him, "Good morning."

There was no one else in the kitchen, and I was left to assume that they were all sleeping but it was half past ten, so I couldn't understand why.

"Good morning, Eleanor. Would you like to help?" Francesco asked.

"I can't cook," I mumble.

He only smirks slightly, "I can teach you."

I exhale deeply and walked over to where Francesco stood.

"We are making an English breakfast. It usually consists of bacon, sausage, tomatoes, eggs, and toast." Francesco explained, "Grab that package of meat and cut the sausages in half."

I did what Francesco told me to do. He seemed comfortable taking charge of a situation and I didn't mind it at all.

Francesco was humming to himself while he cut the potatoes in half and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking.

"You seem to be in a lighter mood today," I commented, trying not to look like I was not prying. Yet, Francesco being in a good mood was something that I love.

I was just beginning to understand that Francesco was an enigma. He had different moods and with each different emotion, he was a different man. This was my favorite Francesco.

"I am not thinking about work, so it is causing my mood to shift," Francesco said simply.

"If work makes you so grumpy, then why do it?" I asked.

Francesco was silent for a few moments, "You ask a good question, unfortunately, I have no answer."

I smile, "The man who controls a kingdom is speechless."