The Price of Protection

Chapter 30~ Love is Poison

CÉLINE: (Under Editing)

It's a strange sort of dance that we do, Marius and I. These past several weeks when he brings me the bitter coffee I've now become accustomed to, we will chat or sit in an unexplainably comfortable silence before he goes to work-- however the boss of the mafia 'goes to work'. He came in a few weeks ago, just after the new year, and had brought me coffee. It had been so nerve-wracking. Of course, I had assumed that he had bad news to share and after several silent moments of sitting in the armchair across from him-- he had gestured to the couch next to him, but I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction-- I told him just to get it over with. He had lazily lifted his brows at me in question:

Flashback:

"Whatever you're here to tell me", I say, "Just tell me."

"Do you have something you want me to say?"

"Aren't you here to give me news of something? Mesrine?"

He shakes his head slightly, a calm sort of blankness on his face.

"Is Quinn okay? Remi? Andre?"

His smile is almost unnoticeable, "You are worried for Andre? Are you such good friends now?"

"You didn't answer my question!" I say indignantly.

"Everyone is fine." It's a matter of fact statement . He leans forward setting is black coffee on the small table between us with a clinking noise that sounds loud in the awkward silence. He leans against the back of the sofa and sighs, turning to look out the window and interlacing his fingers across his midsection as he slumps down slightly. He almost looks...normal. His dark curls have been tended to this morning and are styled and trimmed to perfection. The lines of stubble on his face have been shaved and his skin look smooth and unbothered.

"So you're here to..." I don't really ask I just let the half spoken question linger in the air.

It takes him a minute before he speaks, "I am here, mon ange, because it's quiet..." he hesitates while he turns to look at me with a side gaze, "and it seems...lonely to never have someone to speak to."

I'm baffled, "Are you referring to you? Or to me?" I don't know why I voiced it, but both answers would have different emotional responses, I suppose, so I need to know. He doesn't answer, but the look he gives me almost looks apologetic? Me then. I clear my throat, "Well, it can be." I say in answer to his unspoken response. He only huffs in understanding. It was almost a laugh, no full smiles today though.

Sipping at my coffee now, I revel in the good quality of the coffee beans and close my eyes to savor those first few sips. Without intending to I let out a soft satisfied moan which has me blushing even before I snap my eyes open to where Marius is aiming the most handsome side smile I've ever seen. I would probably be more embarrassed if I weren't so distracted by his face. What happened to the good ole days where only his accent was attractive to me? I think.

He nods with his head, "It is to your liking then? Such a bitter drink?"

Throwing my hand to my chest in mock offense, I gasp dramatically, "How dare you speak about this life-giving, soul restoring drink like that. Take it back!"

A chuckle comes out of his of him as his brow knits together in amused confusion, "I do not plan to ever take it back, my dear, that dark abyss of crushed angst tastes like mud."

I can't help but laugh a little but then my smile fades as I lift only my eyes from my still-steaming mug to meet his eyes, "Don't call me that," I whisper.