𝘾𝙊𝘿𝙀𝙋𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙉𝘾𝙀 - Rio x Reader

•Chapter 8•

You subconsciously press the pen a bit harder into the pad clasped in your hand to get the shaking under control. A few moments tick by between his question and your response- the tightness of your throat releasing as you get your bearings.

"I did what you asked. What are you doing here?", your tone is hushed as you look over your shoulder to check for any onlookers- you don't find any.

He leans back into the booth, eyes dancing from your shoes, up your legs and torso, and finally back up to meet your gaze. You feel your breath get caught in your throat- suddenly your dress feels a foot shorter than it had seconds prior.

"Can't exactly get into your place right now with all his people watching."

"That's what you wanted, right? You told me to tell him everything and I did. You should have known what he was going to do.", you become increasingly more agitated every second he sits in your presence.

He nods shortly and watches as you stuff your notepad and pen back into your apron.

"Yeah, but I'm gonna need another favor."

You shake your head immediately- wanting nothing else to do with the man sitting in front of you.

"No."

He grins. Your heart skips a beat and you do your best to stand your ground and not hit the door running.

"No?", he asks, amusement continues to play on his features.

Rio leans forward, propping his elbows onto the table, the smile slipping away. He watches as you cross your arms and notices the rise and fall of your chest has picked up the pace.

"I wasn't asking."

You're more exasperated than scared, though you are unmistakably terrified. It feels as if you've been taken for everything you have and are still being asked for more. You know there's no way out of this- he's going to get what he wants.

"I can't.", your voice is pleading.

You can't handle any more stress. You've been in a constant state of panic ever since you met him. This feels like the type of stress that gives someone a heart attack- as if you needed any more of that added onto your plate.

"Oh, but you can. It's simple, nothin' you can't handle."

You scoff and shake your head.

"What do you know about what I can handle?"

The tension fallen between the two of you could be cut with a knife. Just when you think he's going to get angry and shove a gun in your face again, he chuckles.

"I know enough."

Your eyes flick to the tattoo along his throat, and back to meet his gaze after catching yourself.

"I need you to deliver something for me."

His eyes do some wandering of their own yet again, but this time it's quick, not as long and drug out as he had done minutes ago- but just as last time they travelled from your shoes and back up to your eyes.

"What is it?"

"You ask a lot of questions, you know that?"

He stands up from the booth before you can respond and you're quickly reminded of how much taller he is than you. He looks down at you, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black bomber jacket. He is way too close for your comfort, only about a foot separates his chest from yours. The smell of his cologne enters your nose for the first time- it's smoky and laden with spice. You subconsciously hold your breath- wanting no more memories of his characteristics to stain your mind.