DaSilva's Sister (Morris Delancey x Reader)

Chapter 20

19 July 1899

Y/N's POV

It was very early in the morning, probably around three o'clock. I just couldn't sleep, a thousand thoughts ringing in my ears of the stand we were about to take today, Spot's words too.

"just wanted ta make sure ya knew that you's the reason I ain't joinin' ya little strike."

His support is contingent on the success of today. My mind is running.

I stepped outside for some air and as I looked onto the streets of New York, I beheld the sight of the city that truly never sleeps.

While the streets were not quite as bustling as usual, as New York tends to go, there was an energy in the air that just wouldn't quite die down.

I felt arms wrap around me from behind and all but jumped out of my skin. At these hours in the streets of New York, there is no comfort in a random presence.

The face I saw eased my worries.

"Ya scared da hell outta me, Mo!"
"Sorry princess," he drawled, a smirk on his face.

"I believe ya got da wrong girl," I joked.
"Nonsense, you're the princess of papes," he immediately remarked as though he had been waiting to use that one.

He spun me around in his arms and started kissing all over my face. I laughed feeling suddenly bashful, burying my face into his chest.

He started playing with my hair, "What's my beautiful girl doing out at this hour?"
I looked up at him feeling flushed, an uncontrollable smile forming on my face, "I could ask you the same."

He chuckled, "I asked you first."
"Haven't slept all night on account'a Spot Conlon."

He couldn't resist the joke opportunity, "Another man keepin' ya up at night, should I be worried?"
That got a small laugh out of me.

"What ya should be worried 'bout is that he knows about us."
"He what?" I felt him tense up.

"Yeah he's got eyes an' ears everywhere. Honestly I don' think he's a danger but he don't trust us. Thinks yer defectin' me an' leadin' da boys into some kinda trap."

"So you guys don't have Brooklyn," he deduced.
"Yeah an' ya know that means we don't got nobody else."

"N/N..."
"Not much ta be done 'ere, just gotta go on an' prove we's for real then we get reinforcements. It's da only way."

"Y/N, you're bringing rolled up newspapers to a gun fight. I'm sure you don't need me to tell you that The World is willing to get violent."
"We don't got no other choice. We already started it, 'f we don't follow through we's worse off than we was before."

He pulled me into a tight hug, "I don't wanna lose you. I just can't."

I kissed him and we just stayed there for a moment.
"We's always been a risk doin' this thing togetha. This strike, 'm scared'a what this means for us. Feels like a Montague an' Capulet situation."

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet," he quoted.
I gave him a laugh, "I'm impressed that ya know that by heart but they both die at the end."

"Let's rewrite the script for our story. Or at least for the sake of my sanity, pretend we can."

He kissed my forehead tenderly before pulling me back into his chest.

"Mo?"
"Hm?"
"You still haven't told me what you's doin' out here?"

He sighed, "Needed to escape the strike talk. My father's got big plans to capitalise on what he hopes will be a bloodbath."
I winced.