Piero Barone Imagines

"I thought there would always be enough time."

The sound of your heels touching the ground echoed in the empty, dim lit street.

After a very unpleasant dinner in New York and an even more unpleasant heated argument outside the restaurant, you slapped Piero and started running as fast as the heels would allow you.

You had fallen so deep in your thoughts, that you turned the wrong way and found yourself lost in a maze of dark alleyways.

Every time you turned and met a dead end you felt your heart rate rising and nearly desperate, you started running again, not to relieve the pressure this time, but to get out of the labyrinth of fear.

Angry voices could be heard, shouting intimidating words. Soon, the voices were silenced and the sound of guns firing echoed in the alleyway.

The momentary fear you felt from the sound gave its place to something even worse.

Terror.

As your body started shutting down, your hands touched the spot where the bullet hit you, just bellow your chest.

The last thing you saw was the starry sky of New York.

Piero was frantically running through the alleyways, trying to find you. He knew you took a wrong turn and feared that your stubbornness -both yours and his- would turn out too bad for you.

When he heard the shot he ran even more faster with only one thought in his mind.

You.

He took a last turn and rested against a wall to catch his breath. The street was even darker than the other ones and his vision needed time to adjust to the dimness.

When he was able to make his surroundings out, the first thing he spotted was curly hair. Then, his eyes fell on a familiar dress.

He started nodding negatively as his eyes darted to the face, that even from that distance could not be mistaken.

"No, no, no, no, NO!"

From a soft whisper, his voice had become a loud cry.

He ran to your side and he felt his heart shatter to pieces, as the last hopes he had crushed.

It was indeed you.

Drops of blood fell on his face and his glasses, when he accidentally stepped into the little pool that was forming from your blood.

His jaw was trembling and his hands were shaking.

He picked you up bridal style and held you close to his chest, large bloodstains appearing on his white shirt.

He wished he had the thread of Ariadne with him to help him find his ways back to the restaurant, to help.

A cab appeared miraculously. He paid extra money to arrive as soon as possible to the nearest hospital.

He entered the ER heavily disoriented, his head madly turning from side to side, so as to spot a doctor, or at least someone who could help.

A nurse spotted him.

Before she could say anything he started talking, without taking breaths.

"Please, help me, please. She... She got shot. I can't help. I couldn't. I found her. She... Fighting... My fault. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry."

Tears appeared in his eyes. He was holding you more and more tightly with every word that left his mouth.

The nurse managed to calm him down and booked an OR for you.

He sat in the waiting room with his eyes fixed on the clock. The same conversation kept repeating in his mind. All the things that happened. All the things he could prevent, but didn't. All the things he wanted to say, but couldn't.

The same nurse approached him several hours later. With a soft smile she lead him to the ICU.

"Good Lord!" he exclaimed as he saw how severe your situation was.

"(Y/n)... (Y/n)...", he stammered.

He wanted to say something, to put all the thoughts that raced through his mind into words.

"I'm so, so sorry (y/n). I'm so sorry for everything. It's my fault. Everything is my fault. You wouldn't have been... This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for my stupidity, my stubbornness."

He started sobbing as he voiced his fear that everything could have been prevented if he had just let everything slip for once.

"I can't lose you (y/n). I just can't", he continued.

"I can't imagine my life without you. Everything I've ever wanted in my life was to be with you. And now... It was perfect... It was perfect and I ruined it. I ruined everything for you, for me, for us."

He stopped for a moment and looked at you. He held your hand and continued.

"There are so many things I want to tell you (y/n). I thought we would have our whole lives to say those things. I thought there would always be enough time. Oh how brutal can time be!"

He laughed coldly.

"It slips through your fingers when you need it the most. You keep asking for more, but more is never enough. And the time we shared together my love will never be enough. God knows I want more time (y/n). I need more time. Please (y/n). Please amore, give me more time. Give us more time. I can't think of losing you when our final words were words of hatred. Give me one more chance. Let me tell you how much I love you for one more time. I beg you. Forgive me."

His voice was cracking. The glasses were foggy. His eyes were shut, trying to hold back the tears, trying to picture a life without you, but failing miserably.

When he felt a tight grip on his palm, even if it was for one moment, his eyes opened.

The brightness returned in them. His cheeks had regained color.

The tears weren't from sadness and desperation. They were a sign of happiness.

There was hope. He was forgiven. He would get more time.

Everything would be alright.