The bed should be soft and warm, but it isn't.
I roll out of bed and walk out of the bedroom. Reaching Anthony's office, my fist lifted, and I knocked on the door. "Come in," his deep metallic voice dripped in the silence.
Twisting the knob, I open the door and reveal a working Anthony. That's all he had been doing, work. "What is it?" he asks, not once lifting his eyes from the papers. I never expected the mafia leader to be doing so much paperwork.
I stand outside the office, running my fingers down the sleeves of my shirt. "Are you not coming to bed?"
Finally, he raises his head. "You're not asleep?"
"It's...cold tonight," I mumble, as his eyes scan my shorts. It's a terrible lie, considering how warm it is inside the mansion that I'm able to wear shorts and walk around barefoot.
He didn't reveal any emotions towards my statement, instead set the pen down. Anthony stands up and walks toward me as I bounce my weight from one foot to another. "Come on, I'll take you to bed." His soothing voice entered my ear as he held my hand and led me back into the bedroom.
Once we enter the bedroom, he releases my hand and begins walking towards the door. I hold onto his shirt. "You're not sleeping?"
He turned around, and a heavy breath left his chest. "I got work to do," his voice was neither endearing nor cold rather it felt empty.
I held onto him tighter. "Can't you finish it tomorrow?" I know the selfishness of my words, but I can't help but plead.
Unexpectedly, he placed a hand on my head and ran it down my hair. My cheeks puff in a pouting kind of sense, but I didn't reject his touches. "I'll be in the bathroom for a little while," he said, and I released him.
When he enters the bathroom, I smile and rush under the sheets. The sink water turns off and the door opens. I could feel his arm draped over me, more comforting than any blanket I had ever lay under. His musky scent intoxicates me.
I had been hugged before, but never like this since my parents passed. I let my body sag; my muscles become loose. Anthony always manages to give me the respect of an equal but cradles me like a cherished child. Twisting and turning around the sheets, I face him in the darkness. I feel him brush my hair back with his fingers and kiss me gently. I ran my hand over his back, the soft hairs on his head tickled the tips of my fingers. "I'm sorry," those words manage to slip in the silence.
His eyes remained unchanged. "I don't want you to apologize for something that's not your fault."
In his eyes, I saw my reflection. It's me who has changed. Not on the outside, but on the inside. Anthony had always been the same since the beginning, but somehow I changed. Moreover, as I look at myself, in his electric eyes glistening with love for me, I feel like this wasn't real - it must be a dream.
"I...I didn't mean to react the way I did a few days ago. I...I...I -" I'm at a loss for words, unable to find any excuse in my actions. We already established what Anthony does in his life, and yet somehow I still cannot see it in myself to accept it.
His skin touched mine. "You'll always be afraid of me...I understand that much," his voice is low and wonderous, so sincere and understanding.
I love you, I want to scream, but I can't find it in myself to say it.
Can I truly love someone without accepting all of him?
I cry.
I don't know how Anthony managed to do it, but he can always bring out the tears in me.
