Sparrow

8

I wrote this at 2 o'clock in the morning listening to Summertime sadness and Ransom so you lovely people could wake up to a update because I love you

Serina POV

Marco was right. Lorenzo never did come to his room that night. I tossed and turned at the thought of him walking in, and what he would say and what I would reply.

But he never came to bed, Nor to bed any night for the next four days. Which I wasn't complaining about. I just watched T.V and did follow along yoga on the fitness channel to dull my boredom.

But my mind wracked as to where he was sleeping, and my head burned at the though of him in some other whores bed.

No. I don't care if he sleeps with other woman, no, it's his body and he can stick his dick anywhere he wanted. Glory holes to prostitutes, I have decided I don't give a fuck.

Fuck Lorenzo.

But I thought mafia bosses were gross old men? Why couldn't Lorenzo be unattractive and old, because then a bunch of these problems I have; I wouldn't have them

Sure I'd still be here, but I wouldn't have the problems of wanting to where he was and when he was coming back.

I had to physically restrain myself from asking someone, not that I thought they would even tell me. Because why would they.
There were guards outside the door, and they would come in and check that I was still alive ever hour.

I'd hidden one time, under the bed and they went insane trying to find me. Calling in that I had escaped again. But then I crawled out like a lizard person and jumped on ones back while he wasn't looking.

He was—unsurprisingly—unaffected by my efforts, even as I flicked his ear and combed his hair with my fingers. The other men shaking their head and talking into their radios that they had and I quote

"Found the minx." I think that's my name here, which I don't get. Yes I'm cunning and boldly flirtatious, but I wasn't as you would say Seductive.

I was awkward when it came to that stuff. Sleeping with people and barely looking at their faces? Easy. But actually having conversations with men-ha laughable.

I'd never cared to know the people I've slept with, and they didn't care to know me. We'd meet in a bar, and what else do I really have to say. We would fuck. Meaningless, home by morning kind of thing.

It was always so much easier that way.

There was a knock on the door, and I smiled. The guards were back to play. "Sorry I'm fisting myself come back later." I yelled, as I jumped on the bed, listening to it squeak.

Even though I gave my warning, the door still opened. "Glad to see you weren't actually-" Marco smiled as he and another man walked in.

"Fisting myself?" I finished his sentence for him and he shook his head. Looking to the man he was with I was slightly shocked.

The other man looked chiseled and fit, I mean It looked like I could slice my finger on his sharp ass jawline if I tried. "Is everyone here hot as fuck?" I asked as I Inspected him,

He had curly hair, it was blond. The man's eyes were green, but turned more blue in the light—and had a archers bow that was refined. He had something about him though, something I couldn't point out.

He raised an eyebrow at me as he too looked me over. "She's the one who causes so much trouble? Really?" He asked as he looked over to Marco who nodded, as I crossed my arms
"she looks harmless enough." The man continued.