Downfall | ✔️

Chapter 51.

"This is the final boarding call for flight 372 to Italy. Please proceed to gate 3 immediately. The final checks are being completed, please have your boarding pass and identification ready, thank you."

"Ready?" he asks, his eyes scanning my face.

I nod, walking towards our allotted gate. I can't find the words to say, should I be angry? I can't be angry, it's not his fault—he tried to keep me away from this. Upset? I can't be upset, it'll only make him feel worse, I don't want that. Scared? I can't show my fear, it'll only intensify his. But I am. I am all of those things; I'm angry, that this had to happen to us. I'm upset, having to leave when things were finally coming together—and most of all, I'm completely and agonisingly terrified of what's to come.

Mason's POV:

As we wait for the plane to take off I can't shift my eyes from Amara, she bought a travel pillow at the airport, curled herself up and her eyes are closed—but she's not asleep. She's been silent ever since we started the drive here, and it's my fault. She doesn't know what to say to me, and in all honesty; I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to say either.

I knew it, deep down, that I should've stopped myself in the beginning. I shouldn't have let myself fall in love with her, I always knew this was a possibility—I just let myself forget for a while, and it felt fucking amazing. But now, she's in danger because of me. And if anything happens to her I won't be able to forgive myself. I shouldn't have loved her so much, I hate myself for letting my guard down, I hate myself for putting her in harms way.

And now I cant imagine my life without her; I can't imagine what it would be like to wake up and not have her beside me, or a phone call away. To not hear her voice and her stupid jokes and annoying music taste, to not watch her get embarrassed any time I make a rude comment, to not feel all my worries just fucking disintegrate whenever I see her laugh.

I like the man I've become with her.

I was never the man who would put someone else before himself, who would open up to someone and let them know the darkest parts of me, someone who would dance in the street with the woman he loves, or in the ballroom of a high end hotel as everyone watched and laughed with disgust. I was never the man to love someone, and I was never the man who was worthy of being loved in return.

And now, I am that man—and I don't want to lose that for the world. I need to go straight to the source, and fix this shit once and for all. For her, for me—for us.

"Mason?" Amara's weak and tired voice breaks me out of my thought.

"Yes?" I turn to face her, happy that she's even breaking breath to me at all.

"What's the plan?" she asks, the very question making me nauseous. "When we get to Italy, what's going to happen?"

I consider my options, how to put this, to sugarcoat it—and then I remember who I'm talking to, Amara Woods; because you are, the sole person I don't have to sugarcoat things for, and the one I need to be honest with.

"We'll stay in a hotel, I already know which one—I know the owner, he'll let us stay for a really good price. Then, I'm going to talk to them." I move my gaze from her, unable to look into her eyes as I talk.

"Them?" she furrows her brow, "You mean... the gang?" her voice is full of worry, fear, everything else that I can detect.

"Yes," I tell her simply. No sugarcoating.

"And can we not use the word gang so loud in public transport, please?" I mutter under my breath.

"Mason you cant, that's so dangerous," she shifts in her seat, her breathing heavier. "And what the hell else do you want me to call them? The fucking paw patrol?"