Tennis Imagines :)

Matteo Berrettini

A/N: Some trigger warnings include description of violence, gore, and everything else associated with a mafia/police AU, so if you are uncomfortable with such stuff, please don't read this. I also think most of the "action" that goes on in the plot is too unrealistic lol. Other than that, I hope you'll enjoy this imagine! :)

You were working as a barista in a café at a tennis club in Italy that your uncle since the start of high school. At first, you wanted to help your parents save some money for college fees, and now, a few years into college, you just wanted a supplementary source of income while you pursued your studies.

There was one particular person who, in the past two years or so, began training frequently at the club. Matteo must had been new to the area, as you had never seen him around before. He often came into the café before or after his training to enjoy a cup of freshly brewed espresso. With his six-foot-five-tall muscular build, olive skin and mesmerising brown eyes, he had caught your attention.

After a year of conversing (and flirting) with each other while you stood behind the machine brewing his cup of espresso, he had finally asked you out on a date. From then on, your relationship blossomed, and you eventually moved into his apartment. However, he was not willing to open up about his past. The first time you had asked him about it while the two of you were strolling through a Christmas market, he had suddenly stopped smiling, and his expression became unreadable. He then monotonously, and somewhat mystically, replied, "Some things are better left behind in the past." The air had become tense for a few moments after that, before you changed the topic and things went back to normal. You could only hope that whatever was in Matteo's past, the pain or grief would eventually fade away, and trust that he has his reasons for not being able to share more about his past with you.

One weekend morning, you lazily stretched your back as you slowly blinked open your eyes, noticing how the sunlight was filtering in through the window blinds. You turned your head to the side, only to notice the bedsheets were rumpled but empty. Just as you were wondering where Matteo was, said man poked his head in through the bedroom door. "Good morning (a fond nickname for you), our kitchen is running low on ingredients for breakfast, so...unless you want to eat risotto or spaghetti for breakfast, I'm making a trip to the supermarket to stock up," he chirped.

You tried to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes. "Ok sure, there's no way I'm eating lunch or dinner at breakfast. Do you want me to tag along?" He shook his head. "Haha, I don't think you're awake enough just yet, so I'll just go."

You got up from bed to hug him, breathing in his cologne. "Take care, ok? I'm looking forward to a scrumptious breakfast..." He laughed while giving you a boop on your nose, "Oh wow, such high expectations..." "Quickly go, if not we're going to have breakfast really late," you fake frowned.

However, when Matteo did not return after two hours, you were very worried. The supermarket was only a ten minutes' drive away, and although it was a weekend, at such an early hour, the supermarket wouldn't be that crowded. You had tried calling his phone many times, but he never picked up, which was all the more unusual, given that he never left his phone on silent mode unless he was at a cinema to watch a movie. You decided then to call the police, who informed you to go down to the nearest police station in order to give your statement.

At the police station, you recounted that morning's events to a police officer on duty, who jotted down everything you had said onto a note pad, before asking you to wait a while in the room. About ten minutes later, another police officer walked in, and you gasped. "Marco?" Marco was your brother. After graduating from high school, he decided to join the police force and had become rather occupied with his work, especially after being promoted a few times.