Mafia's Mate

His home

>>Clio

He carried me away from the alley. I didn't even get to protest because before I could say anything he picked up speed.

!!!

The wind blew past me and I found myself panicking. I had no idea someone could run so fast on two feet. The moment I wanted to speak, the flow of air made the words get caught up in my throat.

The journey, from the gritty confines of the alley to the unknown destination, unfolded with a surreal quality. Stranded over his shoulder, I grappled with a mixture of fear and resignation. There was no way I could resist when he was running faster than a cheetah. I didn't even know if I could manage to say anything in his situation, especially when he looked so determined. It left me with an unsettling feeling, an acknowledgment that he really wasn't human.

But what am I supposed to do with this information?

I gripped the back of his shirt tightly as I feared I might just fall off of him but he kept his grip on me firm.

I moved my face a little to look at the side of his face. I wanted to get my thinking straight but I felt so nervous at the moment I couldn't organize my thoughts. That, followed by the pain I was in, especially the pain in my head, didn't allow me to think much.

I just held on for dear life, closed my eyes shut and before I knew it, we stopped.

Hmmm?

The wind slapping past my skin grew still which made me open my right eye first.

We've stopped?

Then I opened my other eye and saw that we were standing on the porch of his house. I turned my head around as Matthew opened the door to his house and walked in.

My heart had calmed down a little at this point and I looked at him, "Can you let me down now?" I asked as we were making our way to the lounge. Being in his arms like this made me feel weird.

It felt rough.

Matthew stopped after listening to me, in the entrance of the lounge and grabbed my waist with both hands.

!!!

He picked me up, then set me down on the floor on two feet without saying a word.

I got a feeling that he might be angry. I got a look at his face too as he brought me to the front. He had a stern look on his face which made my heart ache. He didn't even attempt to talk to me all the way here. Was he disappointed? Or was he mad? Or does he think I'm some sort of a burden? Whatever it was, I just didn't like the look of indifference on his face.

I pursed my lips as my feet came in contact with the floor but my body wavered under the weight of lingering pain from the night's tumultuous events.

WOAH! I immediately knew I wasn't going to make it. The ground beneath me felt unstable, and with aching limbs and a throbbing head, I struggled to maintain my balance.

As soon as he set me down, my mind did a spin. I tried to steady myself but attempting to stand on shaky legs did not work for me. I faltered, and a sharp pain surged through my head.

"Ow!" Before I could brace myself, I found myself sinking to the ground. Matthew's expression changed within a split second when he saw me fall. All of the anger he wore turned to that of concern, a flicker of vulnerability in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

"Clio!" He wasn't expecting me to fall as soon as he set me down but looking at how he reacted made me feel a little better.

It calmed my anxious heart, but only a little.

He gently bent down, his hands hovering uncertainty as if caught between an impulse to help and a recognition of the delicate boundaries between us. In that moment, my vulnerability mirrored his, a shared acknowledgment that the night's events had left indelible imprints on both of us.

I looked at him. My head throbbing with pain which increased when I ran thoughts in it.

I looked at Matthew who was looking at me. Worried lines etched his brow as he realized the extent of my discomfort.

He grew up in the streets... He's a criminal... He killed people in front of me... And he's not even human.

My heart rate increased. I noticed his eyes were back to normal.

"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice soft and I couldn't help but reply to him.

"Yes," I nodded, "Just a little hurt,"

Am I scared of him? I wondered... He's part of the world I hate. Part of the world that has only brought me pain.

His arms encircled me, lifting me with a newfound gentleness, I couldn't help but notice the shift in his touch. The second time he lifted me, there was a tenderness in him, unlike a few minutes ago where he tossed me over his shoulders like a bag of rice, this time was different.

He picked me up in his arms like I was someone precious.

Being cradled in his arms, I observed the change in his demeanor. The worry etched across his features was unexpected.

Is he really worried about me? But why? I know he said he liked me, but why? No one goes and kills people for someone they like.

He sat me down on the couch gently, "Did you get hurt?"

"Not much," I whispered back, "But my head hurts a lot."

He stood up straight, "Let me see," He walked around to examine my head and I wondered if I should ask him about it.

"I don't think I got a visible injury..." I said

"I'll still look at it." And he carefully began to examine me. I had gotten a few scratches on my knees and arms when I fell down while running but they can be ignored.

His fingers traced my head, softly going around my hair. Somehow, even though I was in pain, it made me feel giddy. And that giddiness scared me.

I found myself in a mess of my own feelings and soon enough, I found myself unable to control myself.

"Sir," I spoke up, "How many people have you killed in your life?" My question didn't seem to faze him much and he kept moving his fingers around, but what I asked next made him stop, "Did you start killing when you were a kid?" And I felt the little twitch in his fingers as he fell quiet.