𝘼𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙪𝙧 𝙎𝙝𝙚𝙡𝙗𝙮 .𝙞𝙢𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨

5 ; Forbidden Fruit ( 1 )

"I wish that you were happy I guess that's the one thing I should be providing,"
- B.S

~

Your P.O.V

You will drench yourself in the moonlights youth to stay forever young for your lover & drench him with your love to keep him forever young for yourself therefore the love between the both of you will never die out and forever remain loyal.

- your dear ol' dad
Alfie Solomons

It was the last bit of the letters my father would send me when he was away in the war. When he believed that he wouldn't return back to me, he wanted to put all his fatherly advice in four dreadful years of letters so that I won't grow up uneducated or misbehaved.

I admired that specific letter because I believed that one day I would too find love the way my father did with my mother, although she left after my fathers return as she couldn't handle a bad hip, scarred face, & a traumatized mind who would wake up in fear every night.

He left the war but the war never left him as I could still the terror in his eyes. When she left in midnight, she not only left my father but also her child behind. It could be that I was a spitting image of the man she once loved and couldn't stand to see his reflection in my eyes, it could be that we were too much of a burden.

Questions that only the dirt and soil know the answers to, she passed away a few years after she left.

It had been a wake up call for my father, his bakery going into full motion. He made his name known to the people of London, holding his authority with unlimited power as people had feared the Jewish baker named Alfie Solomon's.

I admired my father, he's done his best to keep me safe. Although the man he once was before the war had left and has different ways of being a father figure, the letters in my ribbon box remind me that he will always try his best.

Now as a grown adult with a respectable surname, it was difficult to find a man to drench my love with since my name would drive them away.

I was respected but feared, nobody dared themselves to even breathe the same air as me as they feared my father would cut their circulation off.

I was saddened at the thought that no one will ever love the meek daughter of a feared gangster.

That was until the clouds had opened their eyes and let the sun peek through, shining the London streets with a miracle of sun rays instead of tears from the angels.

The golden streaks lit upon a tall, lanky lad with a scruffy mustache and a fitted suit. He held his newspaper boy hat in his hand with white knuckles, puffing out toxins from the deadly stick he held tightly with pursed, soft lips. The sun wanted to show heavens blessing and dotted his freckles that spread like a wildfire across his gorgeous face.

I felt flustered to check out a man in the public eye but it wasn't as if anyone would ever pay attention to me or what I do due to the constant threats of anyone even looking my way, courtesy of my father.

He stood outside my fathers bakery in a near alleyway, he eyes filled with a storm that shared the same hint as my fathers. I knew in that moment he too went through the same hell my father was dragged to.