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Author:	Subject: The Cinders Fell Like Snow [18+]

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 4-9-2008 at 01:16 AM

"Sleep," she whispered gently, running her soft lips against his cheek before pulling away, "I'll be here when you wake up, promise." Well, she was going to take care of some minor business but she would be around. She smiled gently her body sliding off of his before she walked around the bed and grabbed her purse. Of course she was going shopping, killing could wait until later, until after she spent a little more time with Dominic.

And so out she set herself into the world as soon as hotel room door was closed, room key stashed like a dark secret in the confines of her pocket. It had been a while since she'd indulged in anything other than her work. It was time for her to spend some of the money that she earned working long days and horrible hours - at least she got paid for the shit job she did - although she did kinda sorta miss the buzz and the action of running around on the streets and doing as she pleased without supervision.

Not that she was being supervised, but most of her time she was in her office taking care of paperwork that had to do with when she came into ownership with the business and so the only running up and down the street was when she had to visit different branches of the alliance or pick up non-negotiable dues that were owed and not paid. But nothing compared to the fighting and the killing that she'd been used to way back before...all of this. But why wasn't she doing what she loved? Thoughts swarmed about her mind as she entered the elevator and pressed down, texting her driver and telling him to pull the car into the front.

Why was she boxing herself away like this? Oh, she'd have more time to think about all of this trivial shit while she was away but she guessed that she just didn't want Dom to come home to emptiness and a note that said she'd be back in two weeks or so.

Because she knew that she hated getting those notes herself and so she'd never want to subject Dom to the same agony that she endured on a regular basis.

But since when wasn't fair - fair?

{ we be tragedy }

eins| dos| trois| yon| fünf| seis

`londonbridge

Endangering middle class suburbia since 1990.

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posted on 16-9-2008 at 01:30 AM

By the time Amelia departed from the room, leaving Dom lying sprawled across the bedspread in her wake, he had already drifted into comfortable sleep. Of course, he knew Amelia would be nearby, and he didn’t expect her to lie around here with him and watch him sleep. How boring for her, even if he might enjoy that. Of course, if he had stayed conscious long enough to see her go for her purse, he would have offered to go shopping along with her—which would have inevitably ended with him insisting to pay for everything she bought. Because he still felt guilty about what had happened right before he left.

He still thought about that constantly, even when his mind should have been focused on other things. The image of her sitting on her bedroom floor, tears falling from her eyes because he’d kept such an ugly secret from her for so long. The feeling of her arms wrapped tight around him as she whispered that she only wanted him to get better. He knew she would never completely forgive him for doing that to her, but he was determined to do anything in his power to try.

Once he had enough sleep to function, of course.

It wasn’t long before he snored into the silence, a sign that he was really and truly deeply asleep for the first time since he’d arrived in LA. Perhaps it wasn’t that Amelia had to be lying beside him, but just nearby, somewhere he could easily get to, should something happen. She did, after all, ignite those protective reflexes in him that had been cultivated by his family since his childhood. Even if she could very well take care of herself without any help from him, as she’d proven over and over again on those numerous occasions in which he’d failed her miserably. It wasn’t fair to her that he was so selfishly keeping her around when she could have had so much more.

But then again, fair wasn’t ever fair. Amelia, of all people, would know that, because she’d been dealt the worst hand of all since he’d walked into her life. He was just too much of a selfish asshole to let her go without a fight.

It was thoughts like these that had been running through his mind for weeks, and maybe his subconscious had only been waiting for him to fall asleep so that it could truly show him the damage he was doing by staying with Amelia in anything more than a purely “enemy” status. Because the deeper he fell into unconsciousness, the more vivid the pictures in his mind became. And as he slept there, he dreamed.

He saw Angela, first, as she had been on that day he’d first seen her. Sitting in Lorenzo’s office, dressed in a dove grey suit, her thick, black locks wound into a tight bun behind her head. He remembered the first time she ever looked at him, her eyes a sharp green even behind the glasses she wore. And their coming together had been slow, very slow, but inevitable; from the moment Lorenzo first introduced the two of them, it seemed like they slowly gravitated towards each other. A smile crossed his face as his mind flickered through his memories of Angela, the first time that Lorenzo had seemed to suspect their relationship, when she had moved in with him, when they’d been at Adrien’s house and someone had snapped that photo of the two of them together—the one of Angela sitting on his lap, the only one anyone had ever taken of them together, the one he’d noticed was missing from his pile of photos that Amelia had taken from his house.

The only evidence of his betrayal.

His mind jumped forward, to almost a year after they had met. He didn’t need a dream for this to haunt him, because he would suddenly yank himself back into that time even in waking, purposely casting himself into dark moods, usually when the family found another traitor within their ranks that he was supposed to deal with. He had just come home from work, only to find Angela curled up on the couch, a panicked expression on her face as she stared unseeingly at his television. A blanket had been wrapped around her shoulders like a shield, and she barely even looked at him as he stepped into the room—a first that worried him more than words could express.

At first he considered the possibility that Lorenzo had somehow discovered their relationship with irrefutable proof and that he’d fired her; romantic relations could make anyone weak, and Lorenzo didn’t tolerate weakness in those he trusted most. But then again, wouldn’t he have gotten a call from Lorenzo right now?

”Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, sitting beside her on the sofa and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned into him, but shook her head, refusing to answer at first.

“Baby, please. If something happened, I need to know—”

“I’m pregnant.”

A shocked silence encased them both, sucking the joy that had very often filled his living room from both of them. He should have been happy about this, he thought. He loved Angela, wanted to marry her one day. But only when the time was right, and since the war with those damn Manicis was raging, Lorenzo demanded that every one of his men be his full time, not allowing for cumbersome things such as emotion. He would have to wait until things cooled down before it was smart to come out with their relationship publicly. And everyone, one day, would be happy for the both of them, but not now.

“Exactly,” she mumbled, finally wrapping her arms around him in return. He felt the first wet drops soak through his shirt and realized she’d begun crying.

They were both silent for a long while, holding each other in the silence as they considered their options.

“Baby, you know I won’t get rid of it,” she finally said, her voice so soft as it broke through the suffocating atmosphere of the room.

No, he hadn’t known that. But he knew better than to force her into anything she didn’t want.

“We could get married.”

Dom knew that in the real world, the way things had really happened, he had been the one to suggest that. But in his dream, they said it together.

And then he was back to this disgusting nightmare he’d endured for years, the one that continued to plague his mind. An angry Lorenzo pacing in front of him as he sat in the cellar of the Ghiberti mansion, in a cold plastic chair, staring into the eyes of his fiancé, the mother of his child.

”I’ll admit, you had us fooled for a long while, Miss Luvisi. But you should have known it wouldn’t last forever, would it?” Lorenzo’s cold voice slithered over his skin in the foulest way as he questioned Angela. He knew she was looking at him, silently begging him to help her while his grandfather slowly killed her, but he couldn’t look at her. Instead, he sat near the door, staring down at the dusty wooden floor as hatred and rage burned through his veins. He hated her, hated Angela for what she’d done to him, what she’d put him at risk for.

How much she’d lied to him all this time.

He heard the sound of a slap, hand against cheek, and the sound of Angela screaming through the gag burning into him, pulling at his heart with such ferocity that he lost his breath. He was just waiting for Lorenzo to turn to him and accuse him of betrayal; he was sure that even if he didn’t know before, he would certainly know now; the shame was written plainly across his face.

And on it went like this for hours, until Angela’s face was battered and bloody and all of the men in the room had had a go at teaching her a lesson. Except him. He remained in his seat and watched the spectacle only when it seemed they wanted a reaction, and he ignored the silent pleas in her eyes as they killed her. They would kill him too if he revealed that they were engaged, that she was having his baby. He would watch as they killed the best—and worst—thing that had ever happened to him.

Lorenzo, seemingly taller and much more threatening in the realm of his dream, turned to him, holding out the gun that would kill Angela Luvisi with all the drama that he loved.

Dominic took it all too willingly, stood, and crossed the room to where Angela sat, her wrists bound to her chair. They didn’t see it, but he could just barely make out the round little bump of his baby, the life he could have had if it weren’t for the two faced mother that had helped conceive it. The mother he didn’t love, not anymore. He held the gun up, rage and hatred burning in his eyes as they bored into hers. He noted with satisfaction that hope drained from her eyes as he cocked the trigger.

“Hey, Ghiberti, let’s get this show on the road, alright? We’ve been at it for hours.”

Dom turned to grin at the man, a shared camaraderie that came from disposing of the worst thing that had ever happened to their families.

But when he turned back, he saw Amelia’s face in place of Angela’s. The same hopeless expression, the fear and the revulsion that had replaced the love and affection had been so similar between the two women, but this was clearly Amelia who was being threatened by his weapon.

And just as he pulled the trigger, he woke up.

The former Ghiberti prince shot up in the bed, his breathing labored as he struggled to wipe the images from his mind. He covered his eyes, fighting for breath in the darkness of the hotel room.

“Holy shit.” He rubbed his face, nausea roiling through him as he remembered that he had killed Amelia, not Angela, in his dreams. It didn’t take a genius to realize that he wasn’t killing Amelia physically, as he had Angela, but that his transgressions against Amelia were just as bad—still killing her, emotionally and mentally, with his constant betrayals just as surely as one day she would be killed by someone else for the sin of loving him.

God, what was he doing to her?

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 7-10-2008 at 01:09 AM

It wasn't before long that Amelia's silhouette came back into that shy little hotel suite, bodice slipping slyly through the doors it had only hours before vacated under the idea that she would get a little shopping done since she was out here. Of course she'd come back. She promised hadn't she? So what would be her name if she broke promises? And where the hell would she go if not back to Dominic? She'd had come to see him after all.

Quietly, she shuffled across the room, setting her bags down casually on the soft carpet as she tried fitting into her stealth mode, creeping along the carpet, not sure if Dominic was awake or if he were still sleeping (because before he looked like he could use it), figuring that she could more than likely retire for the night if he were still dormant, not really knowing what else she could do at a time like this. And although this town was one of the more adventurous and greater cities to be in, she'd retire early and lay beside her man because nothing ever seemed right when Dominic wasn't around.

But maybe she was just using him as a crutch aside from her feet being tired from walking in heels for the latter half of the day and her body being somewhat tired as well. Excuses, yes, but good ones she guessed.

And so with that, she tip toed over to where her lover lay and outlined the curvature of his face with her index finger, noting that his eyes were opened. You know, it was hard not touching him. He was always so alluring, even when he was dead tired. And of course for anyone, it was hard not to want him either. One had to be either dead or blind if they didn't want Dominic in at least one sort of way whether it be in relationships (platonic or non) or just plain sex; Amelia, well, she got the best of both worlds, or at least she thought so on most days when she was with him.

But that was only on most days. Count that to be near 95% of the time.

Angelic body leaned down and lips engaged soft flesh - taking in that sweet, familiar taste which caused a small smirk to appear across her maw, if only slightly. A single hand snaked its way down his tender cheek, along his jaw, down his neck - feelings motivating fingers to venture as far as his chest to rest.

Hair spilled down her shoulders like a waterfall, face shrouded in darkness; the confirmation and outline of her face seeming hidden as she continued to kiss across his face slowly; steadily, noticing that he'd already been roused from his dreaming. Well, at least he made it easier for her to talk to him. "Ciao caro mia," she whispered gently in a thick Italian accent that almost seemed foreign to her as it tilted and rolled off of her tongue onto Dominic's warm skin, body then taking a chance to lay across his body, hers seeming small compared to his but doing a rather good job at enshrouding him with her warmth. Lips then collided, if only briefly with his before pulling away just barely so that she could gather whether he was responding to her or not.

"Dormire bene?..." her voice sounded againe, hand coming out to stroke his cheek gently.

She wanted to talk to him, was that too much to ask? What had it been - two days - yeah - two days too long if her opinion, but then of course when you don't see the person you love for days or weeks on end, it becomes foreign to you, to hold them in your arms and even kiss their face. Maybe Amelia was just being selfish, but you know, she had come all the way out here just to be with with him - and even if it was under false pretenses, she was still here. So pardon her greatly if she wanted to see her fiancé and talk to him if only for a little bit. Although of course, she didn't expect him to form too many sentences seeming as though he'd just seem to have waken up out of his sleep.

{ we be tragedy }

eins| dos| trois| yon| fünf| seis

`londonbridge

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posted on 9-10-2008 at 02:02 AM

Dom’s eyes seemed to take a moment to focus on the face looming over his and register the source of the warmth that covered his body. His eyes fixed on Amelia’s face and he focused his efforts on controlling his breathing—mind still flashing through the different images of that nightmare that would probably haunt him for days.

It was usually easy to suppress the memories now, despite the initial anguish that had plagued him immediately after the fact. Then, in those few days immediately after he’d killed Angela, he had been forced to sort through the emotions, riding the rollercoaster through hatred, despair, regret…

Now, he was determined to feel nothing.

To accomplish that, he must never think of her, never think of that time in his life. But thanks to this latest dream, the old scars he’d sought to ignore had been ripped open and bled anew.

A fucking perfect time to revisit memory lane, considering Amelia was sprawled out on top of him and staring into his eyes with nothing but sweet admiration and love.

After a few moments, he managed to control himself enough to muster a smile for his fiancé.

“Ciao, Bella,” he responded, his quiet voice thick with sleep. Obviously, even his restless sleep he had gained back some of that energy that had been so ruthlessly drained from him; the dark circles beneath his worried brown eyes had faded somewhat. He shifted upwards, his fingers ghosting across the perfect angle of her jaw as his lips touched hers.

His eyes wandered, hoping that Amelia wouldn’t catch on to the distress he had a difficult time concealing. He saw her bags on the floor and grinned—he had always been certain that women who shopped in LA could single-handedly jumpstart the economy if they decided to put their money on Wall Street rather than boutiques.“How was shopping? I would have taken you if you’d just asked.” He wished she had. That way, he could have avoided that unsightly nightmare and spent his valuable time in the waking world with Amelia—who was here with him, now, all his in a way that Angela never had been, even in life.

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 9-10-2008 at 02:43 AM

At his smile, Amelia felt at ease and so therefore she continued to let her body stretch out across his, arms tenderly wrapping around his neck so that she could somewhat hug him - though - it was pretty hard, she wasn't even going to lie. Yeah, aside from their position on the bed right about now, Dominic's thick, curly coif that well - she didn't want to pull it because she didn't want to hurt him and totally kill the whole conversation they were having. Because lately, Amelia hadn't had too many moments like these with Dom.

And well, she'd be lying to herself if she said that she didn't miss it; that she didn't miss moments like these, but whatever made Dominic happy - even if it made her cry sometimes - he was a big part of her life and no matter what she was going to try and make him happy. If he was happy, she was happy, which didn't work out most of the time, but that's how marriages work sometimes don't they? It's all communication, communication and clockwork.

Not that Amelia was claiming to be some sort of marriage guru all of a sudden, but you know...those lonely nights at home...they kind of make you weigh and think about the things in your life, and believe you me, Amelia had gotten plenty of time to think since Dominic had started his new job and well she deduced that a half at home Dom was better than no Dominic at all and so when he did come home she was going to try to make him as happy as possible.

God, she sounded like some 1960s stay at home wife or something. And it kind of chilled her down to her respective bones if you will; to think of Amelia Manici being married and maybe someday having children. God, they were going to be so messed up. A small laugh escaped her lips as she rested her cheek against Dominic's before laying her head on his shoulder, making sure that she turned her face as far away from Dom's wandering eyes for as long as she could so that he couldn't see that she was possibly blushing over these thoughts.

Because bad-asses don't blush.

But maybe she'd gone soft? You know, just take the backseat to everything that was happening. Sometimes she felt weak. Was she getting weak? Since when has weakness ever become an option in her life? Or crying for that matter, she'd never cried up until the point when she'd...and well life...well, it wasn't as exciting as it used to be. Not that Dom was bringing down her social life or even asking her to wait for him at night, but Amelia guessed that she kind of owed it to Dom to be up or at least in the house when he came home from his long trips because it had been refreshing to see Dominic's face even after her short flight this morning. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she thought about it again.

What happened to the luster in her life - that everyday adrenaline rush - the thrill of just mowing someone down in their tracks - the battling as well as the fighting and not to mention or forget the god awfully wonderful angsty apartment sex? Hm, she didn't know. Everything lately just seemed dimmed down like a kitchen light in the nook of her giant mansion. But do you know what's funny? She's the only one sitting there...drinking by herself...eating by herself...sleeping by...

Damn. Before she even knew it she was frowning; scowling really. Okay, that was enough thinking for tonight.

Without really even realizing it, Amelia's embrace against Dominic tightened for a few seconds before she completely released him to sit up,;rolling away from him so that she could get a good look at the bags. Clearing her throat, Amelia decided that she'd flick a few stray tufts of hair away from her brilliant green eyes before answering, "Shopping?" a pause, was her voice shaking? "oh...uh, it was great and don't worry about it because I didn't want to bother you. You were tired and I was pretty much ready to go when I stepped off of the plane." Face finally turned back towards him and a smile had managed to retouch her lips. How did she do that so masterfully you ask? It had probably become easy for her after all of the years of faking and shaking.

Or maybe it was magic.

Which excuse sounds better to you?

{ we be tragedy }

eins| dos| trois| yon| fünf| seis

`londonbridge

Endangering middle class suburbia since 1990.

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Mood: Paging Jerry Springer.

posted on 11-10-2008 at 12:55 AM

If there was anything that Dom had learned from his life—especially those years since he fate had pushed Amelia into his life—it was that there was no such thing as stability. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way, considering that his whole life, everything he had worked for since he’d been initiated into this family, had been ripped away from him. That future that had always seemed to be set in stone had been swept away like dust under the rug, and he’d been forced to make his own way through.

And he was doing quite well for himself, even if it meant he couldn’t always be at home with Amelia. The pay was lower, certainly, but anyone who had expected Dominic Ghiberti to fall without the crutch of his family name would be shamefaced to see him now. How happy he was. The look of satisfaction on his face whenever he walked through the door, knowing that he had done a job that made him happy and that there was a woman he loved waiting for him when he walked in the door.

If he had had any idea that Amelia was beginning to feel some kind of dissatisfaction with their new routine, with his new nomadic lifestyle, he would have ended it right then and there, despite the fulfillment he got from it. And sure, he didn’t like the time spent apart, either, and he had certainly noticed that the time once spent out in the streets was now wasted by waiting up for him at night.

But he knew things wouldn’t always be that way. He’d learned that nothing was ever definite, and that day might come when he could actually make good on that promise to marry her and stay in one place for more than a week at a time.

His mind had wandered into this dangerous territory when she moved away from him. He looked her over, his eyes tracing her face as she told him not to worry. Would she even want to marry him if the time came? Even when he did have a job that would allow him to work in one place like he once had? Somehow, he didn’t think so. Marriage just seemed like such a boring concept after everything that they’d been put through together, like an anti-climactic end to their story. Maybe engagement would be good enough for her for the rest of their life—that promise of monogamy, but no actual ties that bound them and kept them away from the lives they’d always known.

He didn’t know. And he figured that he wouldn’t any time soon, because their lives were completely in stasis—for now.

Eventually, he sat up beside her, leaning over and pressing his lips to her shoulder, making a trail up her neck and to that tender spot just behind her ear. “Well, if you didn’t let me take you shopping then at least let me take you to dinner. I know of some good places around here you’d like.”

It would be nice, walking in broad daylight with Amelia beside him. In a world where they could never coexist, of course he would never dream of taking her to dinner. But here, on the other side of the country, it was like a fresh start.

Or maybe he was just feeling particularly daring tonight.

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 11-10-2008 at 01:45 AM

It wasn't Dominic's fault that Amelia was feeling this way, no, he was just merely one of the reasons she was feeling this way. Oh, but it felt so bad to put the blame on him like that because he wasn't doing anything but trying to coexist; to exist. Who was Dominic without his gun? Was he more of a man or less of one? Amelia didn't know, but in the back of her mind there was no option to tell Dominic how she was feeling under any circumstances because her feelings, at this point and time, were kind of stress-bent and selfish.

Asking Dominic to give up what he was doing right now would be the equivalent of Dominic asking Amelia to give up her life as a Mafiosa all together and become a stay at home mother even if they didn't decide to have children. Just stay there - locked in her pretty little mansion all day - looking out of the window and waiting for her lover to come home.

No, Amelia could never subject Dominic to something like that. So even if it did pain her to see him go more often then not, she would have to just bit her tongue and bare it - at least until something happened to bring Dominic home to her permanently, and no, we're not talking about in a casket either. Because who wants to start a family with a wooden box and blank dreams? God, did that make any sense?

Starting a family, getting married, being with Dominic for the rest of her lives - all concepts that were new to Amelia. Well, the marriage and making a family weren't really new concepts because those ideals had been thrown at her ever since she was a little girl. Yeah, her mother often came into her room and took a seat beside her, folding her hands one over the other and looking over at her daughter with pride and also a sense of maternal joy. Yes, she would often do this and Amelia knew what she wanted to talk about because it happened the same way every time and Amelia was always powerless to avoid it, especially after she'd been accepted into the Allegiance that one fateful night.

Amelia, why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because I know what you're going to say mama, and I don't want to do it."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be a mother. I wouldn't be any good at it and I think you know that." Amelia remembered the feeling of her mother's eyes upon her, chilling her to the core even if she didn't mean to, and then she thought of all of those wasted moments in the kitchen learning to prepare food and clean and host parties...serve tea...all of that time wasted and how her heart sunk into the pit of her stomach and seemed to dissipate. There was silence for a while, but her mother didn't seem to be phased by what her daughter had said, even if it was disappointing. Her mother's face still wore that smile and hand stayed at her lap.

"You're young. You're not sure about many things, amore, but whatever you decide I know you'll be and will do the best you can do, whether if it's the choice of being a mother or being mafiosa; despite whether you marry or you don't marry I'll be proud of you and I'll love you. But I'm hoping that you'll reconsider because I think you'll make a grand mother for some beautiful child or children someday. Now, lie down and get some rest."

How couldn't you decide that you wanted a child after such a moving speech? Her mother had it planned, Amelia knew, but still - she wasn't sure of a lot of things, but she knew that she loved Dominic. That was about all she was sure of. She would give it all away to say 'I do' and well, if they did end up getting married she was sure that he would make her happy. She just didn't know if she was ready for that type of commitment yet because if them being engaged was boring. Hell, she wanted to know what marriage was going to be like. But if they weren't going to get married for a while then that would be fine with Amelia, but she didn't want to stay engaged forever because that would just make things incomplete between the two of them.

And prove that their engagement was more of a waste of time then her waiting up for Dominic late at night.

Smile renewed as his lips touched against her, causing a few hairs to stand up on end like they always did before she answered him, "Okay," she grinned as eyes closed slightly, "I'll let you do that."

{ we be tragedy }

eins| dos| trois| yon| fünf| seis

`londonbridge

Endangering middle class suburbia since 1990.

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Mood: Paging Jerry Springer.

posted on 11-10-2008 at 03:02 AM

Dom smiled, the last few remnants of sleep reflected in his expression as he tilted his head and leaned in, touching his lips gently to hers—holding her there for several seconds, then breaking away. His nose traced the elegant line of her jaw and his fingers brushed the opposite cheek as he whispered, “Thank you.”

Slowly, almost reluctantly, he pulled away, moving off the bed and heading for his closet. “Put on your best dress tonight, bella. It’s going to be one hell of a ride.”

He tossed a nonchalant, yet sensually insinuating glance over his shoulder as he reached into the tiny hotel closet.

» » »

Despite the fact that tourists looked for celebrities on every street corner in the city of LA, it was nice to be considered an average person for one night—when he didn’t have to worry about who would snap his picture when Amelia was at his side. Of course, no one could consider these two an average couple, obviously, but because they had never put out a record or starred in a movie, they were merely overlooked by any paparazzi who didn’t have New York’s most notorious crime families on their mind.

No, they simply appeared to be a young, glamourous couple, perhaps friends with celebrities but enjoying no astronomical fame themselves. Two beautiful people out for a night on the town, obviously wealthy and admired but otherwise left to themselves.

Dom would have it no other way, at least for tonight. He preferred that they were left alone; that way, he could have Amelia to himself. Perhaps that was a selfish desire, as Amelia deserved to be worshipped at every available opportunity—the realization of that hit him every time he looked at her—but Dom had never even pretended to be selfless in the least.

It had briefly crossed his mind that maybe this sudden burst of adoration was because of the guilt that had plagued him since waking after his dream. And maybe, if Amelia hadn’t looked so damn beautiful and caused his mind to wander to other, less pure thoughts, he would have considered the ramifications of that.

But as it was, his attention was focused solely on her.

His attention was only torn away from her when their waiter arrived at their table, setting two wine glasses filled with water on their table, then two empty ones. He had requested their finest wine for the evening—only the first in his many plans for tonight. The others included dancing later at some swanky club that they would have no problem getting into and then a romantic night spent in their hotel suite, preferably one that would last until he had to go back to his work in the morning.

They’d been seated on the patio, the busy LA street on the other side of the fence not detracting from the elegant atmosphere that encompassed them. He’d dressed up for the occasion himself, his designer suit concealing the weapon holstered under his jacket. He’d even attempted to put a comb through those curly locks of his, just for the occasion. Their waiter, probably an actor short on jobs at the moment, held a bottle of wine in his hands and displayed the bottle to Dominic.

“The Aldo Conterno Barolo Riserva, 1989. One of the finest wines in the world.”

“Thank you,” Dom said, watching him carefully as he poured an equal amount of wine in their empty glasses before walking away.

He turned his eyes back to the woman across the table, hoping that she would be pleased that he was trying so hard to please her, rather than screwing things up, for once. He lifted his wine glass to her, holding it up for a toast. “To the most beautiful woman in the room.”

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 11-10-2008 at 12:56 PM

Something was different in the air tonight, and to tell you the truth Amelia didn't know whether this was because the smog count was just a little lower here than in NY or if it was because she was just happy to be out with Dominic, but regardless of smog or cameras at this point and time, Amelia was still out with Dominic and so again she was just happy. This was a very rare occurrence in her life; to actually make a public appearance with her fiancé. Back at home? Well, you already know the deal there but here? Here they could well...get away with murder and no one would expect them of it.

There were no flashes, no questions, no noisy women with microphones positioned in her face wanting her to answer what was going on here, no, there was just Dominic and Amelia - a normal God-made couple who spent no time at all just blending in with the crowd...well at least they were trying. But of course, it was a little hard seeing as though the both of them looked so stunning compared to the average Sally, Greg, Grace, or Billy that was wandering around tonight.

Yeah, this was probably as normal as they would ever be together when they were together out in the broad daylight with each other, still holding that upper-crest of society; the upper-tax bracket mentality without really even giving it another thought. But nothing was different really, there were eyes looking at them, it was just a miracle that those eyes didn't have hands that held cameras. So attention was captured, but not by cameras, which was rather relieving in a sense, but you know Amelia - she'd never denied or would ever deny the chance of being the centre of attention because she liked it too much.

So just as Dominic had done, Amelia had dressed up in her finest dress at the time (seeing as though she wasn't at home and couldn't just pick from her repertoire) something new, something black, daring yet elegant and of course stylish -something short - something silken - something expensive as hell because the brand was Chanel, but of course money was no object and of course her favorite accessory, a Pachmayr concealed, just in case some sort of violence ensued.

Always have to be prepared.

A brief walk through the restaurant was all it took to turn heads, to get others to pay attention, but of course - eyes always stayed forward unless Amelia decided to have a little fun, which always seemed to happen. It would be the blonde girl who was at a table for two - she would be sizing her and absolutely murdering her with her eyes - lips pierced like she'd just eaten some lemon and her face was having a bad reaction. Yeah, they were always fun.

But tonight, Amelia wasn't looking for anyone to tease, she was and had her whole attentions focused on her night with Dominic and Dominic himself. She smiled and took a seat in the ambiance of the patio, eyes wandering around just a bit before falling back on her beloved just in time to hear his toast. "Here, here. I'll drink to that." She lifted her glass and gave him a smile, letting their glasses briefly collide before taking a small sip and setting it back down at the table. "Thank you," she said gently, "You really didn't have to get up, but you did so...thank you."

{ we be tragedy }

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`londonbridge

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posted on 11-10-2008 at 09:31 PM

Maybe he would never get used to this feeling, being out with Amelia under the pretense of being a normail couple. Because for the first time, he could take her anywhere in town and not constantly observe their surroundings, looking for that familiar face that might recognize the two of them and report back to one of their superiors; neither the Ghibertis nor the Manicis owned the streets of LA back home—no man’s land as far as the Underworld was concerned.

It was odd, being able to focus all of his efforts into Amelia’s happiness tonight, without his mind wandering elsewhere as it had on every occasion before this. Of course, that would change a couple of hours before he had to leave her and get back to the reason he was here in the first place, but for now, he could be the fiancé that he knew she deserved.

He took a sip of his wine as well, rolling it over his tongue—enjoying the hundreds of dollars that it was probably going to cost him—before letting it slide down his throat. But he didn’t set it down, instead looking into the deep red liquid, swirling it around his cup again in and again as he listened to her words.

“Please, don’t thank me,” he said, a smile tilting his lips in that crooked half-smile that hadn’t appeared for quite some time. He looked up at her, taking in the vision in front of him—Amelia, sexy as hell in her little black dress, all his when he didn’t do a damn thing to deserve her in the first place. Because not only did she accept him and all the shit that weighed him down, she chose him even knowing that her life was at stake for it.

Maybe she was just crazy—but he would take what he got from her and not complain.

“After all, I couldn’t have you come all the way out here and go all the way home having only been cooped up in a hotel the whole time.” Though that would certainly come later if she gave him the chance…

No, that would come in its own time. For now, they were going to have a nice dinner at one of the most exclusive restaurants in LA, one that had often been compared to the famous Ristoranti Ghiberti at home.

Perhaps it was out of habit, but for the first time that night his eyes turned away from Amelia and looked out at the street, scanning faces of those passerby who happened to glance in the direction of the patio. Of course, it would be difficult to see their faces here, lit only by the candles on the tables, the soft glow of the lanterns perched on top of the perimeter’s fence.

Difficult, he knew. But not impossible.

Most were couples or groups out for a night on the town, not taking more than a fraction of a second’s notice to take in the smooth elegance of the restaurant and its guests. A woman holding her boyfriend’s hand locked eyes with him for a moment, her gaze innocent before she disappeared from view. One man, his hair slicked back in a ponytail and dressed in a button down shirt and jeans, also met his gaze as he passed by, alone—but his was far more calculating, more sinister than anyone else’s.

His instinct was beginning to raise the alarm when their waiter distracted him, pulling out his note pad and smiling down at the couple—obviously hoping they tipped well.

“Are we ready to order over here?” he asked, turning to Dom. He glanced down at the menu, realizing that he hadn’t even opened it since they’d sat down.

He nodded in Amelia’s direction, indicating that she could order first, before his attention returned to the street. The man was no longer standing there, a good sign, but just as he considered the implications of that, a sleek black Mercedes pulled up alongside the curb and parked. Dark brown eyes squinted, trying to make out how many figures were inside behind the tinted black windows.

He knew that car—but surely about a million people in the Hollywood area owned those, right?

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 14-10-2008 at 01:16 PM

Amelia enjoyed this. No, really - she was having the time of her life right about now. Here she was, out in broad daylight, with the man she loved and would marry one day and they were eating and he was smiling; God, she'd missed that smile upon his face. Usually when he came home he was just tired and so she'd let him sleep. But Amelia figured that since Dom had taken his little cat nap that he'd be good on sleep for at least the next couple of hours or so, but you know...if he was still tired - she had a few tricks up her sleeve that would help him in his aide of wanting to be put to bed.

But none of that right now, none of that - they were enjoying a nice outing together and Amelia was immensely enjoying herself; that's all there is to it. And so as they sat, Amelia looked over the menu, verdant orbs speculating everything on the menu. Of course the food here wouldn't be anything better than she could get back in NY or hell, not even better than she could cook for herself, but she would let Dominic suffice his need to take her out on the town - seeing as though he too seemed excited about them being out together; no matter how awkward it was.

And although she was trying to pick her item from the menu, her eyes began to float as well - watching the people down below until their silhouette's faded into shadows or around the corner or even into taxis and cars - just like that black Mercedes that just pulled up not to far away from the patio. It wasn't an uncommon car so there was no need to be alarmed. Nope. Because if there was some sort of alarm in this, that meant that the two of them would be working, and since neither of them were working, it was probably best just to ignore it and move on.

Attentions immediately averted from the situation to some couple that seemed happy and Amelia cleared her throat, taking a sip of water thereafter. You know this... this was nice; being here, being with Dominic - nothing could compare really. To tell you the truth, Dominic could have taken Amelia out to get a hamburger or something but she still would have been happy. I mean even if he wanted to go right now and get one instead of sitting here, that would be fine with her. But of course, this sort of happiness only came around once no one was in sight or once someone was feeling daring enough to just get up and go.

So seeing as though it happened every once in a while, Amelia would cherish this moment for as long as she could by taking a deep breath; relish the moments that were passing by because she pretty much already knew with the line of Dominic's work as well as her own, life wasn't promised to them in the least bit. Attentions then crept back over the menu in hopes that she might find something to eat. But she didn't see anything so the menu was set down, and her eyes wandering set about their curious course around the table before landing on her wine glass.

Wine; Alcohol for that matter, Amelia didn't know how long it'd been since she'd actually had something to drink. Maybe it had been a couple of weeks since...she smiled to herself, hand reaching over to grab the glass full of water before another swirl and a slight, calculated sip of Aldo. Just then, the waiter came to their table and asked whether they were ready to order. Amelia looked over at Dom who looked back at her and then looked back out on the street - her interest piqued enough to look toward the black Mercedes that she'd spotted before - a sigh.

"Uhm..." she started, her voice bright and airy. "Actually, this is my first time eating here and I was wondering if you could suggest something, perhaps?" A small, white-toothy smile was charged and brandished. The waiter nodded and kind of tightened his tie before leaning over into the menu that she was holding up, in efforts to help her decide - or hide her aroused suspicions because there would be none of that right now.

He rambled on about dishes that she wasn't interested in - she'd actually just wanted to distract him enough so that she could take another look at Dominic over the menu and then again another look at that damned black car that seemed to be catching Dom's attention. Always work - always work - well if this just wasn't a date damper? Head slipped back down into the menu and Amelia rested her hand on her cheek, now nodding her head to make it actually seem that she was listening until he came to the end of his meritorious menu explanation - if you can even call it they. "Thanks," she said softly, looking back over at Dominic. "but I'm still not sure - can you give us a minute?" The waiter smiled and nodded his head before walking back into the building. Amelia put down her menu and crossed her arms indignantly across her chest before rolling her eyes and setting he hands on the table.

No, calm down, it's going to be okay.

"Hey Dom, can you help me choose something out of the menu?" She tilted the menu again, blocking her view of both him and the car so that secretly she could seethe. "I...I just can't seem to decide." Yeah, decide if she still wanted to be here or not because something told her that they weren't really going to get the chance to eat.

Why her? Just - just tell me why?

{ we be tragedy }

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posted on 21-10-2008 at 11:58 PM

Dom’s entire body went rigid when he watched that car, like he was expecting his worst enemy to step out at any second and spot him here, with Amelia. Nothing could be worse at this moment. He tuned out the waiter’s long spiel as he explained the minute details of the menu that was already heavy on detail, somewhat annoyed at the back of his mind that she had asked him a question that required such a long answer.

But he didn’t have much of a chance to make that annoyance known; the waiter had already gone and Amelia turned her attention back to him. And he realized, in the moment, by the tiny change in her tone, that she was realizing his deviations from tonight’s agenda. What was he doing? Ruining a perfectly good evening by slipping back into the work mindset he’d promised to forgo for just one night?

His eyes turned back to Amelia quickly, as he realized his mistake. He was getting worked up over nothing, a car that thousands of people in this city probably owned, and ruining Amelia’s night in the process.

He picked up the menu, throwing himself back into the occasion with as much force as he could. His eyes swept over the words, his face blocked from view as he tried to help her decide. “I’ve always heard that the filet mignon is good…” he said, dropping the menu down back to the table as he regarded her.

Anyone would have to be out of their minds to think solely about work when this woman was sitting across from the table from them and wanting his attention. His eyes slipped back to the car in the street—which had not moved, and was beginning to gnaw at his danger intuition—but didn’t linger, as he reminded himself once again to focus on the reason he had come here tonight.

“Anything you want, Bella,” he said, giving her his charming, lop-sided grin across the table. “Tonight, anything you want is yours.”

It was at that moment that the waiter returned, a pad in hand, obviously ready to take their orders. His eyes flickered back and forth between the two of them, his smile somewhat tighter than it previously had been. “Are we ready now?” he asked, and despite his expression, his tone held no edge of impatience.

“I’ll have the filet mignon,” he said, holding the menu up for the waiter to take as he took his own suggestion. “Medium-well, please.”

His eyes turned back to Amelia, though peripheral vision told him that someone was getting out of the car. Instinctively, his hand reached into his jacket to where the gun rested against his ribs, but he worked to keep his eyes carefully casual as he watched his fiancé, wary of what the waiter might think if he suddenly looked alarmed when his dinner companion was only ordering dinner.

Because he knew the man who had gotten out of that car, the man who was leaning against it now, watching him carefully. He fought to keep his eyes straight. One look in the man’s direction and he would be firing without warning—something he couldn’t put Amelia in the way of. And of course, he knew who Dominic was.

Because he was the man Dominic had been tracking his whole time in LA.

And he was over there, watching him with slitted eyes, waiting for Dom to make a move so he could have an excuse to fire. Damn it, how could he be so stupid? It was the first time in his new career that he’d ever fucked up—and now he had royally fucked it up, because not only had the guy found out the real reason for his being here, he’d blown his cover and put Amelia at risk as well.

Ooc; Don’t hate me for this post. <3

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posted on 22-10-2008 at 01:21 AM

If you couldn't already tell; Amelia wasn't at all amused with what was going on right now. She didn't know why, well actually that's a lie she knew exactly why she was getting to pissed off, but no matter how many times she tried to calm down about the matter - she would just get angrier and angrier. She just wanted to be out with Dominic - on a normal date for a change. Now was that to much to ask for?

Apparently so because Dominic hadn't looked back over to her yet. She sighed and rolled her eyes, hiding her face behind the menu. Maybe she'd actually choose whatever she wanted to order before the waiter came back. But it would probably be her luck that he would come back in the next few minutes while Amelia was still pouting behind a menu; trying to ignore her urge to bash Dominic over the head with it.

And although she was pretty sure it wouldn't hurt him at all she would feel much better for it.

At his voice, she lowered the menu a little bit, casually looking over at him as he suggested that she had some Filet Mignon, but although it was a pretty good suggestion she didn't feel like eating a small cutlet of beef right now. He told her that she could have anything that she wanted and smiled at her, but she didn't reciprocate. Instead she just lifted her menu back up and began looking over the menu again, shaking her head.

Anything she wanted? Right now she wanted a couple of things to happen, like for Dom not to work for the next hour, but seeing as that didn't seem to be happening she'd just examine her menu until Dominic got up and began shooting at the Mercedes - it was only a matter of time. Speak of the devil, the waiter was back. Amelia exhaled in a frustrated manner. Wow, really? She still hadn't chosen anything and from the look on his face, he was probably going to spit in her food first.

"And for the lady?" The waiter asked, turning his visions over to her. Amelia gave him a small smile and somewhat of an embarrassed half-laugh. "Well," she began figuring on just ordering a salad, but she had been too bust watching Dominic ignoring her that she just hadn't chosen which salad she wanted. Irritation sparked in her face and came in the form of a blush. "actually...I still don't know what I would like." The waiter was probably trying not to stab her with the pen he was holding but if he even tried - he would be dead regardless of whether she was killing him by not ordering. He nodded his head and said that he would be back and for her to take her time.

Eyes then caught sight of Dominic reaching for his gun that was firmly tucked away in his jacket, "Wait...wait," she cried - looking over at Dom and then the waiter out of her peripheral vision who had stopped in his tracks. She'd actually been talking to Dominic but since the waiter had stopped. She turned her head, "I would like the grilled chicken and mango salad, I think you suggested that...sounds nice, thanks." The waiter looked relieved, wrote it down and disappeared, leaving the two alone after collecting the menus.

Amelia placed her hand on her head, "You know Dominic...," she began gently, "normally I wouldn't mind you doing whatever the hell you think you're doing..." she paused and took a breath, reaching over to get a drink of water before setting the glass down. "But I guess it's just the fact that I flew three-thousand miles to come and see you and you can't even spare me two hours." She shook her head and shook her head. "I don't even get two from you, and maybe I'm just being emotional or selfish and maybe I'm even jealous, but I just can't get three-thousand out of my mind." She shook her head. She was over it. Dinner was ruined. "And the funny thing is that I would think that a few minutes of your time wouldn't be hard to spare, but I guess I'm wrong. Oh I am? So glad we agree on that."

Without really thinking about it, Amelia grabbed her purse and stood up, shuffling through it to toss a generous amount of bills on the table and then she just...up and walked out - trying to contain herself on the way out.

{ we be tragedy }

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`londonbridge

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posted on 31-10-2008 at 05:31 PM

Dom was so surprised by Amelia’s sudden outburst that his hand fell away from his gun momentarily, and his eyes fixed on her incredulously as she chewed him out for… what? Trying to save his own life? Did she think he was pulling his gun out just for kicks? He understood that she probably questioned his sanity level once every so often, but really, he didn’t want this wonderful night to be so ruined.

But it looked like he was losing control of it, and fast.

He opened his mouth to speak, to somehow salvage some shred of her mood, but Amelia had already stormed off, leaving him alone at what had once been a lovely table for two. No, no. Two hours was not that difficult to give her, and he would gladly give her the whole night if she wanted it, no questions asked.

“Amelia, Amelia, wait,” he said, turning in his chair and watching her go. His tone was deep and sincere, apologetic if only she would stop long enough for her to listen. He really had brought her here tonight with the best of intentions. And, like everything, he had fucked that up, too.

But he was too late; she’d already stormed away. Soon, he had no doubt, she would be back in the hotel room packing an calling to book a flight home. He turned back in his chair and stared at the spot where she once had been, obviously considering his options.

He could still feel the eyes watching him. Not only the eyes of those around him who had witnessed Amelia’s sudden departure, but the eyes of the man in the street. He stared at the empty chair across from him, and to anyone else, it might have appeared as though he was deciding whether it would be a good idea to follow her out or not.

And he was weighing his options, but not those specific ones.

Amelia was gone. Perhaps that was a good thing. Maybe then, she would be well out of the way when he pulled his gun and the blood bath began. And there would be one—because he caught the subtle movement out of the corner of his eye, the one of a hand reaching into a jacket for a gun.

At the same time, he did the same, but didn’t pull it out. There were still people watching him, and if he happened to pull out a gun in front of a crowd, pandemonium would surely erupt. He would have to get out to the street and take care of this some other way. So he made a movement, the first in several minutes, and began standing. Slowly, slowly.

But before Dom could make another movement, his wine glass seemed to explode, sending shards flying and wine splattering both him and the pristine white table cloth on the table. The deafening shot attracted everyone’s attention, and the screams, shrieking and grating on his ears, accompanied the sights of dozens of people running, fearing for their lives.

For the first time, Dom turned to face the man on the street, his mark, the one he was being paid to go after, the man still holding his gun up, ready to fire. His finger squeezed the trigger, the barrel aimed for the waiter that was standing nearby, the obnoxious one who had been so annoyed with them earlier. The bullet, silent and swift, caught him in the head and sent the young man reeling towards the ground, otherwise motionless from the assault.

And then he turned his gun on Dom, the hatred and betrayal in his eyes burning raw and red. Shit. Dom lifted his gun, aimed it for the man’s head, and shot before he could have the chance, sending him to the ground, but not before others had leaped out of the Mercedes to join their now fallen leader.

And as they all raised their guns to Dom, he only had a brief moment to be thankful that Amelia was long gone.

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posted on 15-11-2008 at 12:12 AM

It was going to be easy. She was going to go back to the apartment, take a shower and then she was going to get into bed for the night. Since Dom couldn't spend time with her - she was just going to spend time alone until he came back to the hotel room and probably laid beside her for the night. But of course she wouldn't be able to tell anything; she would be asleep.

But Amelia had never been good on trying to get to sleep when she was upset. Eyes watched her carefully as she stormed toward the exit - figuring that she'd stop in the restroom before she headed off to fix the make-up she was going to take off when she got back to the hotel. Who cared? This was her plan and no one was going to infringe on it. Because Dominic wouldn't be following her out and so she wasn't really in a rush.

The door to the restroom was pushed open, the wall behind shouting as she pushed the wood back too far against it. No damage - she was fine then. Bodice found itself in front of a mirror and eyes scanned herself thoughtfully. Amelia knew that she was tired - her body felt it - but it was funny she felt no signs of sleep on the outside. It was rough being this beautiful and not having anyone to lavish upon that fact. Of course there was always Dominic when he was in the mood but...whatever - she wasn't now.

A little powder here and little murmuring there, she figured that she should probably go but not before she had a self-satisfying laugh because Dom was probably engaging in a shootout right now. And then she heard a round discharge followed by a lot of screaming. Oh, oh fuck. Well, this wasn't a good way to end a night. I mean - what if something had happened to Dominic? Amelia found herself torn as she did in a lot of situations that involved her fiancé but she figured that she should at least check on him.

Because she'd figured that an alive fiancé was better than a dead one.

Amelia was not gone as Dominic had expected - she had been in the process of leaving (don't get me wrong) but now after hearing gun shots she knew that she couldn't actually LEAVE Dominic to fend for himself, although she was pretty sure that he did the whole seven on one thing very often; he was a big boy after all.

And so in some sort of relishing moment, Amelia brandished her handgun and walked to the door, throwing it back against the wall, running out back toward the balcony. Why she was running - she really couldn't tell you - it was probably just the fact that she felt that she was getting no where faster with all these people running in the direct opposite that she was and she needed to get to the balcony pretty much in a hurry. So even though it took a while for her to actually get there, Amelia arrived, walking past the dead waiter on the floor and stood to Dominic's side, flicking her hair from her face.

"If I would have known that you were going to get into a gun fight in public then I would have brought a better gun." Amelia mused -eyes concentrated upon the men who had stepped out of the car and were now pointing their barrels at the two of them.

The two of them - now didn't that sound nice? But death wasn't really appealing right now neither was it an option at this point. Amelia looked out at the men and then looked at their guns. Yeah, she should have probably brought a better one but there was no time to go get one now. Focus was then turned upon Dominic for a second but when she looked back over - the men were dispersing; walking toward the entrance really...probably meaning that they were on their way in.

"I think we're going to be having company."

{ we be tragedy }

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posted on 19-11-2008 at 03:26 AM

The only solace that Dom could take from this situation was that Amelia was long gone, far away from the guns and the screaming spectators. Of course, he knew she could take care of herself, because he’d seen her in action many times before, but he certainly didn’t want to take any chances by having her here, a target for these men who wanted nothing more than to wipe him off the face of the earth for his treachery.

Sure, he would probably make it out relatively unharmed. It was difficult to actually land a shot without hitting one of the people around him, and unless these men were suicidal—which was probably not the case, as they looked like low-paid cowards sent to do the boss’s muscle work—they would do anything to complete their assignment and have as little blood on their hands as possible. Less leads for the cops to work with.

More of a chance that he could scrape by yet again.

Still, those chances didn’t tilt in his favor—seven to one. A thirty percent chance that he would make it out alive, get to see Amelia’s face again. Get to see his family, or at least those few who he kept in contact with.

Good enough for him.

They were coming into the restaurant. Most likely they didn’t want to kill him on the spot, but rather take him back to a safehouse where they could keep him for a while. And God, didn’t he know what that was like. Images of the way his family had dealt with Angela’s betrayal flashed through his mind, followed by the gruesome images of the scars on his back that told of his own betrayals.

And now he’d betrayed these men, and something told him by the way they looked at him across the patio told him they weren’t interested in any type of punishment that he could walk away from.

But at least Amelia was safe. For now.

He had lifted his gun again, a twisted relief flowing through his mind and allowing him to aim at one man’s head with even more accuracy than he normally would have been able to accomplish.

And just as he was about to pull the trigger, he heard her voice, and he faltered.

It only took a split second to glance at her, to ensure that his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him and that she really was standing right beside him in the middle of the makeshift battlefield. His heartbeat accelerated at an alarming rate and he stared at her.

“Amelia, if you value my sanity at all, you’ll leave now,” he told her, his voice not angry, but pleading. He’d already messed up this night enough as it was, no need involving her in his work and putting her in unnecessary danger.

The patio had almost cleared out, and the men who had come out of the car on the street could be seen making their way onto the patio. Shit, shit. Without hesitation, he pulled the trigger, landing a bullet square in the chest of the man at the front, watching him fall to the floor.

And he knew, as he pulled the trigger and took a few steps forward to greet his attackers, that it was too late to get her out of here safely.

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posted on 19-11-2008 at 04:00 AM

Lately one wouldn't have seen Amelia anywhere near danger - danger seemed something of a fleeting dream; partially cause Basilio didn't want Amelia to die before taking over his prized regime but then again partially because Amelia didn't want to die and leave Dominic alone. Now death had never been an obstacle before - things had just changed over the last year or so and she guessed that she figured that it was just best to stay out of harms way.

Of course this whole self-induced boredom was catching up with her sanity but she guessed that now would be the time to divulge some of the stress that she'd been feeling over the last few months. I mean c'mon - was was a couple of bullets between the road to her happiness? She didn't think that it should matter anyway - she was no novice to this killing business just like she wasn't a novice to loving Dominic. So she figured as she stood beside Dominic that she was going to help him or help him to help herself.

Because now that there were two of them their survival rate together {seeing as though they were both adroit in this business} seemed to be working for their good. Oh well enough with the statistics, now it was coming time for the real reason she'd come out here in the first place; to kill a couple of people and hopefully stave off any further anger or resentment that she was feeling toward Dominic so that maybe the rest of her mini-vacation wouldn't be ruined by coarse words and cold shoulders.

Amelia almost seemed to actively ignore Dominic as he asked her to leave; of course hearing him but not really listening per say. Of course Amelia valued Dominic's sanity if there was even a shred complied or left between the two but she did, although he upset her on a few occasions, value his life more than she would a wooden box with his cold, lifeless body in it. She'd been to too many Dominic Ghiberti funerals already and wasn't and hadn't yet planned for another one.

Dominic took aim and fired upon an idiot who hadn't taken shade from the bullet that had come his way, crumpling to the ground, his body lifeless. That was one down and six more to go - their odds of sticking this thing out and actually making it through were getting greater by the second.

But Amelia wasn't even helping yet.

In some kind of mental instinctual move, the femme turned from Dominic's side and walked inside of the restaurant - well she wasn't going to let the guests come in without a welcoming committee. That would definitely be rude. And so without much effort she somewhat disappeared and took cover beside some foreign wall that was close to the kitchen. Within just a few seconds of her move a few men filtered into the restaurant. If they were smart they wouldn't all come from one entrance and even though she was counting on that she wasn't sure that they were that smart. Body leaned against the wall - eyes staring at the door and the two men that waltzed in - much without taking cover.

Amelia looked at her gun in distaste yet again before it seemed to become an extension of her, a single round projecting from the barrel to lodge directly into the interloper's cranium, blood spattering against his partner. The live one watched his comrade fall to the floor and his legs shook with fright.

"WHAT THE FUCK? THERE'S TWO OF 'EM!?" Came his shout as he turned around to see where the shot had come from. He fired in her general direction. Amelia slightly ducked down and rolled her eyes and in some sort of irritation stood back up and walked out in plain sight. The man turned to her but he was too late for she'd already fired off another round that caused him to fall to the ground. Just a shot in his arm. He let out a cry of sheer pain causing a twisted smile to form on her face. She walked up to him and looked him in the eyes - his fear a stench pleasing to her senses, it made her blood run just a little faster before she ended his life swiftly.

Two more down and she was pretty sure that her body count was equal to that of Dominic's but there were still four men unaccounted for. Amelia rushed back out to the patio and situated herself so that she was standing behind Dominic so that she could load a few more shells into her gun. "Orders?" She questioned. Normally she would have never taken orders from a Ghiberti or reduced herself to being a subordinate to one either but seeing as though there were some insinuating circumstances and they were engaged and she wanted to get out of this a l i v e although she was sure that wouldn't be a problem she would listen to what he wanted since he'd done this more time than she herself had.

At least for now.

{ we be tragedy }

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`londonbridge

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posted on 2-12-2008 at 10:21 PM

Of course Dominic had done this before. Whether it was at the gym, training for when he might be thrust into this sort of situation, or when he actually had to put it to practice. Something about the challenge excited him, made his heart swell in a way that he hadn’t known since he’d been kicked out of the life as the Ghiberti Don’s heir, and came to him as naturally as breathing.

He almost seemed to be a different person, back to a different time and place when he’d been the golden boy of the feared Ghiberti Empire. The way he held his head high, eyes sharp, even the way he held his gun—it was like a time warp. It was as if those physical and psychological scars that had been branded into his body and soul were erased from his history, and he was once again the same man with the easy smile and the reckless attitude that had sat at Amelia’s table that night in the café.

Even through the hard exterior, it was easy to see that Dom felt like his old self again, playing tit for tat with these men who wanted him dead. Even the cold, calculating eyes that drifted from one man to the next couldn’t mask the excitement he felt at actually having a gun pointed at him for a change. Rather than sitting in behind the tinted windows of a car or on top of a building waiting for his mark.

Of course, only an insane man would find that thrilling rather than terrifying. But Lorenzo Ghiberti had always told him just a pinch of insanity—enough to make a man quick on his feet and unafraid of death—was a necessary component of the Ghiberti blood.

He felt like a Ghiberti again. For the first time since he’d been sent away to that wretched hell hole in Italy, he felt like a god damn Ghiberti.

It still bothered him to see her like this, in the middle of the battlefield and fighting with him rather than against him. Somehow, though he’d always been painfully aware of her abilities with a weapon, it still grated against everything he’d ever understood a woman to be. He watched her silently as she stalked off into the restaurant, following her as far as the door and covering her back when she pulled the trigger. And then he felt more at ease when she was sheltered behind him, even if it was only to reload her gun.

“Yeah, I’ll give you orders,” he said, his voice strained as he lifted his gun and took another man to the ground with a single shot, watching his blood spatter and paint the once pristine floors.

“Don’t get shot.”

It might have been a flippant statement at any other time, given their line of work, but his tone said he was dead serious. At that moment, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the doorway where he stood, taking shelter behind the wall to the side of it as a bullet ricocheted off the frame, shattering glass elsewhere.

He gave her one more look, his eyes flashing with that brilliant intuition that had once been so perfectly Dominic Ghiberti, before he ducked inside the restaurant and began firing, taking out one more man and injuring two in no time at all.

God, he missed this.

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 22-12-2008 at 03:56 AM

You know it took quite a bit for Amelia to humble herself to Dominic's rule and ask him what his orders were - this was technically his fight that she was helping with or whatever. She rolled her eyes involuntarily as Dominic told her not to get shot. He was the one that had to worry about getting shot. He'd died at least twice since she'd met him and once since they'd been engaged. You know there were only so many times that he could be revived before she just got tired of him dying all together and moved on with her life.

But something told her that it probably would be that easy so as he walked into the restaurant and began shooting off rounds and impacting flesh with bullets that would surely cause their imminent demise Amelia smiled to herself and followed behind him. That was the last of them was it not? Unless she guessed another car full of those bastards decided to roll in here and pick another fight. Verdant eyes watched him and something inside of her just felt instantly re-attracted to him. She didn't know, she guessed it was the whole fighting side by side thing that made her hot underneath her clothes, but she was still stubborn and she was still upset with him.

Not that it was technically his fault or anything but it kinda was. She had to have someone to blame and all the other people were dead so the only person left was Dominic was it not? Well the battle was over, leaving Amelia to look around and tally up the body count. He'd gotten one more kill than her but if she turned around and shot Dom in the head then she was pretty sure they be even or something along the lines of that. But she was pretty sure that if any harm came to Dominic that she would be sad - pathetic was it not?

She hoped that he was proud of himself, because she was proud of him too - in a really obscure, angry way. But of course Amelia could never stay mad at Dominic could she? He had this thing about him that when the both of them were together that he just made her happy enough to forget what she was mad about in the first place. And so in loo of the fight that they'd just dominated, Amelia walked over to Dominic and slipped her hand into his and began to pull him toward the exit.

"Let's go before the cops get here, I don't think I can bail you out of jail if I'm in jail myself," She laughed a little to herself as she led him to a somewhat quick exeunt. "But this doesn't mean that you're off the hook by any stretch of the imagination..." She reminded him swiftly, a small smile upon her face. She then looked down at her hand in his and then she rose it up to her lips and pressed a soft kiss upon it. "You know I love you right?" Her voice was soft, almost inaudible but it really wasn't for anyone's ears but Dominic's in the first place. She stopped quite a ways away from the restaurant and cupped her hands over Dominic's cheeks lovingly before leaning up to press a soft yet somewhat electrifying kiss upon his lips.

It would have been totally romantic if not for the screaming of sirens that had just begun to plague the air and the all too familiar swatch of red, blue and white lights whirring and passing them one by one, but she seemed to ignore it for at that moment she continued to kiss him right there, holding onto him for what seemed to be dear life.

She just wanted to be with him; she missed this - she missed him - she...loved him. "Dominic, I miss you so much." she breathed up against his lips, leaning her forehead against his inside of her sweet surrender.

{ we be tragedy }

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`londonbridge

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posted on 24-3-2009 at 01:38 AM

The beauty of a city as busy and selfish as Los Angeles was that, despite the fact that a major shooting episode had just occurred one of the nicest restaurants in this area, most passed by without so much as glancing in the windows. Of course, there were still a few individuals standing across the street, patrons of the restaurant now reduced to cowering and shocked silhouettes, watching for any sign of movement.

Another beautiful aspect was the ease of escape. Slipping out the side door and down an alley to the next block without being seen was nothing short of child’s play for a pair like them. And he held fast onto her hand as she led him away, And he didn’t even care that he wasn’t off the hook just yet –hell, was there ever a time when he was? Only that they’d both gotten out of there without either bullets or handcuffs.

He could imagine the rumors that would spread if they hadn’t gotten out unscathed, most untrue, some not. A Ghiberti and a Manici popping up together across the country, firmly out of their family’s grasps—and spheres of protection—as they were escorted out of the restaurant with handcuffs. He could imagine the look on Lorenzo’s face, the disgust, the shame.

Not that Lorenzo’s opinions mattered to the young Ghiberti anymore. The disowned heir, the prince who’d been thrown out on his ass—into the world alone. He had no doubt that Lorenzo would have been pleased to see his traitor of a grandson finally failing, finally caught and thrown in jail for a long, long time. No honor amongst thieves; Dom knew that all his years of service in the Ghiberti organization meant next to nothing now. All he had to show for the blood, sweat, and scars were the skills that were providing his livelihood now.

Frankly, Dom didn’t care what happened to him. He had already lost everything; Amelia still had everything to lose. Her family, her future. Being caught here, now, would ruin her. He followed silently behind her and kept his eyes open, listening as the sirens drew nearer with a sense of urgency that his reckless nature rarely experienced. So when she stopped abruptly and kissed him, he came so close to stopping her and pulling away.

You know I love you, right?

A strange sense of relief seemed to calm him in that moment. His taut muscles relaxed and he held her against him, kissing her. Truthfully, it was something he had questioned. Distance and his long trips away had kept him busy, just as surely as he knew Amelia was constantly surrounded by the Manici culture, whose cornerstone was hatred for anything that bore his family name. Surely some of that resentment had built up with her, considering he’d left her so many times.

Now, he knew he had been wrong. Nothing had changed. He could still taste the love, the longing beneath his lips every time she kissed him. Felt it in every touch. As her forehead rested against his, his fingers reached up, touching the soft curls of her hair and then the smooth cheek. “I miss you, too, bella.”

But as the sirens drew nearer, he tore himself away. He couldn’t let anything distract from the reality that they had, in fact, just participated in nothing short of a bloody massacre in the middle of a crowded Los Angeles restaurant. And that they needed to make themselves scarce while Dom worked to cover their asses.

After he took her back to their room.

Again, he took her hand, this time leading her back in the direction of the hotel. It wouldn’t be a far walk, and if they kept their heads down, it wouldn’t be too difficult to get back unnoticed.

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 16-4-2009 at 01:54 AM

In light of normal circumstances, Amelia Manici would had never stopped in the middle of an escape to embrace a lover or tell them of her feelings, but she guessed that since she'd stormed out like that and caused such a fuss earlier that she at least owed it to him to hear it once or twice and what better way than after smoking a couple of dudes in a fancy restaurant? It had been a while anyway, since she'd officially been in her practice...

Call her rusty if you will but as she recounted, there were no scars across her facade or blood dripping from anywhere on her - the only blood there was had been left back in that restaurant on the tables and walls and over the cadavers that lined the floors as if they were intricate parts of the decoration there. But it was to be assumed that when you fucked around with someone of either Dom or Amelia's social stature; a mafioso of course, there was a price to be paid - one that no amount of money could ever suffice.

But of course there was no harm in trying to plea bargain before getting a bullet hole betwixt the eyes as well as having your money stolen...was there?

So as Dominic and Amelia walked back to their hotel room, trying their best to stay out of the sights of the common passerby, Amelia thought back about what had just conspired and figured that the night could have gone much worse, but that was only optimistically speaking, something that Amelia didn't do too much anymore, but it was true more than anything. Dominic could have gotten severely wounded or killed (which seemed impractical now after all of the funerals and tears that had been cried over him ) or Amelia could have gotten kidnapped when she went back to the hotel room or wounded herself.

She just wished that she'd had enough time to plan for all of this; maybe then she wouldn't have come out in a dress.

But you have to admit she did look classier than usual. But that was because Amelia had figured at the beginning of this that Dominic deserved nothing but the best and since they were actually going to get to go out together on a real date...

It was pointless thinking that way, the night had been all but ruined already, there was no reason to fill it with minor disappointments.

In what seemed to be no time, they entered through the doors of the hotel and brisquely walked through the lobby, up the elevator with one or two worsd to the people who were riding inside along with them and then strolled off of the elevator and down the hall to their room. All in all it was an expedient journey and safe for the most part. The key was brandished and the door that had been once locked was open - a release on Amelia's heart was felt as she entered the room to their sanctuary; if only for a couple of more nights.

A small and almost inaudible sigh emitted from Amelia's lips as she began to walk deeper into the room, slender fingers brushing through her chocolate tresses as legs simultaneously led her over to the side of the bed. Throughout the little expedition, they'd barely said anything to each other and when Amelia opened the door and walked through, her back had been all but to Dominic, but that's only because she'd been thinking. And so she kind of turned around for a second and managed a half apologetic smile for everything that had conspired over the last few hours before turning around.

Ater looking away from him she looked down at her shoes where fingers followed suit and maneuvered a bit in efforts to lazily undo one clasp, the action repeated on the other; her fetters tumbled to the ground. Amelia then leaned over a bit more, a vast amount of tendrils spilling over on one side of her face as she reached back to undo her dress, but her hands couldn't quite catch the zipper. She somewhat sat up and looked back, "Can you help me with this?" She asked softly, gently - her voice almost a coo.

Well, after this dramatic turn of events - a little flirtation never hurt anyone right?

{ we be tragedy }

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`londonbridge

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posted on 11-5-2009 at 05:31 AM

There were two worlds in which Dominic resided. One in which he could have easily been mistaken for any businessman who wasted away his life working for corporate America. He had enough business suits and ties, enough cunning and intelligence working behind those dark brown eyes to easily pass for some high powered attorney or up-and-coming banker on Wall Street.

The other half—the proper half—of his life had been consumed by the Underworld. The same cunning and intelligence, quick thinking that could save his life on a dime, suited him right down to the ground. His gun, an extension of himself, defined who Dominic Ghiberti was, who he had been, and who he always would be. It was a symbol of his lifestyle, the one in which he could pull a trigger and—shock of all shocks—walk away with no remorse.

Sometimes he wondered about that. He’d killed before, certainly, but what was supposed to be the most tragic, most earth-shattering tragedy to ever happen to a person barely fazed him. Men had been institutionalized for just seeing dead bodies, nevermind actually planting the smoking hole themselves.

He should volunteer for some kind of psychological experiment, he thought, as he made his way through the streets, smiling to himself. But then again, they would probably unearth some deep seated problems that went far beyond his unconventional view of morality. Did he really want to know what lay beneath the veneer he had constantly polished and repolished over the years? Probably not.

But that same veneer—the suave composure of the Mafioso—and the one of a businessman out with his fiancé melded in that instant. He was walking away from his crime scene; their crime scene. Bodies were cooling with every step they took toward the hotel room, yet he and Amelia looked every bit the part of a young couple out for a walk after dinner. The pair together, he realized, had a certain magnetism in their appearance that instantly drew glances, but not the ones they should have. Those men who eyed Amelia’s lovely body, every curve hugged by the satiny material of her dress, along with those women who studied the angular planes of his face with interest, knew nothing of their sins. And in that instant, they were chameleons. Cool and calm and collected, a paradox in their own right, though no one knew it.

This alone brought Dominic more satisfaction than any dead body. Sometimes, drowning in the sea of the media that followed him like a dark raincloud, he forgot that it was possible for him to appear normal—even if it was only a pretense. And he never would have survived the crush of cameras and microphones if he so much as showed up within a block of Amelia Manici, let alone walked down the street hand in hand, occasionally wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her hair, or her cheek.

His resolve to treat her to a lovely night had slipped earlier, but only out of necessity. Now they could pick up where they left off.

In their hotel room, he immediately divested himself of the suit jacket, tossing it unceremoniously on the chair in the corner of the room. His work as of late had necessitated nothing but jeans and his old, worn out leather jacket, and he found the suits unbearably claustrophobic. The next thing to come off was the gun holster that the jacket had concealed, which was laid with such care on the dresser that it might as well have been some sacred object from an era long gone. His fingers were working briskly at the tie when he heard Amelia’s soft voice caress the air around him, drawing his eyes to her figure across the room.

“Sure,” he said. Later, he would not remember when he had actually crossed the room—however, the moment his large hand settled at her hip while the other gingerly grasped the zipper, would always be crystal clear. Holding his breath like at the climax of a movie, he slowly drew it down, the sweet scent of her dark hair lulling him into a sense of security he hadn’t known since he’d boarded the plane headed for LA. The minimal contact of his finger against her bare skin hit him like a brick wall, like a long-awaited homecoming.

His other hand strayed from her hip, instead rising to push every soft brown lock of hair over one shoulder, leaving the opposite side of her neck exposed. Dominic leaned in, his lips hovering over the soft flesh at the elegant curve of her neck. His breath caressed her neck for several moments before he finally planted a soft kiss to her shoulder.

And he let her dress, a mere formality for he knew every curve of her body like an intimate secret, fall to the floor.

Ooc; I was feeling sappy.

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 29-5-2009 at 07:12 PM

Amelia knew that she had been wrong earlier for the things that she'd done and said, and yes a part of you could blame the girl for her outburst and discredit it to being part of her infamous 'drama queen' facade, wanting everything she wanted when she wanted it. But could the other, more rational side blame her for wanting a 'normal' relationship? All of Amelia's life she'd been brought up to think that the life she was living now was the 'American Dream'. Their families were wealthy, their families were powerful - but no one had ever told Amelia that once she'd taken that gun at fifteen that power came with a price.

Of course she'd grown accustomed to it all of the years, being chaperoned, carrying a concealed weapon with her at all times - doing whatever she wanted when she wanted and not having anyone say anything about it. She'd also been desensitized to the boys that her father and grandfather had brought around, Tevye being the stark contrast to Amelia's Dominic or the other one that she couldn't quite remember off of the top of her head.

Don’t get me wrong, Amelia would never even dreamed of turning in her hand gun for a bib and a soccer ball, because that's not who she was trained up to be, but remembered back in the day when she used to fantasize about marrying a man with an honest nine to five and that she was going to be his queen and they were going to raise up a perfect family that would go to a nice public school and live the life. Ha, that had turned out hadn't it? And so she guessed that sometimes she envied the girl in the backroom, Amelia always having been the one in the spotlight. She didn't know - she guessed that the cameras had lost their luster and the blood and faces had all been seen before.

Amelia was restless, and that was a feeling that she'd never felt before. She wasn't sure where her excitement had gone but she guessed that it had been thrown away with all of the crying and pain that she'd endured. She was not happy because she was not free; and Dom was free but in the same respect he was not because he was still connected to someone who herself was bound with the fetters of oppression. And that wasn't fair to anyone because Amelia never dreamed of holding anyone back...

Especially not Dominic.

Partially because she stayed at home worrying all of the time; Dom was always away or just their long enough for a kiss and a touch. Maybe she was just selfish to the point where she wanted to spend time with him, not that time was anywhere in the marriage contract. But maybe Dominic didn't want to get married, maybe neither of them did and they just liked the idea of being married to one another. These were some of the things that she thought about when he was away. She would think of more, but she didn't want to spoil her mood.

He came to her and rested his hands against her, causing her eyes to slip closed just a bit - because this was a treat that she seldom got to behold. She reached back and stroked his cheek lightly with the back of her hand tracing the definition of his jaw with her slender finger tips and then up and up until she reached his hair. She did love Dominic, there was no question in that. If she didn't love him and continued to stay with him, well, then she would just be stupid - after everything that they'd been through together. But she still wondered sometimes... when she looked into his eyes if she would find love or if she would see something else...

But he always had a way to reassure her that he cared, his soft touches and kisses reclaiming her heart all over again.

And so as they hid away from the public eye in their hotel room, Amelia began to lose herself to Dominic like she did the very first time that her lips met his, so long ago. Slowly, her body turned toward him, the remnant stitches of black silk slipping from her body onto the floor. Her lips collided gently with his flesh; his cheek, his neck, his forehead. All kisses posed slowly and softly across his countenance as she took in the sweet and distinct taste that belonged to her lover. She didn't want to close her eyes in fear that he would disappear right off from beside her and she kept her eyes open as she continued her act, a small smile forming upon her lips.

Then her lips came to his, like a welcoming mat, across the threshold of their love, and just hovered their for a second, her slender fingers pushing their way down his face and across his chest and there she waited for a moment, taking in short breaths of his air before planting a kiss upon his lips, staying there for a few moments before pulling away, the taste something new and exhilarating.

But there was always a second time.

"Okay, you're still here..." She whispered gently, before she came to him again, eyes slipping closed, her body pressing against his as she engaged with him again, this one much more forceful and full of longing.

{ we be tragedy }

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`londonbridge

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posted on 3-8-2009 at 04:46 PM

He seemed able to sense the tension as her lips hovered hesitantly over his, and so he allowed her to pull away and watched, silently, as her eyes came to meet his own. His skin came alive beneath her fingers as they traced over him, even the minimal contact of her hands across his face, his chest, setting his senses aflame. Sometimes, he wondered why she didn’t bore him after so long together; after all, no one had ever captured his attentions for so long. Not even Angela.

But then, all she had to do was whisper his name, kiss him, and he remembered precisely why, after these two years, he had never been able to leave her behind. Forget her name, her face. Even when his life had very nearly ended back in the hell hole in Italy, he hadn’t regretted anything—except perhaps leaving her alone for so long when she so obviously hurt, and still had the scars to prove it.

He didn’t regret a thing. If he had, he would have walked away a long time ago. And that particular alternative turned his stomach when he considered how he could be missing out on this. Her touch, her taste. The exquisite smell of her hair as he ran his fingers through it.

”Okay, you’re still here…”

His eyes turned to hers, studying as a smirk broke across his lips. His fingers touched her cheeks, down her neck and across her shoulders before she pressed herself against him and continued what she had started with such longing that it nearly stole his breath. His arms came around her, clutching her soft curves against him like a lifeline as he returned her kisses with an identical longing he had felt since she had surprised him earlier that day with her visit.

After a moment, he pulled back, that smile still on his face. His eyes had darkened, intoxicated by the electricity that eternally sparked between them.

“I’ll always be here, bella,” he told her on a murmur, the few words injected with such honesty and unbending loyalty for this woman that it would have shocked anyone who thought they knew the reckless playboy he had once been. And though his particular line of work put him at opposite ends of the earth for weeks at a time, he would do his best to keep that promise any way he knew how.

He kissed her again, his hands wandering over her again before moving to the buttons of his shirt. He needed to be near her now, needed to recognize the low burning embers just beginning to ignite into something far more intense, more dangerous. And so he led her back to the bed, warm and open and welcoming, lost in the haze of her touch, the heady and alluring fragrance coming from her skin, the taste of her mouth beneath his.

His lips wandered to the soft curve of her neck, inhaling deeply as his fingers buried themselves in her hair. He breathed soft words against her skin, and whether they were products of lust or the wine he had consumed earlier, he didn’t know. But what came from his mouth next passed through his mental filter unchecked, so that later, he would hardly recall exactly what was said.

“I love you, Angela.””

fishing for eden.

tragedySCENE!

caution! tears falling.

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posted on 5-12-2009 at 08:03 PM

ooc: I can edit this if you hate it. really glad to be posting though :3

She could feel her breath stopping inside of her chest as his lips glazed over her skin; could feel an eruption of tingles rage against her flesh as he pulled her closer. She had not been with him like this in what seemed to be ages and whether it was the fact that she loved him or he was a good fuck seemed almost irrelevant at this time. All she wanted was to be next to him, breathe him in, and get lost within the rages of their passion.

Even now, she could feel the embers burning deeper and hotter for him - the fire within her spirit lusting after him as they drew closer to the point in which their bodies would collide. She pulled his body down to hers as he laid her back on the bed, her tongue darting out to caress the tip of his ear before tracing down to his cheek, breathing him in as she listened to him breathe. It was then that her body began the anticipation of what was coming, her thighs pressing up against his, letting them rub gently. He was still there, against her, all indicators of such being that she could feel her body began to heat all over. And then he said the words that she loved to hear come out of his mouth,

”I love you, Angela..."

At first it didn't register within her mind so she continued moving her body against him, hands running up to rest at the nape of his neck, but then when it clicked, her eyes opened and she looked at Dominic, stopping and letting her hips fall back against the bed with a soft patter. "You love me, Angela?" She dropped her grip from him and recoiled in that single instant pushing him away from her. Her face looked astonished at what she'd heard,

"You called me... Angela..." she could feel the heat inside of her being replaced by what seemed to be a cold front, smothering all of the desires that she'd had for him - in just a single moment. In efforts not to start screaming, she squeezed her eyes and got up from the bed, coughing a little bit, feeling sickness roll inside of her stomach. Without a word, she began her journey toward the bathroom, walking over to her things and grabbing one of Dominic's old t-shirts before going to the bathroom, closing the door, and locking it behind her.

All she could feel was anger burning through her while she removed the rest of her clothing and replaced her nakedness with Dominic's shirt. She moved toward the counter, a shaky hand reaching over to grab one of the water glasses as she continued to cough, a product of her current situation, turning on the water and filling up the glass before pressing it to her mouth to take a small sip. She kept the water running, not really giving much of a damn as she went to sit on the edge of the hotel's tub, resting her free hand in her hair as she stared down at the ground.

Damn.

Amelia wasn't going to get upset, she was just going to count to ten and she would be alright. One. The glass was then again lifted to her lips again but before she could even reach two, or take a sip from her glass, her anger began to boil over and before she knew it, the glass was hurdling through the air and had smashed into a neighboring wall - a combination of shards and liquid running down as a result. She covered her face with her hands, trying to breathe in, but it wasn't working. She stood to her feet and walked over to the counter, grabbing anything and everything that could possibly be lifted and thrown. This chaos went on for a few minutes but in the instance that it started, it stopped and Amelia came out of the bathroom, closing the door quietly, and walking to the opposite side of the bed where Dominic was, laying down and closing her eyes.

{ we be tragedy }

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Twilight-Sky » City & Apartment » The Cinders Fell Like Snow [18+]

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