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I fixed the rose with my eyes, not believing he really did this. The pale flower looked fragile, contrasting with his jagged hand.
“You don’t have to take it if you don’t want, Cat. Fuck, this was a bad idea.”
“No, no!” I jumped to him and took the rose. “I just never imagined you’d…thank you.”
My heart bent painfully in my chest. I didn’t know how, but the Albanian Monster had turned into a gentle giant. Again, that feeling of power and uncorrupted satisfaction returned, for he was like this only for me. The same man that made an entire street stop in fear when he stepped outside was warm to me. He killed and destroyed; I could bathe in all the blood he had spilled, but still he made me feel protected and safe because to me, he was now the man who brought me a white rose on a random Friday afternoon.
“You’re welcome.”
“Come sit with me by the fire.”
We went back together, and he settled on the light blue hand-tufted rug while I made myself comfortable between his legs with my back pressing into his chest. For the longest time, I sat there, not talking, just smelling my rose and looking at the flames dancing. I closed my eyes and listened to his breath, feeling his chest moving up and down with every breath, and let myself enjoy his presence. The most feared man on the East Coast was wrapped around me with his forearm around my waist with the most gentle touch.
“This is nice,” I said with my lids still closed and a smile on my face.
“Yeah. I…I don’t do it often.”
“What? Cuddling?” I wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
“No.” He laughed. “I never do that. I was talking about being still like this, not thinking. It is nice.”
And keeping him like that was my priority right from then on.
