mar3ggiata

[mar3ggiata]

bleed a little louder

simon riley x oc

tw: violence, sexual themes, blood and gore, breeding kink, pregnancy, slow burn, enemies to lovers, forced relationship (consensual), mentions of alcohol consumption, swearing, children.

about: after 6 years of war, the world is destroyed, economy collapsed, institutions dismantled. the Women take charge of the politics and focus on rebuilding society, while Men fight a pointless war. It’s 2036 when Simon finds his way to a daffodils meadow to rest and die. Instead of peacefully passing, he gets awaken by a beautiful girl, threatening to stab him if he doesn’t get out of her garden.

taglist info: please comment or reblog this post to be added

other works by the author: professional help & TNOTT (sequel)

note: this has been in my head for a very long time and i also posted a million spoilers, here’s an introduction (finally) <3

‘There’s a man outside.’

Her head snapped in the direction of the voice. The little girl was standing in the middle of the living room, daffodils in her hand, her skirt dirty with mud. A younger version of her staring unbothered at the woman.

‘A what?’

The girl was calm, she just shrugged and nodded her head in the direction of the garden.

‘Stay here with your brother’, she asserted before making her way to the drawer where she kept her gun.

‘I think he’s dead, mom.’

The woman froze. A rush of adrenaline and anxiety filled her chest, and rage and anger. Dead? If he’s not dead by the time I get there I'm killing him with my bare hands. She let go of the gun and got out the door. The garden extended for some kilometres on the left side of the house, it was quite unkept at the moment, some patches of grass greener, poor child must have seen him while she was picking flowers…

It had been a while since the last encounter she had with a soldier. If he was French they weren’t gonna have any problems, she’d discard the body in the woods. If he was Russian, he had to wish he was dead. If he was English, he was definitely dead already. She tied her hair while strutting to the garden, made her way through the flowers. He was a black spot in the middle of the yellow sea of flowers. He was quite large, she approached him without making a sound. He had a rifle gun laying beside him, he didn't look like he was breathing.

He had a mask on, a skull printed mask. Freak. How fucking dare you die in my garden?

She studied his gear, he had a knife strapped to his muscular thigh, the holster of a handgun was empty. English flag on his sleeve, lazy fuck, I knew it…

He’s dead. Those men were the weakest.

I could keep you, she thought. I could keep you to study. I wonder if your insides are made of the same matter as mine, are you flesh and bone and muscle? She imagined carving his chest open to reach for his heart, would she even find anything in his chest? That brown stuff on your gloves, is it blood? Must be… She wondered if she killed him, how many would she avenge. How many lives would she save by killing one of the monsters.

She finally managed to get closer, she kicked his rifle away and squatted down beside him. The chirping of the birds accompanied her movements, they could see how anxious she was…

She reached for his knife when she saw his eyelashes flutter. Her blood went cold and she saw herself dead for a second, blood splattering the flowers. She saw her house on fire, him killing her kids… He had to come to die in her fucking garden, of all places, and now, he had her dirtying her skirt. Blood is always so hard to wash off…

She had the blade at his throat before he could fully open his eyes.

Dying in May wasn’t really the plan. It takes some courage, dying in such a pretty season, when the flowers bloom and the air is soft on your face. He always pictured his death to happen in the winter. The red of the blood, rubies dripping in the white blanket of snow in some remote mountain. He wanted to die after a good fight. A gunshot to the head, simple and efficient. But dying in May…

Down by the banks of the stream in Zurich, he imagined silvery pikes to swim down, not the bodies of other soldiers. Carried and lulled to sleep by the flow.

Simon, rest for a second, he had heard the wind say. It carried the voices of the dead, the whisper of his brothers. They gently pulled him to the ground, the flowers moved their stems to accomodate for his tired body to sleep. He understood the time he had left wasn't gonna be enough to ask forgiveness for all his sins.

He mumbled a prayer, though he had never prayed before. ‘Mother…’ he thought he said. A lament, a dying scream of help. And the flower listened. The grip on the rifle loosened.

Aainst his teeth words of defeat, too ice-cold to dissolve in the heat.

When he felt the air fill his lungs again it hurt. It was like being born again, chest cracking, lungs expanding with his first breath, for the first time. The sun was heavy on his eyelids and he regained consciousness slowly. His reflexes were still sharp after 5 years of war. He had heard a noise, but when his hand tried to grip his gun, he realised it was no longer in his hand. Death put some more pressure on his chest, hushing him and urging him to sleep.

He defeated the sunlight and peeked at the source of the noise above him. It wasn’t Death that was pushing him down, but a hand. An arm, a shoulder.

A woman.

The leaders of society. He hadn’t seen a Woman in months, had been close to one in years…

Just his luck, hu?

She must have gotten his knife, which was pointed at his throat. Even if he got scared, he sure couldn't move. It was like the grass or the pollen poisoned him. And the woman now, was interfering with his solemn eternal rest.

The woman.

She was looking at him with her eyebrows furrowed. She was knees deep in the dirt, her hand pressed firmly on his shoulder. Her hair was falling on her shoulder, dangling between them. She held the blade and her arm was shaking. She covered the sun with her figure, making the rays behind engulf her figure like she was bathing in sunlight.

‘You’re not allowed to die here’, she was saying. She spoke English.

His ears hadn't heard the melody of a human voice in years. Suddenly, the ringing stopped. The gunshots, the screaming. He wanted to ask her to repeat just so he could die with a nice sound in his ears. Her eyes were filled with anger, her chest raising and falling rapidly with sharp and quick breaths.

His muscles weren't working, even if he wanted to pronunce an answer he doubted he had the capacity, both to formulate words and to push them out. He looked at her some more, and she just got more angry.

‘Leave or I’ll kill you’, she said.

Out of all the ways Simon could and should have died, being stabbed by an angel like her sounded like a good deal.

Simon, why don't you rest, said the wind. He felt a breeze on his face, on the exposed skin of his wrists, she felt it too, the hairs of her forearm sticking up with goosebumps. He indulged in the pressure of the woman’s hand on his body. He took another look at her, maybe I'll remember your pretty eyes in Hell.

It takes courage dying in May, after seeing a beautiful creature for the first time in years. It makes you wonder, if you had another life. Another chance. To be different, your hands being used to bring pleasure, to hold, to caress, to feel, instead of to kill. Your eyes seeing the stars, the butterflies and the smiles of people, instead of corpses, blood and devastation. To taste food, to have a bed and the right to be happy. Your body held, fed, loved. To be a human.

Maybe in another life.

While Simon prepared to die, the wind spoke to Hanya. Look at him, the wind said.

If there was something she hated, it was Men. She didn't believe in ghosts, nor did she believe in myths or destiny, she wasn’t superstitious, she wasn’t easily impressed nor easily scared. And what she hated the most, was Men.

One other thing about Hanya though… she was kind.

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula 10 - preview

'Where were you?'

He got stopped by Johnny on the way to his room. He froze. He was tired, physically and mentally, he just wanted a good night of sleep, whatever he could get, resting his eyes, nightmares, he was down for anything. Still, he stopped. Cause it was Johnny and he had respect for the man. He wanted to argue thought, and Ghost knew.

'Where were ya, with her?'

His tone was harsh and accusatory, made Ghost roll his eyes. He knew what he was gonna say.

'It's late Johnny'.

'You two made up uh? Had a good chat?' Ghost felt the man take a step towards him. He clearly didn’t understand why Ghost had to go see her. He wasn’t in the interrogation room, he didn’t know what she had told them. Did he really have no empathy for her, or was it just Ghost so… weak?

‘You’re back to being boyfriend and girlfriend eh, like nothing happened? You’re fucking a terrorist?’

He turned around at that point.

They stayed there for a while, his hands tangling in her hair, her arms solidly wrapped around his midsection. Caring, sweet. A gentle touch, no pressure, no pain, no blood. After a good while, when he thought she would never move again, she looked at him.

'I'm falling asleep.' She said.

He almost smiled, almost proud of himself, for making her so relaxed and feel so safe and good she nearly fell asleep. He looked down at her, her eyes red and tired, her pale skin glistening under the harsh light of the toilet. 'I'll let you go to bed'.

He noticed she was looking at Jinx, the dog was by the door sitting and looking at them confused.

‘Does he need to…’

‘I didn’t have time…’ She started, her voice so soft and fragile like she was gonna cry.

‘ Go eat. Where are your keys?’

She signalled a pretty, pastel blue ceramic bowl on the coffee table, where a few hair ties and her keys were. He got the leash, Jinx started to get excited and jumped around the room. He got his harness and struggled to put it on. By the time they got out the door, she had a dumb smile on her face. Still sitting at the counter, she indulged in the warm feeling in her chest, in the ghost of his embrace.

notes: i’m alive (barely) and ive missed writing. i’m still trying to pass all my exams and i… got a job..?

more coming soon!

[mar3ggiata]

i’ve been gone for a million years, but i still think about UN diplomat girly and world war II simon A LOT. so…

as we all know they decide to pretend to be a family, him, her and her two adopted kids. the russians were coming to get all the british soldiers and blending in in Zurich was the best option for Simon. That was what many of the men who fought with him did anyways, he assumed it was right. the women were kind enough to let them stay for a bit… he just would have gone back to manchester once the peace treaties were done, no big deal.

our girl Hanya is not as happy, he’s invading her space, her bathroom, her bed, he’s…

the youngest child, the boy, loves him, follows him everywhere. sometimes Simon picks him up, throwing him on his shoulder, and he chuckles so much and laughs, he pretends he’s flying.

the oldest, the girl, is a bit skeptical. she’s 14 and very smart. she notices when Hanya begins to get close to Simon. or rather, she notices Simon’s behaviour first. him subtly touching her hand, grazing. him leaning towards her when she’s speaking, holding the door open…

but the real telling something is off is Hanya. she’s not actively avoiding him anymore. she even smiles sometimes. she sits with him when the children go to bed, they watch tv on opposite ends of the sofa.

one time she gets up to get some water in the middle of the night. when she walks past Hanya’s bedroom, the door is slightly open, she peeks in. in the dim light, she can see them in bed. Hanya’s back to her, she can see Simon’s large arm around her ribcage. Hanya’s hair is messy and undone on the pillow, she can’t see their faces, they’re tangled together, holding each other so tightly, what? why?

thought he was gonna leave anyways…

they go out, all four, to some community events they have to attend. Hanya keeps her distance from Simon when they’re in public, they stay close to the kids and chat with other families, drink some soft drinks and enjoy the sun. if enemy troops walk by, Simon gets to her side. sometimes they stop and look at the crowd. ‘come here’ he whispers. the music still plays, the children are laughing, the world is spinning but danger is watching them. he tugs at her waist, his arm around her midsection. she lets him pull her towards him, instinctively reaching for his chest. his shirt has a few buttons undone, she slides her hands on his pecs. ‘hey’ he murmurs, she knows what that means.

she lifts her eyes to find him looking at her, his hair shining in the sunlight, his skin pale and adorned with milky white scars. his nose nudges hers and she feels her legs weak. he’s all over her, she can feel his hips pressed to hers, his hard legs, she’s nearly lifted off her feet to meet his face.

he kisses her gently and doesn’t pull away. her hands find his cheeks, smooth and soft cause he shaved that morning. he’s grown a moustache. they kiss again, then again, small affectionate kisses. she sucks on his lower lip and when she opens her mouth to breathe he kisses her again, filling her mouth with his tongue. on her tippy toes, she feels him press his hands on her back, impossibly close. their tongues dance together for a brief moment. this is not the time and place to get carried away, and we’re supposed to act normal, that’s why we’re doing this.

if it was for him, he wouldn’t have stopped. fuck all these people, fuck pretending, fuck the children (the other children, not theirs). he watches her, the same red, puffy and wet lips he kissed say ���that’s enough’.

she turns to see if the troops are gone. he doesn’t want to let her go yet, and she obliges.

as if she likes it…

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 9

simon riley x oc

'A blessing, her.'

They studied each other like two animals, two predators, one or the other was gonna attack at any second. The only sound between the two of them was the dog. Panting and clicking of his nails on the floor, a small whine, a crave for affection and attention every now and then. They stood for what felt like 20 minutes in silence. She took in his features, what she could cause he was masked. He was present only with his body, not mind. She could feel it, judgment and fury. He was the first to speak, his accent heavy on his tongue.

'I haven't asked somebody on a date since… pff, college.'

She felt her eye twitch. She wondered if this was a good idea after all.

She wasn't the type to fall for the 'I'm not used to dating' lie. Thing is, with him, she wasn't sure it was a lie. She was pretty sure it could be true, he hadn't been dating, like anyone. Ever. But why, was it the job, yes, maybe. Was it his past? Or his personality, at first even she didn't like him that much, truth be told. It was nearly impossible not to have had any experience at all in that field. Meeting someone at the bar, at a coffee shop, on the bus, it happened all the time. Did he claim he was exempt? Why was he thirty-two and single? If she got to know him in the past month and liked him enough to fantasise about him in her bed, why was he acting like it was so out of the blue? She was sure other women must have done it before.

Most importantly, why her? Why, she was different? How? Wasn't it incredibly wrong that he had chosen her after being so far away from romance? She felt like she had to be worried.

'Why now?' She asked.

He scoffed and raised his shoulders. Too hard of a question, too revealing. He moved his eyes from her figure to the ground, to the cabinets behind her, the lamp on the coffee table. Anywhere beside her face.

'Felt like it.'

She nodded, even thought he wasn't looking at her. She remembered all the times she spoke to him with such grace and kindness. Maybe it was a first for him. She had been so careful around his sharp edges, that’s why he got close to her. She wasn’t scared of him and she treated him well. Like he was good and like he was a person. She gave him time. And she was gonna do the same now, this was even more difficult for him. She didn’t even know where she was getting the strength to be so kind, she was so so sleepy...

‘Do you regret it?’

His expression was indescribable, not only cause she couldn’t see his face. A small part of her was terrified he was gonna say yes, for a moment the thought of it came to her mind and sent a shiver down her back.

‘I don't know.’ He said. More than enough.

They were still standing, him in the middle of the living room, her behind the counter.

‘Want to sit down?’ she asked. It was probably gonna be too much for him, to indulge in sitting on her couch, she doubted he’d say yes. Standing made the conversation formal. He reluctantly nodded and awkwardly made his way to the sofa. She watched as he moved the blanked to not sit on it, she watched the fabric of his blue jeans twist and bend and adjust to his thighs stretching. She came out of her hiding and carefully approached him. She sat down in silence and away from him, even though the sofa wasn’t the largest. She made no sound like she was made of air and thoughts.

Domestic. Normal and simple. The sofa, her sweatpants. Comfortable and warm, usual.

A blessing, her. And still, he had no idea who she was.

‘How didn’t I see it?’ He asked, appalled. Suddenly realising he had been fooled with such ease and such grace. He had trusted her hands caressing his own, her sweet words, her big emerald eyes. Like a fool.

Jinx came towards him and sniffed his legs, his first instinct was to pet his head right between his ears. He sat in front of him and Simon felt blessed. The dog panted, a twisted smile, tongue sticking out. Simon took his head in his hands in a way that made Eva’s heart sink and jump. Blood rushed down her legs, a weight pooling at the base of her stomach at the sight of his hands, his sleeve tattoo poking out of his jacket. He still had his jacket on, why. Was he planning to go so soon? He cradled the dog’s face between his hands, delicate for a soldier. He softened the fur on his head, on his ears, around his mouth. He took his time cuddling Jinx and he let him, he had always been a clingy dog. Belgian Malinois, they are police dogs, no?

‘Jinx, up.’ She ordered and the dog obeyed. He got up between them on the sofa, but his back was turned to Simon this time. He faced her cause she called him and gave him a command, he was a good dog. Still, Simon’s hands didn’t leave the dog’s fur. She let her back relax on he couch, so that he could see him. She felt his gaze on her face and raised her eyes.

‘You couldn’t know. No one, colleagues, patients, your 141…’

‘Yes, but I’m not like them.’

His statement made her breath hitch. His statement and the fact he said it, and meant it. Cause he looked like he meant it, his dark eyes were fixated on hers, pupils dilated but sincere. His features looked relaxed, sad even.

He was right.

‘I know’. She nodded. He waited for her to continue. Her lips parted, he saw her control her breathing like she was nervous, half of her body covered from his view by Jinx.

‘There are things I don’t know as well, no?’ She insisted, tilting her head. Simon noticed she kept pressing her eyelid shut for a few seconds every now and then, like something was bothering her, an eyelash or…

‘It’s not the same’, he argued.

‘Uh, how is it different?’

‘Cause I never lied, I just never told you’.

‘It’s the same, Simon, you knew everything about Alba’.

‘I don’t care about Alba, I care about you.’

She stayed silent at that, and he did too. He felt like now that he said that, he actually felt better. She wasn't screaming at him, she didn't look disgusted or terrified by him. Surprised, yes. Jinx put his paw on the girl's shoulder, demanding attention. She said something to brush him off, Simon scratched a spot on his back, making him turn around and focus his attention on him. She looked down at her hands, bending her legs so her feet rested on the sofa.

'I singed an agreement', she mumbled.

'Okay, it's not like you're known to be obedient'.

She breathed a laugh out of her nose, 'Not for this, I had to.'

She pressed her eyelids shut again and blinked a few times. It was the migraine.

Jinx relaxed his paws on Simon's legs and laid his head on his lap. Adorable. He didn't complain and began scratching the fur behind his ears again.

'You can't tell cause they're looking for you? He asked. 'You're family, they don't…'

She shook her head. 'Those who chose to go against the mob to work with the justice system end up dead, most of the time. Well, actually, everyone ends up dead anyways…’ She brought her hands to her face and rubbed her eyes. 'They just know I got scared and I didn't want to live like that anymore and left forever. They would never forgive me'.

He nodded and tried to picture a society, a family in a situation like hers. Where business and money and power is more important than a daughter. It hit him like a wave, the realisation this was painful for her as well. The loneliness, the thought of her family hating her. He felt guilt growing in his chest like a flower in bloom. He was being selfish.

'How does it work, you were supposed to stay your whole life?'

She seemed to think about it. She seemed to be gathering her thoughts.

'It's family after all… We have a very traditional… we are very conservative down south. Family is important, tradition and culture.' She started. 'We don't really trust each other in the south, we fear everyone we try to do business with is trying to fuck with us. That's why we resort to violence and threats. There are rules to get in the clan, there are rituals and procedures to be followed. And the south's always been poorer and underdeveloped, overtime violence just became a means to assert dominance over a particular area, a neighbourhood. Or a business, like drugs like I did.' She shook her head like she was trying to make the thought go away.

'All sorts of things, wildlife smuggling, looting, extortion during the elections, things that have to do with construction permits and licences or…' she bit her lip, 'illegal disposing of garbage so you can dispose of…' a whisper '…other things too…'

He raised his eyebrows, ‘And the police know. Secret services…'

She nodded, 'Oh yeah. If you ask, the mafia does not exist.' Her eyes suddenly looked dark, void and cruel. 'They're scared Simon, everyone's scared.'

'How can people live like that, how has no one ever stopped them?’

'They tried. You better do what they say, people die. Your son gets kidnapped, you get shot in the street, your car explodes with your family inside.' That was what she did, explosives in a car.

'You can die by mistake, cause they're meant to kill someone that looks just like you. You can die cause there's a bomb on the train. In a shooting. You can look at someone for a second too long and be suspected of interfering with business. You tell the police, you're dead.' She raised her shoulders. 'It's just the way it is.'

‘And you… the bomb’

She stared at a specific spot in the corner of the room, replaying the memories in her head.

‘They got what they deserved.’

He got chills. She was scary. She was creepy in the same way she was pretty. He got the sense there was something cruel and twisted about how she was raised, led her to believe, in the end, killing that child and getting revenge was the most honourable thing she could do. A very ancient way to do justice as well, private justice, bloody and gruesome revenge. Very conservative and cruel, an eye for an eye. Fucking cruel even for him. Did she think about violence now the same way she thought about it then? Was that why she didn't mind working with war? Potentially going out with someone like him, also. It wasn’t anything he didn’t do before. His family got murdered. And you best believe who did it got what they deserved.

He just nodded. It was sad. He underestimated it, he never really knew what the whole Italian thing was, he guessed it was ordinary organised crime. He had a strange feeling, in the pit of his stomach, he was grossed out by her tale, by what she had to endure, he felt what they must have felt, helplessness. And he felt guilty again. After all those years, after what he had done and the people he had killed he started to think of himself as a monster, a killing machine, a numb, cruel fucking assassin and now her? She did the exact same thing, she was hiding years of criminality under a fake name and a job as a therapist. How come he didn’t think of her as a monster?

‘I didn’t expect it to be a lie.’

‘I know… I never wanted to hurt people.’

She blinked a few times like she was gonna cry.

'You okay?' He finally asked.

'No it's just my contact lenses… my eyes are tired.' She said and pressed her pointer finger to the corner of her eye. He noticed the scratched skin of her finger, where she basically ripped off all her cuticles.

'Want to…'

'Yes'. She sighed and got up, she went to the toilet. He slid his hands under Jinx's paws to get up. He stripped of his jacket to leave it on the sofa. He followed her to the toilet and she was already bending down towards the sink, contacts balanced on her fingers. He had never seen her toilet. She had a blue robe. One toothbrush. Her laundry basket was full. She turned her head to her right, noticing he had followed her. She was prepared to question his behaviour, he had to explain.

'Do you have plasters?'

She turned to him with a contact on her pointer finger. She looked confused. She closed the small white case and opened one of the drawers. He watched her, her tired eyes from the mirror, her unbrushed hair. He took in a glance of his reflection behind her. His broad figure towering over her, his dark clothes, the mask, he looked so out of place. And scary, he thought to himself. He looked dangerous, he looked like Ghost, like what his enemies saw in the field. Why, why did he have to bring that here? With her. And why wasn’t she bothered, she had opened her door to him, welcomed him on her couch.

She handed him the plasters without asking questions. They were standing close, the toilet wasn’t exactly wide.

He took the box between his hands and emptied it on the counter. ‘What..’ she whispered. He didn’t flinch. He took one of the bandaids and laid out his hand to her. She raised her eyes at him, her back turned to the mirror. Not trusting him enough. He looked at her for a few seconds, trying his best to keep his expression calm. His eyes explored on her face, so close he could bend down and his nose would brush against hers. Her eyes, red from exhaustion, the small wrinkles on her forehead, her frowned eyebrows, her lips. A doe.

She was beautiful, she was overwhelmingly beautiful. She was tired, she looked like she was about to fall asleep standing up, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop looking at her. Admiring her features, drawn close to her. He would have stayed like that for hours, was there a universe in which he got to look at her like she was his? Was there a different life in which he could stare into her eyes without worrying about death, and war and pain?

He sighed.

He reached behind his ear and took off his mask with a swift motion. He put it in his back pocket. A leap of faith into the abyss. She had never seen him so close, without his mask. She moved her hand towards his. He inspected her fingers and the cuticles she had been scratching and the skin she had ripped off. Bloody fingers and pretty manicured black nails. He began with her pointer finger, gently applied the bandaid pressing it down. He used both hands to put on another, on her middle finger, pressing it firmly, but careful not to hurt her. She wasn’t watching his work on her fingers anymore, her eyes never left his face.

He had freckles, she noticed. He had a small mole under his right eyebrow. Blond, white blonde eyelashes. The scar on his lip was the biggest on his face but she noticed another one on his chin. She could tell he regularly shaved, he must have had acne as a child, some scarring along his jawline. She relaxed, with her right hand between his. He was sweet, taking care of her. So out of character, putting a plaster on each one of her fingers. Her eyelids heavy, he was focused on her right pinky finger when he noticed her starting to loose balance. She blinked to make the drowsiness of sleep depravation go away. But she felt so good, and he was caressing her hand, he was warm and she felt… safe almost, cause he was there and no one could hurt her, cause he would protect her, no?

He was done bandaging her right hand. He opened his palm to take care of the left. She took a step closer and he didn’t seem to resist. Her feet, in her socks, were in between his boots, she delicately let her head fall towards his chest. She raised her left hand, shaking slightly. The left was definitely worse. She was right handed, did more damage with her dominant hand.

He wasn’t bothered by her resting her head on him. Affection, that gesture meant affection and trust. He didn’t expect it. But he did envision it before. He had dreams about it. He opened his arms to welcome her closer, she timidly pressed herself to him. The picture of her as a teenager in Italy came to his mind for a split second. The terrorist. Their first target, the mob child. The liar, Alba, Jude all the things she said…

He was indulging in her, even knowing what she did, he was… He decided he was going to think about that later.

He felt her breathe out and relax her shoulders. He tried to remain still and control his breathing to not bother her. She could rest, and sleep. However long she wanted.

He looked in the mirror again. She was clinging to his waist to stay upright but her face was the expression of pure exhaustion and peace. What do you see in me? How are you so peaceful and gracious and kind towards someone like me? How are you resting your head on my chest and not worry about who I am and what I have done? I have hundreds of people's blood on my hands and you're letting me in, letting me touch you. Aren’t you scared?

I’m painting your soul with the blood of people who died before me.

He circled her shoulders with his arm, taking her left hand in his hands. She let him touch her and closed her eyes. Affectionate. He could be gentle, he could feel. That was proof, she was proof he could have and feel nice things after all. He was handling her like a small flower, a small daisy. Careful not to rip her petals. And she was taking it, face pressed to his chest like she was about to get the best sleep of her life. Like in all those messy days, she was finally at peace. With him, that is.

Poor thing. Tired, uh? I knew it. I could see it. Take what you need.

He embraced her and by pushing a light pressure on her shoulders, she relaxed against him, nearly going limp. He did it with such ease he surprised himself. He resumed his task of bandaging each of her fingers. He tried to get every scratch and bloody skin under the soft surface of the plaster, rapping them tightly on her fingers. Still, he had questions.

‘So… your ex?’

Her eyes opened slightly at the question.

‘My mom made me date him so we could have some intel about his family.’

‘And his brother shot yours.’

‘He did.’ She mumbled. Her eyes closed.

‘I'm sorry.’ A final small squeeze to her pinky. He released her hand.

‘You didn't do it, he did.’

‘I know… You don’t have to worry about Price, by the way…he wouldn’t put you in danger.’

He felt her hands reach up, he saw her move from the mirror. She timidly reached for the hem of his hoodie and for a second he thought she was trying to touch him under it. She fisted the fabric and pulled him closer, so his hips, his whole middle section pressed against her.

He felt his jeans uncomfortable. He felt her chest and ribcage press against his stomach, fitting like a puzzle piece. She took a step, her feet in between his, her thighs brushed against his.

Her hands reached his back and rested on his lumbar muscles, still buried in the hoodie. His breath hitched and he knew she could feel his heartbeat against her cheek. She could smell his nervousness.

He timidly let his palms spread on her shoulder blades, rubbing his thumbs in circles. Is this how you’re supposed to do it?

She closer her eyes again, the wrinkles on her forehead smoothing out. He took in a breath and allowed his arms to envelop her figure, dropping down to her waist. I should have come here sooner if this was all you needed. Or are you playing with me again? Do you secretly have a knife in your hands now, Eva?

He leaned down and explored her lower back with his hands. He felt her ribs, his grip tightening slightly around her. His face got close to her hair, to her neck and he let his cheek rest on her scalp.

He let his intrusive thoughts go, just for a second he believed this was true. Slowly, the world began to feel calm again. The fog had been lifted. He acted like he was normal. He did it so smoothly, like he had known her forever. Her touch wasn’t foreign to him, her touch wasn’t uncomfortable. It wasn’t pretentious and demanding. She wasn’t violent, a stab, a punch. And he was delicate, and he wasn’t hurting her or damaging her or contaminating her with blood and mud and dirt. Everything was fine, in a bubble of warmth. Silent, the only sound their breathing. Like time was frozen and everyone was stopped in time outside, cars in the street and people walking, frozen in place. And tomorrow would never come and they would stay like that as long as they wanted.

‘Eva’, he whispered her name like a secret that was just for them. He felt her hands raising up and travel to his midsection, on his back. Taking her time feeling his muscles under the hoodie. He raised his head from hers to look down at her, still peacefully half asleep, still pressed to his chest, even lower, between his ribs to be precise. She didn’t have shoes on. He moved his hand to her hair, letting it slide down the blonde locks. He repeated the motion again, this time his fingers felt some knots at the back of her head. He took his time, with both hands, to untangle her hair. It was damp, she must’ve accidentally wet them in the shower. Careful not to pull it, he gently brushed the curls between his fingers. She let out a satisfied sigh against him, his mind travelled.

He envisioned her in his bed, not here, in Manchester. Or better, on vacation in the Maldives or in a Ski resort or in Thailand. In a nice, big fluffy bed with silky pillows and soft sheets. He saw himself laying down tangled in the sheets, a light breeze coming from the window. A view on the ocean, or the forest. She was resting on him like she was doing there. Asleep, beautiful. Tired but happy. Her face pressed in the crook of his neck, her breath fanning hot against his jaw. The weights of her body on his, her foot gently rubbing against his calf. His hands on her back, he saw himself tracing each line of her tattoos with his nails, her humming with delight. He saw himself playing with her hair and brushing it, salty from swimming in the ocean.

‘Eva’, he mumbled again.

‘Mmh…’

This is how it should always be, Eva. In the toilet, in the kitchen after making dinner, on the sofa, this.

I should come here every night.

‘You could have told me’, he whispered.

���No…’ she protested, but didn’t let him go. He even thought her grip tightened right that second.

‘Yes. I wanted to know.’ He spoke with no resentment in his heart.

‘I don't know what to do…’ she mumbled, his hand found her hair again, for comfort.

‘I want to know, kay? You’ll tell me?’ Sweet like honey, his words. This was what he wanted, to be seen by her, be heard, be special to her. And be good for her, be good and kind, protecting her and comforting her. He wanted her to see how good he was and how good he made her feel.

‘You’ll tell me?’

She raised her head from his chest, eyes barely opened. He almost smiled.

‘Alright.’

notes: one of the favourite chapters I think ihih, do you agree??? I'm sorry for the lack of intimacy, it's gonna take a looooong ass time and I want it like that. They're gonna realise they want each other but one of them is traumatised (even if incredibly horny) and the other is going through some difficult family stuff (and horny). so we’ll see.

love, mare.

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

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[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 8

simon riley x oc

'In another life, you don't know who I am. That's why you want me.'

She ran home and she wanted to throw herself off a bridge. It was all so… too much. She felt like laughing out loud, she giggled by herself in the car, it was absurd, come on! What in the hell? What was happening, was it real? Hey mom, guess what, your traitor daughter is coming back home after 7 years and she demands you get her back in your arms and in your business. Be happy and don’t shoot her!

And her ex, her ex boyfriend, her secret - not so secret -relationship from 10 years ago, again? What? Befriend him, fuck him like a whore? What?

It was her fault too for thinking she could have a new life, for believing things were going to be different and for sending that fucking message to Maria Adele, God what was she thinking? Everything, everything was too much, the interrogations, her family, the deal, Simon, ballet, her fucking patients and all the meetings she had to cancel, Snow Queen, all of it fuck, fuck, fuck.

How in the fucking world did she end up in that situation?

She opened the door to her apartment and Jinx greeted her. Poor neglected baby, poor baby, she pat his head and responded to his excitement by bending down to kiss him. Salvo was at her house. She said hi to him, he was cooking. He was taking care of the dog while she was away.

Salvo asked how it went, and she didn’t reply. She said she wasn’t really hungry, he scoffed and responded he didn’t care, she was gonna eat. She looked up from kissing her dog and she saw a strange, circle spec of light in the corner of her eye. A small aura of light.

She blinked, it didn’t go away.

A migraine. An incoming migraine.

She should have seen it coming.

She raised herself, legs heavy and she tied up her hair in a bun. She announced she was gonna have a shower and that he could eat if he was hungry. To which he asked what had happened, since she was so grumpy. She spoke Italian, something along the lines of ‘they’re insane, they don’t know what they’re asking, I don’t want to hear about it nor be involved.’

Thankfully, Salvo didn’t reply.

The steam made her feel dizzy, the hot, boiling hot water cut her skin and lulled her in a trance. She decided it was time to get out of that soft bubble when she heard Jinx scratching the door and whining for her. She rinsed off the body wash and got out, putting on a robe. She went out to the kitchen to discover a bowl of rice, salmon and greens on the counter. Salvo was putting on his shoes.

'So, you're being arrested, or…'

She sighed, sat on one of the stools. 'No…', she spoke with her mouth full, the fishy smell of the dish made her nearly throw up, 'I don't know, I guess I could say-'

She was cut off by a knock on the door. Nobody was ever at her door.

‘How do you know when you’re ready for her?’

Price raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t expect the question. As if he wasn’t dying to have that conversation with him, he had been waiting for this for months.

‘I’m not sure I know what you mean...’

‘Fuck off’.

He scoffed, and shook his head. Simon was young. He wasn’t really, Price was only 9 years older than him. He always thought it was his trauma, making him kinda… unsuited for normal life. Unsuited for casual situations, for anything that wasn’t rough and tough and hard to manage. He only knew how to solve complicated problems, to manage accidents. Fighting his way out.

He wasn’t used to simple things, he over exaggerated things, he complicated them. Not in the field, that is. In normal life, he wasn’t used to things being nice and simple and just straight forward. Like him and Eva, they were so simple. As the captain saw them, that is. It was pretty simple to him.

They once had a fight about uniforms. Simon didn’t like the colour of the trousers, he refused to wear them. They had fights about missions, a lot. Simon never questioned him, he just had opinions and he was incredibly vocal and proud to let the captain know what he thought. They fought about leave days, the holiday Simon didn’t want to take. One time they had a convention to attend to, a million years ago, Simon really didn’t want to go and blamed it on the menu. Argued for days. Said he didn’t like scallops. The new additions to the team, Simon never liked new faces. He had a lot to say about potential candidates.

This was the same. The captain wasn’t blind, his lieutenant was stubborn. And childish at times...

‘How do you know when you can… you know… trust.’

He took a long drag of his cigar. He didn’t want to sound like he was underplaying his feelings. They had never ever had that conversation about anyone else.

‘I believe you already know’, he said. ‘You wouldn’t be asking me these questions if you didn’t already know you can trust her. And that you’re ready.’ Simple.

Simon’s heart skipped a beat at the thought. So he was ready, indeed. So he didn’t have to wait, he didn’t need to wait and see and let her prove herself more. He could just… he was ready if he wanted to… I don’t know, be with her? Why did that sound so absurd? Wasn't there a test of some sort? Didn't he need to wait a bit more maybe, he felt like he hardly knew the girl. She was imprinted in his mind every second of every day, yet he felt so distant.

‘Do you think she would... lie again?’

Price raised his eyebrows. Wasn’t easy to say, but still he didn’t want to discourage him. He had been worried a little for him, cause he saw how much he liked her and how disappointed he got when they found out… you know. But still, that didn’t change what they might have had before that, or that she could change in the future. And anyways, no matter how much Simon tried, he hardly resisted from getting close to her, being in her space, and didn’t complain when she was the one to look for him. So, who was he kidding. He was indulging in her more and more as time went by. And Price knew and everyone knew it was a dance, a discreet yet perfect dance in which they looked for each other, found each other's eyes, they seemed close in each room they were in even if Eva was by the door and Simon sitting at the table. They disappeared sometimes and God knows where they went, even just metaphorically speaking. All it took was a glance, a nod of the head and they knew. They communicated, they saw each other.

‘You know her better than me by now.’ The captain responded. ‘I think she wants you by her side.’

Simon was glad the conversation ended on a positive note. The captain wasn’t done.

‘And by the way, getting played is also part of the game.’ He said. ‘Accept the risks if you really want her.’

‘Enough.’

He heard the captain laugh when he left the room.

Nobody was ever at her door. Her eyes shot up, Salvo immediately froze and gave her a sign not to move. She placed the fork on the plate, trying to do so quietly. When Salvo peeked through the peephole, however, his shoulders relaxed slightly. She waited for what felt like an eternity for him to look at her, with eyes wide and brows furrowed.

'What?' She asked.

He shook his head, 'It's him.'

She knew how he was talking about, no need to specify. Blood rushed to her ears, her heart jumped. She instinctively pulled at her robe, Jinx was going mad sniffing the door and stomping his paws. Even the damn dog was excited.

He showed up at her house. Uninvited, not for duty she guessed.

He had called for her a few days back, you can't keep me from her, he had said to Salvo. There he was, again.

'Apri', she just said. She walked to her room to put some clothes on.

'Are you insane?'

She gave him a look before closing the door and he knew what the look meant. Don't question me, that was the meaning. You heard me the first time. If this was going to be a catastrophe, Salvo didn't want to be involved. She wanted that monster inside her apartment, she was feeling pitiful, good for her. He was probably furious at her for lying and leading him on or some shit and wanted to pick a fight, but showing up at her house at night? Another level of creepy.

He did open the door, proudly. He stood in the middle of Eva's small living room and didn't leave him room to get inside. Don't get me wrong, Salvo wasn't worried Simon could take his place, Eva and him had a strong friendship. And he wasn't worried she would be hurt by the things he might have had to say, she was a strong woman and she loved to argue. But still...

Jinx was all over him like they had been friends for a lifetime. Wagging his tail and turning and turning in circles to get pets. Ghost, Salvo had never in a million years would have thought to encounter him in such a circumstance, barely acknowledged him. Well, he did cause he looked at him, he was wearing a mask and a baseball cap. He soon forgot about Salvo, concentrating on the dog who was drooling on his boots. Salvo got a closer look. Some of the lieutenant's blonde hair were sticking out the cap. He wore casual attire, he was very pale. He had clearly pet Jinx before. He must have followed Eva soon after she left the interrogation. 'Followed', he knew where she lived. He had been invited to that house. What did she see in him anyways, the hulking figure perhaps, the physique, cause his personality sure wasn't appealing, and she wasn't one to seek out problematic men anyways…

'Gonna move?' Ghost asked.

Salvo seemed to regain consciousness, and moved slightly to let him in.

Was it infuriating to see him and not Eva answering the door? Yes. What was he doing there, was he gonna spend the night, did he move in? Was he about to leave, he had sneakers on. Where was she, what took so long to open the door, what was she doing? The house smelled like food, though she had just came from the interrogation, so Salvo had probably cooked. He scanned the room. Blanket on the sofa, bowl on the counter, the fork was dirty. There were books, pens and a few mugs on the coffee table. The bathroom door was opened, the mirror foggy. The thought of her showering seconds prior to his arrival made him nervous. She was changing, in her room. That's where she was. Was she going out, or just to bed? Was he bothering her when she wanted to sleep?Jinx's bowl was empty, he could feed him, did he need to go on a walk? When was Salvo gonna leave? Speaking of…

'What do you need?', Simon heard him say from behind his shoulder.

He nearly knocked him out there and then. So that he could finally be alone with her. Fucking idiot, always lingering around…

'Weren't you about to leave?' He turned around and gestures at his shoes.

Salvo seemed offended. His brown curly hair were slick back, he was so different from Simon. His skin was glistening and tan, he looked peaceful, he looked comfortable and secure and relaxed. Simon envied the way he stood tall and calm. Young, smart and funny too. And protective of his friend, she didn't need protection. He looked smug about it too, both of the men knew Eva's favourite (at the moment) was definitely Salvo. He knew his way around that apartment, he was guarding the door.

He knew his way around Eva and her heart.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘You’re not addressing me like that Sargent, you-‘

Salvo did something nobody ever did, he interrupted him. And he turned around to face him, Simon fully turned around. He was brave, the boy. Or stupid.

'We're not doing that here, come on.' He said, smiling. 'You're not here for work.'

Simon felt exposed. Like his little secret was out. Did Eva tell you anything, did she tell you, what, that we went out, that I was here for dinner, that I asked her out? How much do you know? He felt vulnerable and he hated it. You're not here for work, no… He was there for himself, it was true. This new part of his life, this new secret he kept from everyone, hell, even from himself, Salvo could see past it somehow.

'That's none of your business', Ghost asserted.

'It is, I'm her friend.'

'I don't care.'

'But it's the truth.'

'Listen, that's enough, I-'

'What's going on?'

The voice of an angel. Hers. Simon's head shot left, he didn't hear the door open. Maybe she had been there the whole time, she was a ghost, a mirage and a presence in the back of his mind. She had a simple white t-shirt on, she had no bra. She wore sweatpants, grey. It was absurd how she would make even a t-shirt look elegant and classy. She looked like a dove, like a flower gently resting in a pond. Like spring. She had her bathrobe in hand, she wore fuzzy socks. She looked calm, yet cautious. Did he think she was gonna be happy to see him, fool. But she didn't look mad, either. He felt like he didn't belong there, but neither did Salvo. Simon's nostrils were filled with her scent, as she slowly moved behind the kitchen counter, a wall physical and psychological between them. She smelled like coconut, something floral, fresh. He got kinda used to analysing her features when she wasn't wearing makeup, her eyes looked tired, the skin around her nose red. She was pale, all colour from her cheeks drained upon seeing him. He realised he really didn't know how to justify his presence at her house, not without endangering himself by revealing some kind of hidden feeling for her.

Anger, longing, lust, fear and despair. All of those.

'I wanted to talk'. He said.

She didn't flinch, didn't smile. She wasn't impressed.

'Alright', she just said. Small, compliant, hurt. Did I make you feel this bad, he asked himself.

Salvo spoke from behind Simon's shoulder, in Italian so only she could understand. What a dick. 'Sei sicura?'

'Penso di si, dovremmo…'

'Non ti sentire forzata.'

'No, non è quello…'

'In English, maybe?'

Eva didn't really care for either of the men in front of her (a lie, but still). She wanted silence more than anything and you could tell by the way she spoke. A calmness that wasn't usual for her. Her voice small and sweet, from her parted lips came small exhales of air. She felt tightness in her chest and trouble breathing. Anxiety. Maybe cause Simon was there. There was no questioning his feelings anymore and he was a fool if he thought she didn't notice. He was mad and yet here he was. Came back to her with his tail between his legs. To talk, he said, about them probably, about the date. There was no questioning there was something there, something lingering in the air between them. Yet, they had never been more far away.

She surely wasn't in the position to judge him. She wanted this. She wanted him to come to her, she wanted to tell him everything. If it meant having him close to her again then yes, she would tell him. Even just for tonight, just once. Then he would leave, disgusted by her. At least he would be with her for a few hours.

She missed him. She wanted him.

'Vai Salvo, non ti preoccupare', she said and went to the bathroom to hang the robe. She told Salvo to go and not worry about her. She was happy he did worry, but she could defend herself from Simon's insults. Or she guessed he would insult her, she didn't know. She watched Salvo tie his shoes, reluctantly put on his jacket. He gave Simon a look, a look men give each other when they want to be intimidating. She rolled her eyes and Simon didn't seem to notice him anyways. He was looking at her, waiting patiently for her friend to get out of the apartment. He wanted a moment alone with her, he wanted privacy.

She thought, in another life we're sitting on the couch. This is our house, Jinx is our dog. I don't know what you do, you think my family is dead. I eat my dinner without crying, you don't wear the mask, you're not scared. Salvo likes you cause you're friends, he doesn't need to spend the night to shake me awake from nightmares cause you do it, Simon. Only you, Simon. You do it, it's you and me.

In another life, you don't know who I am, that's why you want me.

Just not this life.

notes: I'm alive and I lied! nothing happens in this chapter I just love to yap ehe. fluff in the next chapter, no kiss, but still they're being sweet and all. and after this hopefully they're gonna be more affectionate. does it make sense, what I'm doing?

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

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[mar3ggiata]

I don't know if you know but I wrote two fics, simon riley x oc.

I just thought I'd mention it, 'kay?

Read professional help as part one, though, otherwise it won't make sense. then you can read TNOTT

love you, byeee

-mare

mare - she/her - 24

this blog is 18+ NSFW and contains adult content, if that’s not your cup of tea pls do not drink.

my inbox is open xx ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

WORKS:

professional help - simon riley x oc (34 chapters) enemies to lovers, slow burn, oc is a cis woman, ballerina/therapist, references to italian culture.

the night of the tarantula - sequel to professional help (ongoing)

ao3

tw: violence, sexual assault, mentions of rape, mentions of death, trauma, sexual themes, swearing, use of alcohol and drugs, mafia - type organisations, eating disorders, depression, heavy mentions of gruesome death, abortions.

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 8

simon riley x oc

'In another life, you don't know who I am. That's why you want me.'

She ran home and she wanted to throw herself off a bridge. It was all so… too much. She felt like laughing out loud, she giggled by herself in the car, it was absurd, come on! What in the hell? What was happening, was it real? Hey mom, guess what, your traitor daughter is coming back home after 7 years and she demands you get her back in your arms and in your business. Be happy and don’t shoot her!

And her ex, her ex boyfriend, her secret - not so secret -relationship from 10 years ago, again? What? Befriend him, fuck him like a whore? What?

It was her fault too for thinking she could have a new life, for believing things were going to be different and for sending that fucking message to Maria Adele, God what was she thinking? Everything, everything was too much, the interrogations, her family, the deal, Simon, ballet, her fucking patients and all the meetings she had to cancel, Snow Queen, all of it fuck, fuck, fuck.

How in the fucking world did she end up in that situation?

She opened the door to her apartment and Jinx greeted her. Poor neglected baby, poor baby, she pat his head and responded to his excitement by bending down to kiss him. Salvo was at her house. She said hi to him, he was cooking. He was taking care of the dog while she was away.

Salvo asked how it went, and she didn’t reply. She said she wasn’t really hungry, he scoffed and responded he didn’t care, she was gonna eat. She looked up from kissing her dog and she saw a strange, circle spec of light in the corner of her eye. A small aura of light.

She blinked, it didn’t go away.

A migraine. An incoming migraine.

She should have seen it coming.

She raised herself, legs heavy and she tied up her hair in a bun. She announced she was gonna have a shower and that he could eat if he was hungry. To which he asked what had happened, since she was so grumpy. She spoke Italian, something along the lines of ‘they’re insane, they don’t know what they’re asking, I don’t want to hear about it nor be involved.’

Thankfully, Salvo didn’t reply.

The steam made her feel dizzy, the hot, boiling hot water cut her skin and lulled her in a trance. She decided it was time to get out of that soft bubble when she heard Jinx scratching the door and whining for her. She rinsed off the body wash and got out, putting on a robe. She went out to the kitchen to discover a bowl of rice, salmon and greens on the counter. Salvo was putting on his shoes.

'So, you're being arrested, or…'

She sighed, sat on one of the stools. 'No…', she spoke with her mouth full, the fishy smell of the dish made her nearly throw up, 'I don't know, I guess I could say-'

She was cut off by a knock on the door. Nobody was ever at her door.

‘How do you know when you’re ready for her?’

Price raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t expect the question. As if he wasn’t dying to have that conversation with him, he had been waiting for this for months.

‘I’m not sure I know what you mean...’

‘Fuck off’.

He scoffed, and shook his head. Simon was young. He wasn’t really, Price was only 9 years older than him. He always thought it was his trauma, making him kinda… unsuited for normal life. Unsuited for casual situations, for anything that wasn’t rough and tough and hard to manage. He only knew how to solve complicated problems, to manage accidents. Fighting his way out.

He wasn’t used to simple things, he over exaggerated things, he complicated them. Not in the field, that is. In normal life, he wasn’t used to things being nice and simple and just straight forward. Like him and Eva, they were so simple. As the captain saw them, that is. It was pretty simple to him.

They once had a fight about uniforms. Simon didn’t like the colour of the trousers, he refused to wear them. They had fights about missions, a lot. Simon never questioned him, he just had opinions and he was incredibly vocal and proud to let the captain know what he thought. They fought about leave days, the holiday Simon didn’t want to take. One time they had a convention to attend to, a million years ago, Simon really didn’t want to go and blamed it on the menu. Argued for days. Said he didn’t like scallops. The new additions to the team, Simon never liked new faces. He had a lot to say about potential candidates.

This was the same. The captain wasn’t blind, his lieutenant was stubborn. And childish at times...

‘How do you know when you can… you know… trust.’

He took a long drag of his cigar. He didn’t want to sound like he was underplaying his feelings. They had never ever had that conversation about anyone else.

‘I believe you already know’, he said. ‘You wouldn’t be asking me these questions if you didn’t already know you can trust her. And that you’re ready.’ Simple.

Simon’s heart skipped a beat at the thought. So he was ready, indeed. So he didn’t have to wait, he didn’t need to wait and see and let her prove herself more. He could just… he was ready if he wanted to… I don’t know, be with her? Why did that sound so absurd? Wasn't there a test of some sort? Didn't he need to wait a bit more maybe, he felt like he hardly knew the girl. She was imprinted in his mind every second of every day, yet he felt so distant.

‘Do you think she would... lie again?’

Price raised his eyebrows. Wasn’t easy to say, but still he didn’t want to discourage him. He had been worried a little for him, cause he saw how much he liked her and how disappointed he got when they found out… you know. But still, that didn’t change what they might have had before that, or that she could change in the future. And anyways, no matter how much Simon tried, he hardly resisted from getting close to her, being in her space, and didn’t complain when she was the one to look for him. So, who was he kidding. He was indulging in her more and more as time went by. And Price knew and everyone knew it was a dance, a discreet yet perfect dance in which they looked for each other, found each other's eyes, they seemed close in each room they were in even if Eva was by the door and Simon sitting at the table. They disappeared sometimes and God knows where they went, even just metaphorically speaking. All it took was a glance, a nod of the head and they knew. They communicated, they saw each other.

‘You know her better than me by now.’ The captain responded. ‘I think she wants you by her side.’

Simon was glad the conversation ended on a positive note. The captain wasn’t done.

‘And by the way, getting played is also part of the game.’ He said. ‘Accept the risks if you really want her.’

‘Enough.’

He heard the captain laugh when he left the room.

Nobody was ever at her door. Her eyes shot up, Salvo immediately froze and gave her a sign not to move. She placed the fork on the plate, trying to do so quietly. When Salvo peeked through the peephole, however, his shoulders relaxed slightly. She waited for what felt like an eternity for him to look at her, with eyes wide and brows furrowed.

'What?' She asked.

He shook his head, 'It's him.'

She knew how he was talking about, no need to specify. Blood rushed to her ears, her heart jumped. She instinctively pulled at her robe, Jinx was going mad sniffing the door and stomping his paws. Even the damn dog was excited.

He showed up at her house. Uninvited, not for duty she guessed.

He had called for her a few days back, you can't keep me from her, he had said to Salvo. There he was, again.

'Apri', she just said. She walked to her room to put some clothes on.

'Are you insane?'

She gave him a look before closing the door and he knew what the look meant. Don't question me, that was the meaning. You heard me the first time. If this was going to be a catastrophe, Salvo didn't want to be involved. She wanted that monster inside her apartment, she was feeling pitiful, good for her. He was probably furious at her for lying and leading him on or some shit and wanted to pick a fight, but showing up at her house at night? Another level of creepy.

He did open the door, proudly. He stood in the middle of Eva's small living room and didn't leave him room to get inside. Don't get me wrong, Salvo wasn't worried Simon could take his place, Eva and him had a strong friendship. And he wasn't worried she would be hurt by the things he might have had to say, she was a strong woman and she loved to argue. But still...

Jinx was all over him like they had been friends for a lifetime. Wagging his tail and turning and turning in circles to get pets. Ghost, Salvo had never in a million years would have thought to encounter him in such a circumstance, barely acknowledged him. Well, he did cause he looked at him, he was wearing a mask and a baseball cap. He soon forgot about Salvo, concentrating on the dog who was drooling on his boots. Salvo got a closer look. Some of the lieutenant's blonde hair were sticking out the cap. He wore casual attire, he was very pale. He had clearly pet Jinx before. He must have followed Eva soon after she left the interrogation. 'Followed', he knew where she lived. He had been invited to that house. What did she see in him anyways, the hulking figure perhaps, the physique, cause his personality sure wasn't appealing, and she wasn't one to seek out problematic men anyways…

'Gonna move?' Ghost asked.

Salvo seemed to regain consciousness, and moved slightly to let him in.

Was it infuriating to see him and not Eva answering the door? Yes. What was he doing there, was he gonna spend the night, did he move in? Was he about to leave, he had sneakers on. Where was she, what took so long to open the door, what was she doing? The house smelled like food, though she had just came from the interrogation, so Salvo had probably cooked. He scanned the room. Blanket on the sofa, bowl on the counter, the fork was dirty. There were books, pens and a few mugs on the coffee table. The bathroom door was opened, the mirror foggy. The thought of her showering seconds prior to his arrival made him nervous. She was changing, in her room. That's where she was. Was she going out, or just to bed? Was he bothering her when she wanted to sleep?Jinx's bowl was empty, he could feed him, did he need to go on a walk? When was Salvo gonna leave? Speaking of…

'What do you need?', Simon heard him say from behind his shoulder.

He nearly knocked him out there and then. So that he could finally be alone with her. Fucking idiot, always lingering around…

'Weren't you about to leave?' He turned around and gestures at his shoes.

Salvo seemed offended. His brown curly hair were slick back, he was so different from Simon. His skin was glistening and tan, he looked peaceful, he looked comfortable and secure and relaxed. Simon envied the way he stood tall and calm. Young, smart and funny too. And protective of his friend, she didn't need protection. He looked smug about it too, both of the men knew Eva's favourite (at the moment) was definitely Salvo. He knew his way around that apartment, he was guarding the door.

He knew his way around Eva and her heart.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘You’re not addressing me like that Sargent, you-‘

Salvo did something nobody ever did, he interrupted him. And he turned around to face him, Simon fully turned around. He was brave, the boy. Or stupid.

'We're not doing that here, come on.' He said, smiling. 'You're not here for work.'

Simon felt exposed. Like his little secret was out. Did Eva tell you anything, did she tell you, what, that we went out, that I was here for dinner, that I asked her out? How much do you know? He felt vulnerable and he hated it. You're not here for work, no… He was there for himself, it was true. This new part of his life, this new secret he kept from everyone, hell, even from himself, Salvo could see past it somehow.

'That's none of your business', Ghost asserted.

'It is, I'm her friend.'

'I don't care.'

'But it's the truth.'

'Listen, that's enough, I-'

'What's going on?'

The voice of an angel. Hers. Simon's head shot left, he didn't hear the door open. Maybe she had been there the whole time, she was a ghost, a mirage and a presence in the back of his mind. She had a simple white t-shirt on, she had no bra. She wore sweatpants, grey. It was absurd how she would make even a t-shirt look elegant and classy. She looked like a dove, like a flower gently resting in a pond. Like spring. She had her bathrobe in hand, she wore fuzzy socks. She looked calm, yet cautious. Did he think she was gonna be happy to see him, fool. But she didn't look mad, either. He felt like he didn't belong there, but neither did Salvo. Simon's nostrils were filled with her scent, as she slowly moved behind the kitchen counter, a wall physical and psychological between them. She smelled like coconut, something floral, fresh. He got kinda used to analysing her features when she wasn't wearing makeup, her eyes looked tired, the skin around her nose red. She was pale, all colour from her cheeks drained upon seeing him. He realised he really didn't know how to justify his presence at her house, not without endangering himself by revealing some kind of hidden feeling for her.

Anger, longing, lust, fear and despair. All of those.

'I wanted to talk'. He said.

She didn't flinch, didn't smile. She wasn't impressed.

'Alright', she just said. Small, compliant, hurt. Did I make you feel this bad, he asked himself.

Salvo spoke from behind Simon's shoulder, in Italian so only she could understand. What a dick. 'Sei sicura?'

'Penso di si, dovremmo…'

'Non ti sentire forzata.'

'No, non è quello…'

'In English, maybe?'

Eva didn't really care for either of the men in front of her (a lie, but still). She wanted silence more than anything and you could tell by the way she spoke. A calmness that wasn't usual for her. Her voice small and sweet, from her parted lips came small exhales of air. She felt tightness in her chest and trouble breathing. Anxiety. Maybe cause Simon was there. There was no questioning his feelings anymore and he was a fool if he thought she didn't notice. He was mad and yet here he was. Came back to her with his tail between his legs. To talk, he said, about them probably, about the date. There was no questioning there was something there, something lingering in the air between them. Yet, they had never been more far away.

She surely wasn't in the position to judge him. She wanted this. She wanted him to come to her, she wanted to tell him everything. If it meant having him close to her again then yes, she would tell him. Even just for tonight, just once. Then he would leave, disgusted by her. At least he would be with her for a few hours.

She missed him. She wanted him.

'Vai Salvo, non ti preoccupare', she said and went to the bathroom to hang the robe. She told Salvo to go and not worry about her. She was happy he did worry, but she could defend herself from Simon's insults. Or she guessed he would insult her, she didn't know. She watched Salvo tie his shoes, reluctantly put on his jacket. He gave Simon a look, a look men give each other when they want to be intimidating. She rolled her eyes and Simon didn't seem to notice him anyways. He was looking at her, waiting patiently for her friend to get out of the apartment. He wanted a moment alone with her, he wanted privacy.

She thought, in another life we're sitting on the couch. This is our house, Jinx is our dog. I don't know what you do, you think my family is dead. I eat my dinner without crying, you don't wear the mask, you're not scared. Salvo likes you cause you're friends, he doesn't need to spend the night to shake me awake from nightmares cause you do it, Simon. Only you, Simon. You do it, it's you and me.

In another life, you don't know who I am, that's why you want me.

Just not this life.

notes: I'm alive and I lied! nothing happens in this chapter I just love to yap ehe. fluff in the next chapter, no kiss, but still they're being sweet and all. and after this hopefully they're gonna be more affectionate. does it make sense, what I'm doing?

taglist:

@random-fandom-smoothie @lucienofthelakes

@ghostlythots @sweetfemmefatal @natxpat @chavarriakeren647 @ravenmoore14 @farther-than-pleiades @internallyscreamings @hwromi @atoxicrat @cuti3maddi3 @deafeningkittenblaze @its-celeste @serene-hills @lexidoll12 @poohkie90 @lunatiquess

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@rkrivees-blog @ghosts-hoe @kam1snotverysmart @gauky76 @freyjaaasstuff @spicyspicyliving @scottpilgrimvsmyfists @courtney0-0 @shinchanboi @darling006 @my-therapist-hates-me @asteriadisera @sigynxlokiwifelover

[mar3ggiata]

im writing, Simon and Eva. ok?? i’m writing.

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula 8 - preview

She opened the door to her apartment and Jinx greeted her. Poor neglected baby, her poor baby, she pat his head and responded to his excitement by bending down to kiss him. Salvo was at her house. She said hi to him, he was cooking. He was taking care of the dog while she was away.

Salvo asked how it went, and she didn’t reply. She said she wasn’t really hungry, he scoffed and responded he didn’t care, she was gonna eat. She looked up from kissing her dog and she saw a strange, circle spec of light in the corner of her eye. A small aura of light. She blinked, it didn’t go away. A migraine. An incoming migraine.

She was cut off by a knock on the door.

Nobody was ever at her door. Her eyes shot up, Salvo immediately froze and gave her a sign not to move. Under attack, both of them. She placed the fork on the plate, trying to do so quietly. She had thoughts, to escape by the window in her bedroom, how was Jinx gonna fit, what would she do with the house, she could use a knife to defend herself, what was going on?

When Salvo peeked through the peephole, however, his shoulders relaxed slightly. She waited for what felt like an eternity for him to look at her, with eyes wide and brows furrowed. Shocked, confused but still, he kinda expected it.

'What?' She asked.

He shook his head, 'It's him.'

notes: something so sweet is gonna happen in chapter 8 (no kiss don't get ideas)

[mar3ggiata]

hanya and simon once more - this time is sentimental things

she’s not good with words.

well…

she is a lawyer, she is good with words, she’s incredibly well spoken and knowledgeable and educated. to her kids, she teaches them to speak well, to use the right words, to learn. she’s gentle, she’s a gentle and yet assertive parent.

with simon, she keeps it to a minimal of asking him if he’s feeling okay. maybe a ‘where have you put that container’ or ‘can you feed the cows tonight’. simple.

he’s surprisingly the one who initiates conversations, especially at night. she lays down on her side and he lays on his back. he asks about her work, the animals, how she’s feeling. she replies with short sentences and then it’s silence again.

until one day, she asks a question back. and then another. and they talk, for a few minutes. there, in bed, in the dark.

he starts to notice things. the way she fills his plate before hers. the way she cooks that beef and broccoli dish twice a week cause he said he liked it. when he showers, he finds his sweatpants and the shirt he sleeps in on the heater. they’re warm then he puts them on. when he wakes up in the morning, she’s already getting ready for work. they have a moka pot for coffee, he finds her empty cup in the sink, but the moka is filled with ground coffee, on the stove ready to be brewed.

he was half asleep one time and he thought she got up to go to the toilet. he didn’t think too much of it. when she came back, however, she stopped by his side of the bed and gently moved the covers on his body, tucking him in. she got up the following night, he was awake and she did it again.

not a word, never. but he starts to notice and so, he does the same. she’s so taken aback she can’t hide it. he’s still asleep, but the moka pot is already prepared for her when she wakes up. she finds her clothes on the heater, what, how? she goes to the farm after work and he’s already there. shovelling cow shit.

she’s surprised, and a little afraid. they start to sleep closer and closer once the winter comes around. not touching, just a little bit closer.

one time she gets home and goes straight to bed, taking advantage of the fact Noah was asleep and Edith was at a friends house. when he joins her in bed he asks her what’s going on, she just had a shitty day. she’s curled up on her side. he’s facing her, she’s shivering. he says they should get a new duvet for winter and she snaps at him saying she can’t do anything on her own.

he doesn’t reply. instead, he moves the covers on her shoulder to keep her warm. his hand gently touches her skin, then moves to her hair. he strokes her hair until she’s asleep.

the next night she apologises. says she appreciates he didn’t get offended. he says not to worry. asks her where all their blankets are, she says she lets the kids be warm. every winter, he asks? of course, i give the blankets to them, she replies. that leaves the adults cold, most importantly, she has been cold for years. do you wanna come closer, you’re cold?

she’s silent for a bit, then says yes. she wiggles towards him, he opens his harms to hug her. his legs tangle with hers and she scoops one arm around his waist. she’s shivering. he feels her hot breath on his neck, his lips hover over her forehead without daring to touch. he gently rubs her back and tells her she’s alright until she’s passed out. and she doesn’t let him go not even in the morning. she’s so close she feels she can hear his organs functioning, he’s scared she’s gonna unzip his skin and crawl inside him.

once you feel how warm it is, you hardly want to go back.

[mar3ggiata]

alright i’m having thoughts again about OurGirl and world war two soldier Simon, wanna hear ‘em?

I decided her name is Hanya. She graduated law school in switzerland one year before the war. She and all the lawyers in her year, all around the world, were called to form Councils, each one with a different aim. Humanitarian assistance, restarting the european bank, figuring out food and water, negotiating between countries…

All women of course.

She adopted two children as you know, cause they bombed an orphanage near zurich. Noah, 3 years old, and Edith, 14.

When Simon enters the picture, she takes care of him like a mother. She goes to work and asks the children to keep an eye on him, they look at him from behind the half closed door and he knows. He lets them stare. She comes back every day and feeds him, changes his bandages and puts cold towels on his forehead. She asks him how he’s feeling but doesn’t listen to the answer. At night, he can hear her breathing on the opposite side of the bed. Sometimes he feels her move.

When he regains the strength to get out of bed he takes a shower. She hates he’s in her space. He learns she has animals. 3 dogs, he doesn’t know how many cats, cows and sheep. It’s not quite a farm, he thinks they just made room for animals near her house where some buildings used to be. Bombed by russians. She has a garden.

She’s protective of her kids, he will come to find out they call her mom. Noah, the little one, has been with her his whole life, a bit codependent, he requires to be held a lot and she doesn’t have the strength sometimes. Edith is another story, she’s defensive, quiet and reserved. She’s not a fan of Simon.

Hanya goes to work every day. He’s not allowed to go out, too risky, the russians are looking for the english soldiers. When he asks where his weapons and uniform are she tells him she buried them in the garden. She’s smart. She hates him cause he represents war.

He stays home a lot, he reads, begins to clean, make food. Imagine her reaction when she comes home one day and discovers the animals have been fed, dinner is ready, the dogs have had their walk and the kids have been picked up from school and are already in bed. Odd.

They sit in silence at the table and she says he can sleep in the bed, it’s big enough to share. The adults toilet is en-suite in her master bedroom. The kids share their toilet and they wouldn’t want him there. He agrees. Sometimes, laying in the dark, he asks her if she’s alright.

For Noah’s birthday they watch a film together on the couch. All four. When the kids go to bed, he asks her if she wants to finish the film. They sit together.

/want more?

[mar3ggiata]

@lucienofthelakes mentioned me under this post and now i have the strength to write again 🪷

I LOVE YOU AUTHORS!!!!! YOU BEAUTIFUL WRITERS!!!!!! I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BABY GURRLLLLL!!!!! THANK YOU ALWAYS FOR THE MEALS!!!! ALSO- ALSO!!!!!! THE SMUT, THE ANGST, THE FLUFF, THE SHORT OR LONG STORIES YOU MAKE!!!!! Thank you for making me realize things I didn’t know I was into?!!!!! yall feed me so well, I love y’all’s writings collectively!!! Yall are doing such good work and I love you for it. I will always love y’all’s work even if you think it’s bad or terrible. Thank you so much pookie!! 🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘💖💖💖💖💖💖

Thanks for coming to my ted talk 🥹

[mar3ggiata]

she’s probably way more concerned about her garden than him, but she knew some of the men were coming back from war, he wasn’t the first she saw. still, he was bleeding out in her garden.

her name is Mia or Grace or maybe Hanya.

the first thing she says to him is that he’s not allowed to bleed out there. he’s not dead yet, he raises his head from the grass and pretends to take his final breath.

she forces him inside and he is truly so injured and tired he sleeps in her bed for 2 days. i’m saying the bed and not the couch cause she doesn’t want the kids to see him die if he ends up dying.

he doesn’t, she takes care of him well and explains it’s just what women do, even to men like him. who go to war and kill, who destroyed their homes, bombed hospitals and schools and ended the lives of millions of civilians. the women still chose to forgive them. they fight a lot for this, for her beliefs.

she’s the best. she handles everything around the house, the garden, the food, the clothes, everything. and she ‘raised’ her kids to be just like her, mouthy and unapologetically blunt and honest. independent and smart. well spoken kids. they are both fascinated by ghost.

they start living together cause it’s safer to play family. kid2, the 3 year old boy, is absolutely in love with the man. never leaves him alone, and ghost has no idea how to handle the situation.

sometimes some troops pass by Zurich and they have to act as if they’re a family. he feels this weird thing, like he’s concerned for the safety of Girly, and both the kids. especially the kids, he starts to almost like spending time with them, as they grow more comfortable with him.

he puts 3year old to bed sometimes, he helps 11 year old braiding her hair. she sometimes calls Girly ‘mom’. he starts calling her that too.

he stops sleeping in Girly’s bed out of respect. she invites him back after a few days and they… sleep. no contact whatsoever, they like it like that.

getting more used to his new life in this new matriarchal society, ghost learns it would be good for each one of the women to have at least a child. a deal, co parenting, nothing extreme. Girly is not really a fan of the idea but she complies for the sake of repopulating the world now that the women are finally leading.

the first time they do it is purely for the common objective. she’s shy, he’s respectful, both panicking, it’s been way too long since the last time. somehow thought, in the middle of it, they end up with the realisation that they actually.. kinda like it?

and then they wait and see, and maybe she gets pregnant right away or maybe not and they have to do it again.

who knows. (me i know.)

[mar3ggiata]

remember historical au / world war two simon riley x oc fic?

you can find the first thought here

here’s more on that

okay what happened is, society regressed into literal poverty because all resources were given by governments to fund the war.

when women took charge of the European central bank, they stopped funding for weapons and focused on rebuilding the economy, fixing the cities, hospitals, getting back to agricolture and basic services and infrastructure, saving what was left. one of the major problems was natality. with the men at war.

so, once a few of them came back, they made a deal, men and women. that they would try their best to procreate, just for the sake of society.

so, ghost survives years of battle only to find himself in Switzerland, he meets OurGirl and she takes him into her home cause every woman needs to help at least one man. not in a sexual way, they’re looking for a place to hide, quite literally. so, she helps him out, says he can stay until it’s safe for him to go back home. he doesn’t have a home anymore, they both know.

two kids live with OurGirl. they’re not her children, they’re ‘adopted’. orphans. Kid1 is a 11 year old girl, Kid2 is only 3. ghost has no choice but to adapt to his new life. and still, he lives in fear the russian are going to bang on his door (his new house door) and take him away, kill him in front of his fake wife and fake kids.

remember what i said about having children for the sake of society? yeah. yeah…

imagine, they both don’t even remember how to fuck. so cute.

//ok what do you think???

[mar3ggiata]

updated masterlist ihih

the night of the tarantula - masterlist

simon riley x oc

sequel to - professional help

no good deed ever goes unpunished - intro

all is fair in Love and War - 1

swinging by my neck from the family tree - 2

it was cruel but it was necessary - 3

you can't keep me from her - 4

deep rivers run quiet - 5

'do not put an innocent or honest person to death, for I will not acquit the guilty' - 6

I wish I had a soft bed of faith to trust fall into - 7

[mar3ggiata]

the night of the tarantula - 7

simon riley x oc

I wish I had a soft bed of faith to trust fall into 

'We’re here’.

She stopped the scooter and placed her feet on the ground. Cutting the engine, he finally was able to relax his legs stretching them so he could touch the ground. That thing wasn’t meant for someone his size. His hands still rested on her hips, where he had held her while she drove. His nose was still in her hair. He stabilised the motorcycle, as she was not gonna be able to handle his weight and the scooter’s. She got off the bike before him, he got up and basically scooped the scooter from between his legs. ‘Booster’ that was how she called the motorbike. It was a small scooter, shiny black, aggressive and angry looking scooter. She said they were everywhere in Naples, perfect means of transportation.

She had invited him to go for a ride twenty minutes before, they were in a part of Naples she didn’t really visit when she was young, so that she wouldn’t risk getting recognised or stopped. She had a spare helmet.

He came to knowing he really couldn’t say no to her.

He didn’t want to upset her further than she already was, if she had the strength to get up and ask him if he wanted to go somewhere, he simply considered himself lucky. He wanted to spend time alone with her, and seeing her somewhat happy those days was a blessing. It was rare, seeing her content. And, who was he kidding, every chance to be close to her, he would cherish.

He didn’t even question her when she got on that tiny, almost wrecked scooter and told him to get behind her. She knew the way to the best pizza shop outside of Naples.

He spent the whole journey praying the wheels would hold on, wondering if anyone had seen them two leave together. They did. Price asked where she went and Gaz cleverly noticed Simon was missing too, even if it was ten at night. No one commented further.

The air was soft and warm on his face, her hair gently caressing his cheek when the wind would blow through them. His hands were firmly placed on her waist, his feet rested where her feet were supported to go cause his legs were too long. She placed her feet, she wore sandals, on top of his boots. He felt somewhat used to touching her, it didn't feel so foreign anymore. He squeezed her enough to hold on and not lose balance, and she didn't complain. He thought, every now and then, she was relaxing and leaning into him, pressing her back further against his chest.

'We’re here’.

She stopped the scooter and placed her feet on the ground. Cutting the engine, he finally was able to relax his legs stretching them so he could touch the ground. She got off the bike before him, he got up and basically scooped the scooter from between his legs.

They had left the busy streets behind them, they were in a more rural area. They had passed a laundromat and few restaurants on the way, he didn't know which mountains there were close to, but they must have been in a valley.

She led him to the shop, there was a neon sign that read ‘pizza’ and a few tables outside. Two men were eating at the counter, chatting to the owner. He tried not to stare or look suspicious. 6'2'' fucking brit, built like a wardrobe, dressed all in black, with a pretty girl in a pizza shop at ten pm. Not suspicious.

Eva approached the counter and spoke with a neutral italian accent.

'Buonasera'.

The owner's accent was definitely thicker, he was from the area. 'Buonasera, ditemi.'

'Buonasera' meant 'good evening', he guessed. He had even started to recognise the sound of the dialect, he knew she was faking not being from there.

She asked something else, looking at the counter, he guessed she ordered something to eat. 'Posso avere una pizza fritta pomodoro e mozzarella… e…', she tilted her head in thought. He didn't even try to interfere, he stood there like an idiot beside the fridge. She was in her element.

The owner suggested something, she liked what he said and nodded. 'Si, provola va bene, grazie!'

He gave a quick nod to the man when he felt him look his way. He wasn't wearing a mask at the moment, he had it in his back pocket. It would have been strage. Naples scared him, he really didn't want to mess with the locals, nor endanger Eva. Most of all, endanger Eva more than he already was, him and Price.

'What did you get?' He asked, she led him outside where a small bench was. Before he sat, she signalled to take a peek inside the small kitchen from the window. He took her advice, she gestured to the inside. The same man that was at the counter was moving inside the small space, he checked the temperature of a large pot of frying oil and began to work on his pizza dough. He garnished two dough balls, one with tomato sauce and mozzarella cubes, the other with another type of cheese, sausage and what looked like spinach of some sort. He then closed the dough on itself and pressed tightly to prevent the filling from spilling out. He stretched the dough before gently immersing it in the sizzling oil.

'Oh, it's fried?' He asked, she replied with an amused smile.

'They started frying it in the 1940s, the people that couldn't afford ovens. It's really good.'

The man kept a close eye on their pizzas, unbothered by them looking at him cook, and chatting to his friends, his voice loud, pronouncing words Simon wasn't understanding. The smell of tomatoes and fried dough invaded his nose, his stomach rumbled in a way he wasn't used to. Even hunger was different when he was with Eva. She taught him food was meant to be enjoyed, it was a gift, culture and tradition. He just ate to survive.

Both pizzas came to cost them eight dollars. Unbelievably cheap, how do people live with prices so low?

'Try this one first', Eva suggested. It was the 'margherita' one. The dough was incredibly soft and light despite being fried, it was fragrant and chewy at the same time. Salty, the tomato was seasoned with oregano. He didn't guess that, she told him. She watched him struggle with the cheese pulling from the pizza from his bite, she smiled and took a bite of the other one. Incapsulated in time, in another universe, they sat together eating fried pizzas, Naple's speciality. He got a beer from the fridge, she gave him her pizza to try, she didn't care he already took a bite of the other one. He was maskless, he was normal. He had a shirt on and jeans, he was relaxed. No guns, no enemies. She wasn't crying for once, she wasn't panicking, she looked at him with stars in her eyes. She was calm and she chose him to share her calmness with. To share the evening, the hot air, the scooter and the mountains. Out of everyone, she chose him.

'Okay, why don't we..' Price tried to regain control of the situation. He took a folding chair from the corner of the room, two chairs one for himself and one for Simon.

'Why don't we tell you the plan, sound good?'

She closed her mouth, taken aback from his calmness, almost surreal. The two men sat down in front of her, Ghost more on the right side of the table. Having him so near frightened her, she could feel his judging eyes on her, she could feel how disgusted and disappointed he must have felt. She sat back, pressing her back to the chair. She wanted to hear.

'We know the south's corrupt, the special services we'll work with are units from the north, they're clear'.

'The north is corrupt too…', she mumbled, Price dismissed her comment with a gesture of his hand. 'We're given a base at Saint Felix, it's a thirty minute drive from the city. We're gonna stay there in the mountains, coordinate from there.' She quickly glanced between the two men. Price noticed. 'We're coming too, you're not going there alone.' Oh. That was different then. A special unit, British secret service squad in her hometown though… They stood no chance.

'Still, I can't just show up at my house…', she started again, and Price interrupted.

'Your sister knows.' She shut up. 'She's with us.'

So, as Ghost came to knowing just minutes before the interrogation that day, Maria Adele, or Mary as Price referred to her, was contacted by Laswell about Eva. She was married now, she had a one year old, she worked at the bank. She used to be a swimmer. They explained the plan and how Eva was going to be sent to Italy to work with the secret services. Maria Adele was shown pictures of Eva from the most recent days and she almost didn’t recognise her. She said her hair had never been this long, she said she looked good. She was an adult, she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

The captain said she was skeptical at first, said no a few times, but at least she understood and offered her help. She was smart, a nice person. Just like her sister.

Ghost had the chance to take a good look at Eva. Her pupils dilated like she was in coke, dark circles under her eyes that she hid with makeup and some redness adorned her nose. Her lips were chapped, she looked like she was about to fall apart, even though she came in so put together…

Price carried on trying to convince her. 'Your sister Mary knows, she wants to help, help us and you…'

'She doesn't need to be involved…', Eva muttered under her breath. She looked small enough to hold in the palm of his hand.

‘She’s with us’, Price repeated, as to reassure her. She didn’t look at ease anymore, she was tense and the fact that she hid her hands under the table made Simon think she was destroying her cuticles again by ripping off her skin.

‘Covid has been harsh on Italy’, Price started. ‘Especially for those small businesses that make money through tourism. And Naples is full of families that are struggling, restaurants, bars and local shops…’

Eva's eyebrows furrowed for a second, her head tilted to the side. What was he insinuating? But she let him speak.

'So we've been thinking, and some of the gangs have already started doing this in Sicily… to give them a hand, to offer help. This is the kind way of saying it, they're planning-'

'To take over the businesses. We put our people to work for them and we share the profit. But when the crisis is done, we still ask for money as a thank you for the times they were in need and we helped. We could even do some money laundering... '

They turned to her, once again surprised. She was so blunt with it, no filter. Not only did she finish the sentence for the captain. She even had more ideas, uh. A true professional. Ghost had to remind himself, not only of her incredible intelligence, but of the fact she was, at heart, a criminal.

She understood what they were thinking, she quickly jumped in. 'They did the same for the earthquake in 2015…', she said, '…they immediately started running made up construction business, they helped the people that lost their homes with loans, and they haven't stopped asking for money since. And the shops and restaurants, they are still under our control, we never really stopped getting a part of the profit from them... and, yes, we would use their businesses to cover the money that we made through drugs and prostitution…'

Price nodded, the unsettling revelation that she was already familiar with that kinda stuff was a lot to take in. And for Simon too.

'So…' Price resumed, '…we believe if you get back to your family, you could suggest this type of business to your mom, and offer your help. You'll be constantly wearing a microphone, you'd be recording every conversation you two have. And you'd report back to us in Saint Felix, every day. Once she trusts you again and lets you in on everything else, we just need to know the details and we'll take it from there.'

Simons studied her reaction to the plan, her face dropped. 'You wanna kill her?' She murmured.

'No, of course not.' Price soon clarified.

She seemed to be thinking about it, her brows furrowed and her mouth in a thin line.

'What about the others?' She asked.

'The Caseranos?'

'Them'.

'Well… we know your ex-'

'What?' She stopped him again. Furious this time, a bit ahead of herself, but still. She did always seem to get angry really fast. This was, maybe, a bit too personal.

Simon knew what the captain was gonna say and frankly, he didn't approve. Lure her ex into confessing using her, it didn't felt right, and he wasn't used to thinking like this. If that was the plan then so be it, if she wanted to help, she needed to stick to the plan. However… He didn't really know how to describe it, but he felt uneasy at the thought of what she would need to do with this… ex boyfriend?

'Well, you two dated, no? A long time ago, but you dated him', Price asked.

She was looking down at her lap, the emotions on her face weren't clear. Regret, nostalgia? Anger, most of all.

'And?'

'We just thought, since he's not with anyone at the minute, and we know he was quite fond of you…', her eye twitched, she wasn't comfortable anymore, '…you could befriend him again and we would go from there.'

'Befriend him, is that the nice way of saying you want me to fuck a guy I dated when I was seventeen?' She almost yelled, and got up from her chair.

The thought made Simon want to throw up.

'We're saying…' Price tried, but she was already gone, at least mentally.

'No no, you're asking me to do the right thing yeah, to do what's right!' She swung her bag on her right shoulder, at that point Simon stood up as well. 'He was supposed to be the enemy, you know I can't even be seen talking to him.'

He thought about saying something. About reassuring her in some way, Price wasn't sure asking her to do that stuff if she didn't want to… He surely would never put her in danger, was he a dangerous individual? She thought he could hurt her, did he ever hurt her in the past?

She was nearly out the door, Price stood up and tried to assure her they didn't want to use her.

'I killed his unborn brother, you're asking me to get with him...' she said. Simon had to admit, it did sound... rough. She was gone before he could process an answer.

And he felt bad. He felt like a complete useless idiot, he could have been on her side, at least for that last part. To let her know he didn't approve of this part of the plan. Did she think he didn't care if she had to have sex with some random guy? Not completely random, but still did she think he didn't care if she felt used? Did she think, because he didn't say a word during the whole meeting, he didn't want to help her?

You could have told me, that was what he said to her last time he was her alone, at the dance studio. He wanted to know, he wanter her to be open with him, at all times, with everything. Him and only him.

He exited the base and got one of the cars.

He drove to her house.

notes: hiii again, its me ehhe I'm barely alive but here we are!

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[mar3ggiata]

wow I'm really about to post I think, unbelievable