A/N: There's some cursing, but since it's 2p's I guess that's to be expected... First part out of...
Comments, faves and watches are very much appriciated~ ^^
"Tell me about your parents."
You sighed quietly as you listened to the two arguing italians in front of you in horror. How did you get in this mess, again?
Oh, yeah. That’s right. Your parents. Being the wealthy and powerful (not to mention adoptive) parents they were, it really wasn’t that much of a surprise that somebody would want to kidnap you, really.
And it really was your own godamned fault as well, for walking alone in the darkness of night in shady allyways in equally shady areas of Rome; thinking that nothing bad would happen to you.
Technically, you’d been asking for this to happen.
And now it had.
So… What were you going to do now?
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Flashback~! o3o Also, change of P.O.V *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
On earth there’s a continent called Europe. And in the southern parts of this continent there’s a country called Italy. The capital of this country is called Rome and in one of the dodgiest allyways in that whole city a young, (h/c) woman with (e/c) eyes made her way home from her part-time work at a fast but moderate pace.
(A/N: These three sentences are meant to be ironic.)
The woman kept telling herself, quietly in her mind, that she had nothing to fear. That she was perfectly safe and that she knew exactly where she was.
Unfortunetly, all of the three previous statements were false…
Hearing quick footsteps behind her she started to fear the worst and her ’fast but moderate pace’ instantly became a run for her life.
She already knew what was going to happen next. After all; she’d already been through this twice before.
One time about a month ago whilst walking home from her part-time work, as well, when she suddenly ran into a petite asian, possibly japanese, man with jet-black hair and the most frightening shade of red eyes she’d ever seen.
He had grinned a wicked smile and said that if she came with him without struggeling; maybe she wouldn’t be as hurt. Where he wanted to take her, she didn’t know; but she decided not to hang around long enough to find out so she turned around and ran all the way back to her workplace and stayed there for the night, thinking she’d be safe.
The second time was last week, again walking home from work, when she spotted a tall and muscular man stare at her from afar. Not wanting to take a risk, she asked her friend and co-worker if she could stay with them for the night.
And as the two were walking home they heard determined footsteps stalking them. Before her friend could even understand that there was something wrong, ____, as the girl is called, had grabbed her friend’s hand and started to run.
They managed to outrun the large man following and they were soon at her friend’s house. Finally inside, they quickly closed the door and made sure that it was locked tight. Twice.
You can never be too sure, right?
Yet, there she was again. Being followed by some strange man whom she didn’t know and, frankly, she didn’t want to. He was probably a rapist or murderer or something. Or worse.
As ___ continued to run, trying to find her way home in the darkness but only ending up getting more and more lost, she could hear her followers footsteps gaining on her.
He was soon so close that she could hear his heavy breathing behind her and a sadistic voice filled her ears as a pair of slender yet muscular arms wrapped themselves around her, forcing her to stop abruptly.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* End of flashback and back to normal P.O.V *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
And that was the last thing you could remember. The next thing you knew you woke up tied to a chair with a bag over your head. And not no mention with the loud arguments in italian the two men who were in the room threw at each other in annoyed voices, filling your ears and giving you a slight headache. Their voices were probably meant to be hushed, in consideration of you, but they really weren’t.
One of the voices you recognized to be the man who’d kidnapped you and you cursed at him in your mind, the other one you knew that you’d heard before; you just weren’t sure where, thought.
As the two continued their not-so-quiet argument you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and, before you realised your mistake, the two voices immediatly stopped.
’Shit.’ You though and mentally kicked yourself for your own stupidity.
The three of you all waited silently for a minute or so before the two men started to talk to each other again in italian before you could hear one of them grumbeling something and mumble a, nearly incohearable, ”Bastardo.” before walking away, opening and then closing the door.
You listened as his footsteps slowly faded and waited for the other man to do something. He then slowly walked up to you and started fiddling with the bag you had over your face before managing to pull it off.
Temporarily blinded by the sudden brightness you could just make out the features of the man kneeling in front of you. He stared back at you, his eyes hidden behind a pink pair of designer shades. He had a mop of blonde hair on his head, as well as a strange curl that seemingly defyed gravity sticking out of it, he was also wearing a pure white designer suit with a bright, lavender shirt underneaith it, as well as a flamboyant, blue scarf
(probably) thrown around his neck.
The thing you noticed, thought, was the wicked, bloodcurdling grin visable on his face.
”Ciao, ___.” He said calmly as you still tried to ajust your eyes to the light.
You stared at him with squinted eyes, uncertain on why he knew your name, but too afraid to ask. Maybe if you just didn’t say anything he’d leave you alone?
He ignored your silence and stood up again, walking to the other side of the small room, leaning his back against the wall and folding his arms across his chest as he continued. ”My name’s Flavio Vargas.”
You remained silent and he raised an amused eyebrow at you.
”Huh? Not very talkative, are we now?” He smirked at you. ”No?” He sighed. ”Well, I think that I’ll be able to hear that pretty voice of yours… One way or another.” He smiled darkly at you and you gulped. Maybe the silent treatment wasn’t helping?
”Hi.” You said, in fear of what he’d do if you didn’t talk to him and in lack of better words. You were a slight bit too panicked and frightened to come up with anything better than that.
”Ah, so you have a voice. Good to know.” He said, a cheerful smile now across his face.
You stared at him angrily, starting to wonder if he was bipolar or something. ”Who are you?” You asked but he just chuckled at you.
”I told you already, tesoro. I’m Flavio.” He replied as he walked up to you again, kneeling in front of you.
”I heard that the first time, dipshit, I meant who are you working for?” You hissed at the blonde, not liking what he called you.
”Not should a bella ragazza like yourself use such language…” Flavio commented with his eyebrows furrowed, but with a playful smirk on his lips.
”I may use what language I want to, blondie
!” You snarled at him.
”Hm… I was going to cut your ropes off, but since you’re being quite rude; I’m not.” Flavio said with a frown and put away the knife he had in his hand for cutting the ropes.
Now that’s just typical your luck. When things are finally going your way you mange to screw it all up by saying something you shouldn’t have… Well, since it’s already too late; why not go full out?
”Like I care, you godamned, incompitent, awfully idiotic, wannabe-french, gondoling (A/N: Is that even a word? xD), shit-talking, bafoon-like, pasta eating, fashion-maniacal, place-wasting, Italian piece of sh*t!” You yelled under a single breath and his eyes widened a bit in shock.
Flavio, clearly hurt about the fact that you kept insulting him even thought he tried to be nice to you, pouted and were just about to say something when the door to the room was suddenly busted open and a tanned man with auburn hair, with a curl simular to Flavio's, and magenta eyes, glaring at both you and the blonde man in front of you, stomped into the small room.
He was wearing what looked to you as a WW2 Italian brigade uniform and a tiny, matching hat with a bunch of purple feathers hanging on the side of it casually placed upon his head. You also didn’t fail to notice the knife he was holding in his hand, pointed threathingly at yourself.
’Shit.’ You thought again. You had forgotten that there was another one, and this one seemed quite furious, to say the least. Maybe he heard your rant? You hoped he didn’t.
”What the hell is taking such a godamned long time, fratello!?” He growled at Flavio, who had now stood up again facing the other man.
”Ah, Luciano. I was just about to tell her abou-”
”You ’were just about to tell her’ my ass
, Flavio!” the second man, Luciano, interrupted.
language.’ You thought as the two italians continued to yell at eachother, half in english, half in italian.
And, frankly, your italian was quite limited, even thought you lived in Italy and had for a while now. You weren't originally from Italy and your adoptive parents were from Australia... (A/N: Why Australia, you ask? Well, since Reader-chan's lived in Italy for years now but still doesn't know Italian she had to be adopted by an English-speaking family, and I chose an Australian couple.)
So with the restricted amounts of italian you knew, the only thing you could make out of their argument was that they cursed. A lot. Yelling things like ”pezzo di merda”, ”cazzo”, ”bastardo”, ”idiota” and the occational ”vaffanculo” at eachother whilst you just sat there, finding it hard to take your kidnappers seriously when they were like this.
Not being able to hold it in, you let out a small, nervous and uncertain giggle and the two brothers immidietly shut up and turned their heads to give you a death-cold glare.
”You!” Luciano said and took two giant steps in your direction. ”Do you have any idea why you’re here?” He asked and you raised an eyebrow at him but remained silent.
”Answer me!” He shouted at you, his voice hurting your ears.
”N-no… Should I?” You stuttered.
His expression softened a bit, but he still looked quite furious. ”Tch, that’s what I thought.” He muttered with an annoyed frown.
You gathered all of your courage, this man didn’t seem to be one you wanted to annoy. ”W-why?” You asked.
He turned his head to face you and quirked an eyebrow as he looked down at you from where he stood before you. ”Hm?”
”Why… Am I here?”
He sighed a deep sigh as he pulled out another chair, sat it down in front of you, but with it’s back facing you, and sat down on it. He had one leg on each side of the chairs back and was leaning his arms on the top of it.
”Well…” He mumbled and scratched his chin as he thought about what to tell you.
A long, awkward silence occured where he just sat there, toying with his switchblade, Flavio leaning against the wall and you just sitting there; still tied to the chair, hoping that someone could just say something. Anything.
”Tell me about your parents.” Luciano then suddenly said in a determined voice; breaking the silence.
”I- I beg you pardon?”
”You heard me: Tell me about your parents.”
You just sat there and looked at him, confusion written all over your face.
”Tell me about your parents, damnit! Holy crapola, you’re dense!” (A/N: Luci suddenly turned to Lovi for a second there…)
You decided that you were a little to afraid of the man in front of you to try to refuse what he said, so you sighed and started to tell your story.
”My parents are like any other parents, I guess. D*ckhead
”What was that?” Luciano raised an eyebrow at you.
”Nothing. They’re kinda ordinary, actually. Except for that they adopted me when my real parents died when I was here in Italy for a vacation when I was fourteen. My mother doesn’t work; she’s a housewife, and my father has some job with the government, I think. They're from Australia.” You said and tried not to cry when you remembered the grusome image of your parents’ dead, bloodied bodies.
”Adopted?” Luciano raised an eyebrow again. ”What do you mean ’your parents died while at vacation’, were you in a plane crash or something?”
”No… T-they were…” Your voice faded away into nothing.
”They were murdered.” You continued. ”By the mafia.”
Both Luciano and Flavio scoffed and exchanged an amused look with eachother. ”The mafia
, you said?” Flavio asked from the corner where he stood and watched the interregation-like questioning.
You looked at him, a confused frown on your face. ”Yeah, what’s it to you?”
He smiled an unnerving smirk. ”Nothing, tesoro.” But somehow you doubted him.
”I can assure you, bella, it wasn’t the mafia who killed your parents.” Luciano chuckled.
”And how can you be sure…?” You asked, but were afraid of what his answer was going to be, and still uncomfortable with the italian petnames they continued to call you. Didn’t they know you knew some italian? You’d lived in Italy for years, after all.
”Because we are
the mafia, bella.” Luciano replied with a horrefying grin across his face as he chuckled evilly.
You mentally slapped yourself for mentioning the mafia and gulped as the horrible feeling of doom and helplessness loomed over you.
Wow, you really were in deep
sh*t now, weren’t you?To be continued~