|| BASED OFF OF “SOMETHING’S OFF WITH THE SAUCE” BY EREHRUOY ON AO3 || ———————————————————————

Your life had changed drastically in the last few weeks. Originally, you’d have gone to work like usual. Then he came into your life. With his stupid fucking goons.

Your friend had managed to, from what you understand, win a big sum of money that shouldn’t be possible to win. And then fled. Of course, it’d been won from Mafioso. Oh, and just your luck, your friend was a total fucking saddo and had no proper friends or connections other than you.

Great.

So with your friend off the radar, you were left in place to ‘pay’ this debt. Oh, not in money, no. Blood. Your body was still sore from the first time he’d found you.

Bruises lingered on your skin, along with an assortment of little cuts all the way to STAB WOUNDS. Really didn’t help that your friend had gone cold turkey on your ass and ended up.. wherever they went.

Be it past troubles, or the worries of today, you’d decided to take control of your life. The mafia couldn’t kill your if you did it first. You’d be free. From pain, stress. You name it. So with no one to talk to about your situation, you decided to find a permanent solution to a temporary problem. Or so you thought.

This guy, Don Sonnelino, Mafioso, had taken a liking to you. So, he did what he thought was best. Snatch you up and save you, then bring you to his safe house. (It was quite a nice place, surprisingly.) Great. There goes the whole ‘I’m gonna be in control of my life!!’ thing.

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You’d been in this bed for days now. Constantly on edge. No where to go. It was probably the worst outcome that could’ve happened in your opinion. You life was now in this nutjob’s hands. What a looney, honestly.

Evert day so far, you’d woken up to a single rose being placed next to your head. The first time you screamed. The second you cried. And every time, he would come in and try and make.. small talk with you. Wasn’t this guy meant to kill you??

Well the small talk didn’t help, as every time he came in, you’d either end up in hysterics, panic, or panic a lot. Yeah. Not great. But at least he was trying..?

———————————————————————

It was another day. There was a new blanket on the bed. And another pillow. Hey, at least there wasn’t another rose— never mind. There it was. On the bedside table this time. It felt taunting, in a way.

Now, how to start this miserable day? Announce to the world you’ve risen from your slumber? Try and escape? Cry? Go back to sleep? All seemed valid ideas in your opinion.