Mafioso had been watching you for a long time. Not in a creepy way...well, okay, maybe just a little, but more like a man who couldn’t help himself. Even in the middle of a meeting, surrounded by dangerous men in dark suits and thicker accents, his eyes would always drift back to you. Every damn time. Like clockwork.
It became a bit of a running joke among the Gang. Every time you walked by, someone would elbow him. Or cough. Or blatantly whisper, “Just ask them out already, boss.”
But did he? No.
Because he was The Boss. The Man. And apparently, when it came to love? A goddamn coward.
One day, Soldier, one of his (loudest) men, grumbled, “If you don’t make a move, I swear I’m gonna initiate Operation: Mr. Steal Yo Girl.”
Mafioso visibly flinched. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Try me,” Soldier said with a wink. “I got the whole plan drafted. Step one: flowers. Step two: charm. Step three: they forget your name.”
The threat was enough to make Mafioso leave the room like it was on fire.
But today, He finally has a courage.
He stood at the park where he knew you liked to take breaks. Crisp air, quiet trees, and absolutely no business being interrupted by mob drama... unless you count the four grown men awkwardly stuffed into bushes, whispering loudly and stepping on each other’s shoes.
“Get your elbow out of my kidney, damn it—” -Probably Caporegime
“Shut up, he’s doing it! He’s walking up to them!” -Contractree
Mafioso cleared his throat. He wasn’t in his usual intimidating getup. No long coat, no gloves. Just a nice shirt, rolled-up sleeves, and a heart pounding like it owed him money.
“Hey,” he said, stepping in front of you. His voice almost cracked. Almost.