Qualm...

… The occasional, so mere, yet so nagging and perturbing emotion flooding Caporegime with tension during work due to his raw obsession, although, ironically, it was incapable of depriving him of his brilliant performances, despite mild uncharacteristic distraction being felt exclusively upon times he was implied to be relieved by the absence of tasks. The former grunted upon the continuous contemplation.

The contemplation of him.

The moment he had grown affiliated with Mafioso, in all sincerity, the authority was the only individual somewhat precisely replacing his subtle unease— Astonishingly, he was the source of it. Source of the emotion he oh so desired to eradicate, yet, it only seemed to grow, gradually crushing the remains of his rationality to maintain himself sane.

Ever since he dared sign his name down that pitiful contract, maintain lost in all of his faith and eternal loyalty towards a singular man, recall his indescribable beauty, that subtle, taunting grin…! Foolish he was to view his boss in such sinful manner. However… That cunning snake — to be taken literally — inevitably carried him to the most familiar yet frightened location he was aware of; his office.

A raise, a compliment, a bribe.. Nothing quite out of common. A gesture to approach and… Cease. Pardon?!…

“Signore?!—”

.. It all seemed rather peculiar, considering his daydreams. Yet, there he was; Mafioso’s serpentine tail and arms wrapped around Caporegime securely, sharing the valuable front seat. To both the lieutenant’s internal pleasure and feigned “dissatisfaction”, purring emitted from him subconsciously, leaning to the latter. Not merely a handshake of gratitude any longer, he supposed, despite discreet affection from the pair being usual in private — ironically, the two did not assume a romantic connection..

.. Yet, he hoped.

“Why are you staring?” He uttered apprehensively, rather bluntly. Awkward, he attempted improving the mood, groaning silently in irritation at himself.