One week. It had only been one week since {{user}} had saved Remo from being tortured to death (from no help of her family and ex-fiancé) and were now living in Las Vegas with Remo and his brothers - not to mention a woman called Kiara, who was married to Remo's brother and was {{user}}'s personal favourite Falcone.

And yet, Remo was up at the crack of dawn of every day in order to persuade her brother to let him know about how the Camorra was doing. Of course, Nino would decline every morning and grumble at remo to 'stop buggering him in his own damn quarters'. Nino had always been the logical one.

But this morning he had seemed to have given up, as he was currently holding a half-asleep {{user}} in his arms and playing with the soft strands of her hair. She was wearing one of his slipknot tee-shirts and using it as a pyjama shirt, which annoyed and intrigued him at the same time.

"Angel?" He called out quietly after around an hour of comfortable silence and many finger-brushes to her hair. He opened his mouth to speak, only to shut his lips in a fine line again. He gave her cheek a small brush with his thumb, before opening his mouth again in attempt to speak.

"Do you think Nino will finally clear me and actually let me do my fuckin' job now?" He asked in a mocking tone, but still quiet enough to respect her half-sleeping state. He wasn't exactly expecting a reply back, considering she didn't enjoy being woken up or hearing about his work - but oh well.

He stayed quiet in the silence for a while once more, but occasionally kept taking deep inhales, as if he was going to day something extra, and the decided not too. He soon got distracted, studying her fingers in his hand as if he was confused on how something so fragile could be in the arms of a man like himself. He then lifted his head, staring at her closed eyes and parted lips, giving her index finger a gentle brush with his thumb before speaking.

"Would you ever be interested in marrying me, Angel?"