HEAVY ON SOMETHING (JESSIE'S DIARY)
Elena's Pov:
The newfound knowledge I had about Leo made me picture him in a different light. I mean...he was a mafia at such a young age? I didn't even know what to do or say. I was just dumbfounded. He didn't say anything and just walked out of the room so I'd be able to take the message all in. All these years he'd been part of the mafia crew and I had not even done as much as suspected. Mafia life was unbelievable to me. I thought it was only in books that these people existed. I thought they were all myths, only to realize that I'd been friends with one from school. I sat down on the bed and looked around. They killed for fun, didn't they? They broke rules and did everything they could to get what they wanted, didn't they? Weren't they corrupt and greedy? Tight with their money and heavy on dealing with debtors? I shuddered at the thought. Leo was one of them?
I knew it was already dusk, and I wasn't going back to sleep because of the fear of having another nightmare. As I lay on my back, my hands clasped on my stomach. I stared up at the dull white ceiling, trying to keep my mind occupied with memories of jokey days, but they only made tears sting the corner of my eyes. Brianne, how I miss you so much. As though she had heard me, the breeze caressed my skin like she had just given me a sign of "I miss you too"
Life for me was cruel, and mysterious, with bad people always wanting to hurt you without giving you a reason or having a reason to. I looked at myself in the mirror and realized that I had long forgotten about myself.
My pimples, stretch marks, figure and the like, I forgot all about them. When I looked into the mirror, I looked different, I felt different. My appearance wasn't the way it was many months ago. My face now had a mature touch to it, I looked older than my age now but, it still was okay.
My stretch marks hadn't vanished yet. I never even had time for myself when the news about Anne's death was disclosed. Well, how could I have time when there were situations that needed to be solved? My parents were killed and Jonathan was nowhere to be found.
I sprinted down the stairs, moving towards the kitchen.
"Good morning." I raised my head to see Leo preparing breakfast. Momentarily, I remembered bread and butter. I did reduce my intake of bread and butter, cause I couldn't remember the last time I even took it in. And I really missed it.
I shuffled to where Leo was baking and asked even before I could stop it. "You got any bread and butter?"
"You'll find them in the refrigerator." He said. I walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and saw an untouched bread before I took it out, and then an obviously unopened butter. Placing them on the counter, I untied the bread wrapper, took out two slices, and on it, I spread the butter. After I was done, I took a bite and almost bit myself. It's been a while since I ate bread and peanut butter. I loved it so much.
"You like bread and peanut butter?" He asked and I nodded.
"I haven't eaten it in a while now, because of the situation and stuff."
"Hmm. Lorna loves bread and butter too." I raised my brow and he nodded. "We get her lots of them, and some of them she has in her room."
"Do you like bread and peanut butter?"
"No, I'm allergic to peanuts."
"Oh. So what are you making?"
"Oat, it is one of my favourite breakfasts."
"Can I help?"
"Sure. Just add the blueberry to it."
"Okay."
"So, tell me more about yourself. Well not that I don't know you, but we haven't really gotten the opportunity to talk about ourselves."
"Okay, but first I already know much about you. Your family and stuff, the way you mingle and all."
"I'm not that obvious."
"Hmmm, no but most of the happenings in your family are posted on the internet."
"Not most." He gazes at me like he's saying there are more issues in his family that nobody knows. Then this marriage issue isn't the only thing bothering him. "The internet doesn't know about the mafia side of our lives. They only know the business part and the soft part of our lives. We show the internet what we want them to see. Any faults and there'll be chaos."
"Why were you asked to marry someone you don't even know?" The words escaped before I could stop them. It was as though the question I asked had an effect on him because he flinched.
"It's part of our business, talking about the mafia's culture. We marry into another family to sustain ours. But I'm not interested in getting married right now. A woman getting married to someone like me has to have the capacity to handle whatever comes. A lot of Italian Mafia daughters are pampered by their fathers. They have the best lives but live under strict rules. They're pampered all their lives just like how my father pampers Lorna. She resists him though, she doesn't want pampering. In other words, not many can handle the kind of life I live as a mafia." He stated and I leaned closer.
"What kind of woman would you like?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I sure as hell don't want a woman that can't handle herself." He stated. "I'd protect the woman I love with my life, but she also should be capable so I don't have to worry all the time."
"So you don't like fragile women?" I was fragile, I mean someone should take a good look at me. I was too fragile. It made me feel bad.
"I thought I didn't. They make me worry all the time. But they're cute all the same."
"I'm guessing you're the type that falls really hard," I said and he chuckled.
"I'm the type of guy that goes for the woman he wants. Regardless of what anyone says. If I get the chance to protect her, and she gets the chance to sit down, then why not?" He gave me a look. Could a guy give siren looks? Because he looked so dangerously gorgeous when his eyes met mine.
"You don't want a strong woman anymore?"
"Don't get me wrong. I like strong women, they make me feel overly masculine, but when it comes to a fragile woman, I feel dangerously masculine." He tilted his eyes as his eyes narrowed. "See the difference?" I saw it all right. He'd murder someone if he had to. He'd burn a hundred men if that's what it took to protect his woman. It was written all over his face. I knew the Leo of today wasn't the Leo I knew years ago. He damn wasn't.












