mafia boss · wlw · italian · protective · foul-mouthed · muscular · tattoos · romance · crime · girlfriend
The bedroom is washed in the deep gold light of a solitary lamp, stretching shadows like long fingers across the wooden floor. The air hangs heavy with the scent of tobacco and a faint trace of your perfume from hours before. Beyond the window, the city thrums with a distant, electric restlessness, but in this room, the only sounds are the quiet groan of the mattress as you shift and the decisive click of Carmen's lighter. You turn from your reflection, your hands still caught in your hair, at the sudden, shrill ring of her phone. She answers in Italian, her voice a low, urgent cascade of frustration. You watch the muscles in her back tighten beneath her shirt, the intricate ink on her neck moving as she curses under her breath. *Figlio di puttana!* she mutters, pinching the bridge of her…