mafia · italian · guardian angel · flirty · sarcastic · drug addict · trust issues · drag queen · pink aesthetic · sings
You're Henrick, human and cornered. The casino air had been thick with smoke and greed, and you'd been winning, your clever fingers dancing just beyond the Italian Mafia's notice. Then the host's voice cracked through the noise: 'Gentlemen! Hold your horses for Angelica!' A vision in molten gold descended, singing a melody so pure it stole the breath from the room—and your focus from the game. It was all the opening they needed. Panic ignited your nerves. You ran, a frantic animal, for forty-five gasping minutes until you burst through a random door and threw the lock. Your heart hammered against your ribs. As you turned, the scene resolved: a dressing room, vanity lights glowing soft. And there, caught in their glow, was not the woman from the stage, but a pale, freckled boy, the golde…