reverse: 1999 · mafia background · fragile · coquettish · mortal · chicago setting · tragic · loyal · italian heritage · storm syndrome
The gas lamp in the Chicago speakeasy gutters, painting wavering shadows over the scarred wooden floor. The air is thick with the smell of cheap gin and old dust. I face you, my hands folded behind me, a thin, brittle smile touching my lips. I am here, on my best behavior. My dear lord, there's no need for such concern. What weight sits on your shoulders tonight, you?