“So, you’re worried about your outfit?” I shot him a glare, crossing my hands against my chest. He chuckled, “Pfft, you’re not going for an interview darling that you have to be in a presentable outfit!” He has a point.

“Yeah, but an outfit gives an impression!” I argued, pouting a little.

“Yes it does but the one who has a beautiful soul and kind heart doesn’t needs good clothes for a good impression, do they?” That statement had me fell mute. I let my hands down and asked, “And what if I’m no kind-hearted beautiful soul?” My hazel eyes looking directly into his brown ones. 

“Impossible!” He stepped closer and gently yanked my hair-rubber down, causing my hair to fall free over my back. 

“How?” 

He smiled, “Because no-one can possibly act so well!” He managed my hair and held out his palm to me, “Now, shall we?” I looked down at his palm then at him but don’t know why I couldn’t put my hand in his.

His statement made me wonder if he has anything for me because the actual me is everything but a good soul and who’s in front of him is an evil in disguise. Will he still love me if he learns that I am a MAFIA??

She's The Mafia

My hands were crossed against my chest with my eyes fixed on the flower bouquet over my table. Since the time I have seen it, I’m only yearning to go to him and unload all the bullets in his head. I know that he’s sent me these bloody black flowers on purpose. He knows that black roses used to be my favourite flowers because they’re black and black has an aura. It represents darkness and power. And this was also the reason why I always wore black, but now... This colour is just a reminder of who I was. 


Help Me Cry