He was considered the ruler of the group, the head of the
body, the commander. Unlike his counterpart, he was fearless, blood thirsty, so
god damned crazy that not even the German or the Japanese man he knew would
argue against him. He was the mafia…no, IS the mafia.
People were still scared of that fact till this very day.
Most of the time this would put smile upon his face, even if it was a sadistic
crazed one. Now, though, it only made him depressed. Why, you ask? Cause everyone, everywhere, were getting over
the mafia.
His friends and family haven’t gotten over it and gone
against him yet, but everyone else seemed to. The American, the Russian, even
the easily terrified colorful English man were starting to retaliate against
him. He couldn’t understand why, for if it weren’t for him…
They’d all be dead.
The least those cannibalistic, nut balls could give him was
their respect. If it weren’t for the Italian, every single one of them would be
hung, executed, or shot for the crimes they’ve done. He was surprised that half
of them weren’t dead yet, even here, for what they’ve done.
Yet, no one else could see what he’s done. Because of this,
he kept on rethinking on the chance of suicide. Anything to get away from the
nightmare he created, which was once a dream.
Anything….
To get away..
From the memories.
He groaned as his eye lids fluttered open to reveal bright,
white lights. This was already the 4th time this week! Never in his
life had he gone to the hospital so many times within a short time period. Then
again, stealing that broad who used to be the best of nurses away from the
Russian was an all-around bad idea.
A sigh escaped his chest as he turned his head to find the
window, a portal reminding him of which world he truly was in. Dark clouds
littered the sky, a storm more than likely happening outside, miles away. The
whether a reflection of how he felt.
A light hit to his right arm, caused his attention to snap
to the side. He was met with the smirking face of his fratello, which only
caused him to let out a groan. Here it was.
He would never hear the end of it.
The blonde haired Italian sent him another signature smirk
before starting to fess about how trashy the hospital gowns made his brother
look. It went from that to an ‘I told you so’ session in which the fussy
Italian pointed out all that he had told Luciano would go wrong which did.
|The younger brother groaned as the grating voice of his
brother drained on and on. Out of all things this crazy life could’ve given him
as a brother, he was ‘blessed’ with almost the complete opposite of himself. He
hated it.
Just as if his day couldn’t get any worse, there was a knock
upon the door. The blonde brother opened his mouth to speak but the hospital
ridden one beat him to it.
“Who is it,” the darker version barked loudly, “If it’s any
of you other allies I swear I’ll cut you open like a trout!” He could hear the
heartbeats on the other side of the door waver slightly before returning to
their normal state.
“Luciano it’s us,” called the thickly german accented voice,
which only caused a groan from the mafia lord, “Came cause of your brother.”
Luciano sent a glare to his brother’s direction before he barked for them to
come in.
The German was the one who opened the door and entered
first, the Japanese man followed behind him. Ludz smiled as he walked over to
the bed. “Nice to see the mighty Luciano is like the rest of us low lives,” the
german joked. All he got was two pairs of rolling eyes and a weak chuckle from
the lighter haired Italian.
“Funny,” Luciano replied sarcastically, giving a death glare
to the jokester.
“Glad to see you’re still alive,” the Japanese man spoke,
his scowl never disappearing from his face. A soft chuckle escaped the Italian’s
throat.
“Is that Sarcasm, Truth, or honor,” he asked, “I still have
a hard time telling the difference.”
All the black haired man did was negatively shake his head
towards the joke. The bed ridden one looked at the three of their faces, only
stopping at the German’s when he could tell there was something else he was
there for.
“What else are you here for,” the leader spoke loudly, his
glare aimed to the bigger blonde, which confusion wrote upon his face. “I can
tell by your face that there’s something you want to talk to me about. What is
it?” The german swallowed softly as he tugged his collar, his heartbeat speeding
up slightly.
“W-well, Luciano, thing is,” he stuttered, “M-my sister is
having troubles and was wondering if she could stay with us.” The growl from
the leader scared the German so much, he had to add one last thing.
“She said she’d be more than happy to meet you.”
The dark Italian let out a sigh as his gaze dropped.
Figures, you let two in, you had to let in the final one. Luciano made the big
mistake of looking back at the German, for upon the other’s face was desperate
pleading.
“Fine,” he heard himself hiss, “But until I’m home she goes
nowhere else besides where she needs to!” The German’s lips turned into a smile
as a simple thank you escaped his lips. His ‘friend’ was thankful, while
Luciano had just wondered what he had agreed to.
‘Well,’ he sighed, ‘if this woman wants to meet me so bad,
she’s going to have to wait for a few weeks to actually see me.’
Hopefully, she doesn’t rebel like everyone else.
Luciano sighed as he looked around the place that they all
called home. First day home in weeks, and it was already giving him a headache.
Kik was sharpening his sword, the scraping of the tools grinding against the
Italian’s ear drums. Ludz was playing video games, the loud explosions and war
like sounds bringing back memories.
Now though, Ludz was arguing with Gil on whether or not they
should even enter their little sister’s room. This made the Italian leader a
bit skeptic about even meeting this crazed woman. After a few rounds of
rock-paper-scissors, it was decided that the elder brother would be the one to
puller her out of the room.
“LET GO OF ME,” a voice screamed hoarsely, loudly making the
Italian jump, “I SWEAR if it’s another girl scout I’ll cut her l-“ The female
turned her head away as a hiss escaped her lips.
“You need to come out,” the elder growled, which surprised
everyone. The Prussian never spoke more than a few words. “You’ve grown
sensitive to the sunlight, plus,” he grew closer and whispered something to
her.
“He’s HERE,” she screamed, the intensity causing the leader
to flinch, “Well thanks bigger brother…now I have another reason to KILL
MYSELF!!” The elder brother just rolled his eyes as he grabbed her wrist.
“Stop trying to act like me schwester, it’s unhealthy,” he
simply stated as he drug her into the room. He took her and flipped his arm,
making her spin onto the couch in a messy slump. Her hair was a mess upon the
material, even though it blended perfectly with it. She kept her eyes closed as
she crossed her arms.
“Open your eyes,” the dark Italian barked, getting sick of
the woman’s stubborn ways already. A mumbled smart-ass remark was made as she
opened her eyes and tipped her head to him. He gasped suddenly when her eyes
met his.
Bright red, holding a very short temper behind them, bags
upon bags surrounded them. Her face looked paler than her should-be-dead
brothers, yet nothing seem to have punctured the skin. Her black hair was short
and choppy as it hung off of her scalp.
But her face falter into a growl as she stood up and got
close to the Italian. Her black boots thumped loudly with every step she took
until she got in arm length away from him. Luciano couldn’t help but stare in wonder,
which only made the woman angrier. The half German-half Prussian woman growled
as she cocked her arm backwards and, with a slight twist, thrusted it forward.
Smacking him right where his own knife cut him.
“As if,” she screamed, “I get enough bull from the world
around me without you barking me around like a dog!” She pulled a knee up and
connected it to the man’s gut, making him double over. “I’m not like your
followers,” she growled as she turned on her heal, “So watch your back.”
With that she stomped off, leaving multiple wide eyes and a
pair of admiration looking after her. The one that held admiration did feel a
little angry for her to be a rebel like he hadn’t hoped, but it wasn’t a rebel
like he had met before. Oh no, it was something much different.
He got up onto his feet, the brown boots making a small
thump as he used his hands to push himself all the way up. He chuckled slightly
to himself before going to bark demands to the others. Only when they were gone
did one of his gloved hands flowed to his cheek, making a plan that could
possibly…
Get that rebel, and to call it his own.
It had been months since they had first rightfully me, which
in turn means that there’s been months of failure for the bossy Italian. He
tried being romantic, but he simply got a door slammed in his face. He tried
showing off, he only got eye rolled.
He didn’t know what to do!
He eventually gave up his pride and turned toward his elder
brother for questions. It felt a little weird for the younger one for he had
just helped his brother with an issue similar to this two years ago. It just
didn’t seem right.
He groaned as he climbed the wooden steps onto the porch,
the rotting wood itself moaning with him. He still didn’t want to do this, even
as he did knock upon the dark colored door. The door opened and the Italian turned,
only to be met with the frowning multi-colored glare of his nephew. Luciano let
out a small chuckle as he stooped down to the little boy’s level.
“Hey Guta,” he said, ruffling the four year olds hair, “Is
your dad home?” The boy nodded, his gaze never moving away as he opened his
mouth, a semi-dark voice calling for his papa.
“Yes Guta what is,” Luciano watched as his twin froze when
he saw him. Luciano felt his gaze fall when he saw a smirk starting to form on
his elder brother’s face. “Hello Luciano.”
“Hello Flavio,” he hissed as his glaring gaze fell upon a
ladybug.
“And what must it be that I get a visit from you on this
fine day,” the elder cooed. The younger man growled, his brother knew he hated
when he did things like that to him, but, he was the only one who wouldn’t go
and tell Nev.
“I need our help,” the younger one grumbled, using his heal
to squish the bug he had kept his gaze on.
“What’s it about,” the elder one said, pushing the child
back inside before walking forward, closing the door behind him. When the
younger brother didn’t say a thing, the elder one crossed his arms. “Luciano.”
“It’s about that German Girl alright,” the younger screamed,
“Something about her just…takes over my mind. Even when I try to focus on
battle plans, my mind just wanders to her.” He heard the older brother chuckle.
“But she’s a rebel,” he stated, putting a cigarette into his
mouth and lighting it, “I didn’t think you like rebels.” The younger grumbled.
“I know,” Luciano hissed, “but she’s not the rebel that everyone
else is. She’s…different.”
“What have you done to try and win her,” the elder asked,
the smoke pouring from his mouth with every movement, “How you do something is
very important to a woman.”
“I’ve done everything I could think of,” the younger one
grumbled, not noticing a figure coming up behind him, “Being a romantic, a
strong man, anything! I’ve done some things people would think I could never
do. I’m trying to get her to see but I don’t think she can!”
“Well, what are you trying to make her see,” the blonde
haired asked, a smirk slowly appearing upon his lips again.
“What do you mean what am I trying to make her see? I’m
trying to make her see Amore,” the younger one screamed, “The fact that I love
her! The fact that I-“ The Italian froze when he felt a finger tap upon his
shoulder. He started cursing himself as he turned around to look at who it was.
“Bout time,” her voice broke open when he finally faced her,
“I was waiting for you to say that. Granted the gestures were nice, but a woman
like me, doesn’t need things like that.”
“S-so,” Luciano felt himself stutter, “W-what is your reaction?”
The giggle that radiated from her was neither negatively nor positively taken.
“Let’s just say Amore hit me a long time ago.”
He felt his whole body relax as a smile appeared upon his
face. One gloved hand disappeared into his jacket, only to pull out a knife.
“Could I teach you a game,” he asked, holding his empty hand
out to her.
“Only if it’s one I don’t already know,” she replied, taking
his hand into a death squeeze. The pain caused the Italian to whimper, which
only made the woman laugh. When her laughter hit his ears, he couldn’t help but
smile, even though the pain was still great.
Finally, he found a rebel that was worth his time.
The one rebel who remembered the Mafia.
The leader
The bossy
Knife Welder
