It’s a lie, and I’m sure she knows it.But it’s all I have left to give her, a promise built on broken bones and burned-out dreams.I won’t let her see it.Not tonight.Not when she’s curled against me, breathing like I’m still something worth believing in.I’ll carry the lie for her.I’ll fucking drown in it if it means she gets to keep dreaming a little longer.Even if it guts me.
Her father’s been my father’s right-hand for as long as I can remember.Bound by something uglier than loyalty.Blood spilled in dark corners, secrets buried in shallow graves, deals carved into flesh before I even drew my first breath.
Two monsters dressed in matching suits.Suits steeped in violence, stitched together with power and blood.Built not to serve.To destroy.
And us… We were born into a world already choking on smoke and violence.Where love is a weakness and trust is a loaded gun.
My father never lied to me.He didn’t need to.He fed me the truth in fists and fire, pain a rite of passage, blood a twisted inheritance.He dragged me through it, teaching with bruises, branding lessons into my skin until there was nothing left to question.
Through alleys slick with blood, past the bodies that no one ever bothered to bury.Over floors where the screams were swallowed whole by the silence.
He didn’t shield me.
He prepared me.
But not for the future.He prepared me for a goddamn war.
While other kids were out there kicking soccer balls, scraping their knees on the pavement, I was learning how to scrub blood off my hands before it had time to dry.I was taught how to shut down the part of me that flinched, the part that still cared.
Because in his world, weakness was a death sentence.And I couldn’t afford to be weak.
He said it was the only way I’d survive this world.That softness, was suicide.Mercy… just another bullet waiting to find its way into my chest.He taught me that kindness wasn’t noble, it was fucking fatal.
Every time I hesitated, someone else wouldn’t.And in our world, hesitation is a goddamn death sentence.
I’ve pulled the trigger.Watched grown men cry, beg, even piss themselves.Stared down the barrel of a gun with eyes so empty that I couldn’t even remember what it was like to be a kid who hadn’t yet learned how to shave.
I’ve worn this life stitched from fear and obedience, forced onto me by hands that never asked.My sins hung off me.A coat that never fit right, constantly slipping, always dragging me down, as if the weight itself knew I didn’t belong in this world.
I’ve seen things that should’ve split me open.Right down the fucking middle to my core.Things that tore through bone and left the pieces rattling inside me.Felt shit that still claws at my skin, feral and restless, waiting to pull me under.Dark memories.Hungry ghosts.All scratching at the edges of sleep, sinking their teeth in deep, reminding me I’ll never outrun the monster my father made.
But with Emery, all that noise just stills.All that’s left is the steady rhythm of her breath against my chest.Soft.Calm.Real.She’s not just the calm after the storm, she’s the reason I even know what peace feels like.
And fuck, it’s beautiful.The kind of beautiful that cracks me open.That makes my heart feel too small to hold it all.I was never built for this much feeling.Never meant to love this hard.
With her, I’m just Matteo.The boy who would burn the world down just to keep her safe.To keep her right beside me.She makes me want something I’ve never fucking allowed myself to crave.Something that I would fight to have with my next breath.
I want to be worthy of the softness in her touch.I want to be worthy of the love she gives without hesitation, without asking for anything in return.
Sometimes, when it’s just us, I let myself dream.That there’s a world out there for us, somewhere beyond the blood-soaked streets.A place where we don’t have to fight, where we don’t have to bleed.Where the only scars we carry are the ones we choose to make.
In those stolen moments, I imagine it’s just us, her heartbeat matching mine, our breaths tangled in a world that doesn’t hurt.I fucking want it.More than I’ve wanted anything in my life, but I know it’s just a dream.And yet I can’t stop reaching for it.I can’t stop wanting it with every piece of me that’s left unbroken.
“You’re not like them,” Emery whispers, her voice so soft it slides beneath the walls I’ve spent years building around myself.
“I don’t want to be one of them,” I mutter, voice raw, torn wide open.“I fucking hate it.Hate the monster they’re making out of me.”
The words burn going down, but they’re the truth.I hate what they’ve carved into me, the blood, the brutality, the man I see when I look in the mirror.
Her eyes soften, and in that fleeting moment, I see the girl I fell for.The one who loved me when I was still broken, when I was nothing but shadows.The one who sees something other than the monster I’ve become.The one who still believes there’s a future I can give her.A future we haven’t lost to this fucking darkness.
“I know,” she says, so simple, so gentle, it cracks something wide open inside me.“But you’ll be okay.You’ll find a way out, Matteo.I know you will.”
And fuck, that’s all I need to hear.Because in her eyes, I’m still worth fighting for.Even when I can’t see it in myself.Even when I’m drowning in the lies I’ve been fed, she still believes in me.
I pull her tighter against me, clutching her like she’s the last flicker of warmth left in a world gone dark.Right now, nothing else fucking matters but this.The girl I’d tear myself apart for.The girl I’ll spend every breath trying, and probably failing, to shield from the nightmare we’re both trapped inside.
My lips brush against her forehead, slow, lingering—an attempt to carve this moment into my bones.If I hold her soft enough, careful enough, maybe I can preserve just one piece of myself that hasn’t been gutted by the violence.One piece that’s still mine.Still hers.Still fucking human.
