“Revenge is never a straight line,” I speak softly, but with enough bite to get my point across. “It’s a forest. And like a forest, it’s easy to lose your way. To get lost… To forget where you came in.”
He tilts his head, and I can feel the smirk beneath my palm.
“Hattori Hanzo.Kill Bill Volume 1,” I explain with a grin.
He actually chuckles, and I pull my hand away for the second time, warning him with my eyes not to act up. He bites his lip.
“I don’t want to be your prisoner, or your pet, or your killer, Manuel Blanco,” I tell him.
One last chance…
“Then what do you want, little bird?” He whispers.
“I want to fly… with you.” I rest my hands on his chest.
The Ivory is scared. He looks every bit as terrified as I’ve seen him up to this point, in those brief flashes of vulnerability. But it’s at the forefront right now.
Fear and exhaustion. Like his admission earlier, he’s being crushed by the weight of this empire he swears up and down is what he lives for.
But maybe he just needs… something else to live for.
Some good to balance out the evil.
“I… want that too,” he admits, on such a nervous breath I barely heard it.
But as soon as he says the words, he groans and drops his forehead onto my shoulder.
“Heavy hangs the head, Diablo.” I rub his shoulders. “You’ve already surrendered… You’ve given up this island.”
His face lifts, our eyes locking. There’sthrillin them.
Unbridled joy for the toppling of this empire.
He swallows and looks around briefly.
“Does that… excite you?” I snort, puzzled.
His lips part like he wants to protest. I just gaze at him, pleading and commanding together until he sighs, “Yes.”
A small smile tugs at his lips, and I have to chuckle.
“Fuck, yea… God damn, that feels so good,” he breathes.
Then he lunges at me.
He tackles me to the ground, hugging onto me, kissing my face all over while I squeal.
“Fuck this fucking island,” he rasps. “Fuck that shithole prison…Fuckthe Russo’s…God, fuck the Russo’s so hard.” He chuckles, then lifts his face. “I mean… may Antonio rest.”
He pulls an obviously fake pout that I just have to swipe my thumb over.
“The war is over, Diablo,” I hum, grinning. “You lost. Suck it up and move on.”
Manuel is trying hard to scowl over his obvious glee. And yes, he is more Manuel than I’ve ever seen him, right here and now. Giving up a pretty hefty chunk of his control.
But it was by far the heaviest piece.
“I’m still evil, pajarito.” His fingertips trace my jaw. “That won’t change. I’m still El Jefe…”
