Well, she kissed me. It's hard to believe that such a thing actually happened. A moment I never expected, even though it was just a gentle touch on my forehead. But in my mind, it counts, doesn't it? Amidst all the instances of her intimidating ways: the knives to my throat, the forceful use of my body, or being cornered against the wall, this was a departure from the norm. Instead of violence, she used her lips to touch me.
I comprehend that she may not be ready to fall in love with me, and perhaps she never will be. Her personal boundaries and doubts about our compatibility are understandable. Still, I can't help replaying that interaction in my mind. The memory remains, etched into my thoughts.
Part of me knows it's probably best to let go, to forget and move on, avoiding any false hope of a romantic connection with Camila. I have to accept that those chances have faded away. Yet, there's another part of me that pleads for significance in that moment. Did it hold a hidden message? Was it a way of saying goodbye, or perhaps a glimmer of hope that she might return to me someday? Could it be that she, in some way, loves me too?
Now matter how hard I try to convince myself to move on, it's an arduous task to let go of the memories we've shared. From the sweet kiss, the breakfast we enjoyed, our unforgettable date, to her mesmerizing guitar playing and my soulful singing at the casino. Yes, even amidst the instances when she displayed her intimidating side: holding a knife to my throat, pinning me against the wall after I freed her from the chair, or using me to break a window and then dangling me dangerously over the edge of my apartment. Love, as they say, has its flaws.
Our relationship was filled with dangers, imperfections, passionate arguments, and moments of uncontrollable laughter that would leave our ribs aching. I accepted Camila's outbursts of anger because love means taking risks, even when the love isn't reciprocated. But here's the thing: she does love me. She confessed it, looking directly into my eyes before she kissed me. However, she believed that her love for me was forbidden, an obstacle in her mission to eliminate me as one of Mr. Ryuu's biggest adversaries. I agreed with her, understanding the constraints we faced. But deep down, I wish I could turn back time to last night and assure her that those obstacles didn't have to define us.
If only I could have expressed that those circumstances shouldn't hinder our connection. Would that have changed our fate? Or would she still have departed from my apartment at seven in the morning, gently playing with my hair, leaving me to ponder where I went wrong in our journey towards building a relationship?
One thought emerged, one that held immense significance. If she truly meant it when she said she loved me, was there a possibility of rekindling what we had lost? I couldn't ignore that question, and it felt like the most crucial one to address. Despite the belief that she didn't see a future for us, a part of me was determined to make an effort. I respected her perspective, and I understood her doubts about our compatibility, but within the depths of my being, I held onto the faith that I could win her back. I believed in the strength of our connection, and I believed in us.
I departed from Angelo's apartment at the break of dawn, silently slipping away without leaving a trace. There was no note, no farewell uttered. As I gathered my belongings, I made sure to extinguish the light in the bedroom, leaving no sign of my presence. As I headed out, I swiftly grabbed a granola bar from the pantry, and with a click, I locked the door behind me, sealing the memories within.
It seemed that Angelo was already awake at that early hour, observing my departure from afar. Uncharacteristically, his usually closed door stood ajar, offering a glimpse of his relaxed sweatpants and a finger gently clutching the door frame. Part of me longed to bid him farewell, to extend the same sentiment to Luca. However, I knew deep down that if I succumbed to that desire, parting ways would become unbearably difficult.
To be honest, I never truly wanted to leave. My heart yearned to remain in Angelo's presence, to forge a bond and experience the wonders of love. I yearned to strum melodies on his guitar within the bustling casino, to whip up breakfast delights, to engage in exhilarating pursuits. Alas, my allegiance to Mr. Ryuu, my master, rendered any friendly interactions with Angelo strictly forbidden. His rules were absolute, and I had no choice but to obey.
It was in that moment of contemplation that a question emerged: Was Angelo worth it? Was relinquishing my role as an assassin, forfeiting my entire future in that realm, a sacrifice I was willing to make for the sake of love?
The entire journey home was consumed by a relentless internal debate, with my mind torn between two compelling paths. On one hand, my life had been driven by a profound purpose: to seek justice for my parents, whose untimely demise haunted my every waking moment. The unwavering desire to unearth their killer fueled my journey as an assassin, as I methodically interrogated each target in search of the elusive truth. Yet, despite the grim toll of 823 lives claimed, my quest had remained fruitless, leaving me disheartened and wondering if I would ever unmask the person responsible for my parents' tragic fate.
On the other hand, an enticing alternative beckoned, offering the prospect of a life I genuinely desired. A life with Angelo and his love. Seven years of my existence had been devoted to the world of assassination, and while it had a purpose, it also meant sacrificing the possibility of love and happiness. Angelo represented a chance at the affection and connection I yearned for.
I stumbled wearily into the dimly lit house, bracing myself for the inevitable storm that awaited me: Mr. Ryuu's reaction to my return. Within moments, his heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway, his face a muddled blend of confusion and anger. He halted just inches from me, his imposing presence casting a shadow over me. Hands on hips, feet planted firmly, he glared into my eyes with an intensity that seemed to pierce through my very thoughts.
I couldn't help but wonder if he possessed some uncanny ability to peer into minds, for on more than one occasion, it seemed as if he could discern my innermost musings. I recalled that one instance when I nearly expressed my reluctance to partake in an assassination, yet remained silent. Despite my unspoken reservations, he somehow sensed my hesitance and erupted into a furious outburst. His bellowing words rang in my ears, dismissing my desires with callous disregard, emphasizing that my purpose was solely to serve his interests. Now, in this tense moment, his finger ominously pointed in my direction, his mouth poised to unleash whatever harsh words or demands he had in store for me.
"Oh, great, now you decide to show up, Vega! Where the hell have you been all this time? A whole damn week, and not a single word from you about Russo's status! Do you even know how important this assignment was? So, come on, Vega, spill it. Did you manage to complete the assassination this time, or did you, as usual, screw it up like you always do?"
Angelo, I mused to myself, would never subject me to such treatment. He wouldn't unleash his anger upon me if I faltered, if my attempt at assassination fell short. No, in his presence, I sensed a different dynamic unfolding. I could almost envision him offering me respite, granting me a brief reprieve to gather my wits before nudging me to try again. Unlike the cold formality of addressing me by my last name, a moniker I despised, Angelo would surely engage with me on a more personal level. He wouldn't condemn me for my failures; he would understand.
In that moment, my conviction wavered, two crucial points falling away from my rationale for remaining under Mr. Ryuu's control, for continuing my existence as an assassin. The truth emerged, unvarnished and undeniable. Angelo was better.
"Quit avoiding me and give me a straight answer, Vega!" Another point. That's three. "Did you actually do what I asked you to and complete the assassination, or did you screw it up? Again. I'm warning you, don't even think about lying, because I can see right through your pathetic attempts."
"Regrettably, sir, I must admit that I failed."
"Oh, for the love of… Of course, you screwed it up! Why did I even waste my breath asking you to do something important? Do you not comprehend the gravity of killing Russo for me? He's a major threat, a constant danger to my life. But it seems like you couldn't care less about that, huh?" Mr. Ryuu's impatient nature was on full display as he turned away from me, smacking his own face with a frustrated groan. It was the same old story: whenever I fell short of completing a task he assigned, he couldn't hide his anger.
"Consider yourself lucky this time. I'll let your failure slide for now, but don't get any delusions that I'll be so forgiving if you mess up again when I order you to take him out."
"Naturally, sir. I'll make a more concerted effort to take care of him in the future."
Through my extensive tenure as Mr. Ryuu's assassin, one lesson had been etched into my very being: never ask questions. The urge to inquire about his motivations for wanting Angelo's demise was present, but I knew better than to tempt fate with such queries. Whether it was a simple request like "Can I take a break?" or even a harmless curiosity about his age, crossing that line meant stepping into a world of trouble. So I kept my thoughts to myself, silently following his rules and fulfilling his commands, for survival thrived in my obedience alone. Obey, follow, listen, succeed. Success being synonymous with not faltering in an assassination mission.
With a subtle gesture, Mr. Ryuu stepped aside, allowing me to pass and retreat to the solace of my bedroom. The conversation, such as it was, came to an abrupt halt. As ever, his words held the weight of command, leaving no room for interpretation. And as I entered the confines of my room, a daunting realization settled upon me like a heavy shroud. The stakes were impossibly high. Should I fail in eliminating Angelo when Mr. Ryuu set his sights on him once more, the repercussions would be nothing short of catastrophic.
Seated at my desk, I retrieved a distinctively bright red notebook, in stark contrast to the navy blue one holding the names of my previous victims. This particular journal housed the names of my current targets. And now, against my own will, there were two names I had to inscribe within its pages. My hand trembled as I tried to resist acknowledging their existence, but I couldn't evade the inevitable. Angelo's name, followed by Luca's, were messily scrawled on the empty lines. Deep within me, I recoiled at the thought of harming them, let alone taking their lives. But alas, defiance against Mr. Ryuu's orders was out of the question, for the consequences were nothing short of severe. A mere slap in the face was just the tip of the iceberg, a hint at the torment that awaited those who dared to challenge him. And beyond that lay the ultimate, dreaded outcome: death.
With a stifled sniffle, tears threatening to betray my emotions, I reluctantly placed the pen back on the desk, closing the red notebook. My mind was a swirling vortex of uncertainty, lost in the turmoil of conflicting emotions. I desperately yearned to cross out Angelo's and Luca's names, a symbolic act of my defiance against their impending doom, but Mr. Ryuu's vigilant surveillance prohibited any such rebellious gestures. I was trapped, unable to alter the fate I had been ordered to carry out.
The choices before me loomed like dark shadows, each pulling me in opposite directions. On one hand, I clung to my position as an assassin, terrified of the consequences that defying Mr. Ryuu would bring upon me. Yet, on the other hand, Angelo's love beckoned, a beacon of hope that temped me to forsake everything I had known.
The internal struggle intensified, the scales tipping precariously between loyalty to my master and the growing affection for Angelo. I chided myself, urging to be brave, to stand against Mr. Ryuu's control, regardless of the peril it entailed. In the depths of my heart, I believed Angelo was worth the risk.
The resolve within me solidified, unyielding and unwavering. I knew what I had to do, and I was prepared to face any consequences that came my way. Defying Mr. Ryuu was a risk I had to take, no matter how dangerous or daunting it may be. The thought of returning to Angelo, of being with him, propelled me forward, guiding my every step.
Angelo's allure called to me, pulling me closer, and I embraced the truth that I wanted to fall in love with him. It wasn't just a fleeting desire; it had transformed into a resolute determination. Nothing and no one would obstruct my path. I would claim my love for Angelo Russo, and no force would stand in my way.