happily ever after

Ashes still rose from the tall building, water dripping from the beams and from the window sills. Windows had burst, furniture had been torn down, bursting apart from the seams. Police were spread all over the assassin’s house, having closed the nursery of which almost nothing was left. 

plot drop ;; self para

Setting: Ricardo’s Office

Mentions: Mary-Jane, Jackie, Ricardo

Triggers: Blood, death, violence

Eyes turned their focus on the blonde again, a sad glint giving them an unusual shine. He did nothing, said nothing. His eyes just followed her as she paced through the kitchen, rambling words of how he could get out. Out of any scenarios he had pictured their conversation would be, he hadn’t thought of this one. It was just like her to surprise him, but this surprise he didn’t like. “Mary.” He spoke, stepping away from the counter to block her path she paced back and forth from for the past half minute. “I’m not going anywhere.” It was a statement, not something that was up for debate, reasons for which followed two breaths later. “I know I always said I wanted a farm, but what would I suppose to be doing there? Going to another place, again all on my own. It would only be filled with negative memories, and every day would be a dragging process of me slowly losing my mind. If you think I would leave just like that, you are very much mistaken.” A hand lifted, the side of his index finger pressed softly under her chin to keep her face lifted so that their eyes would meet. His place was at her side, always within arms reach. He wouldn’t be able to survive leaving her, as dramatic as that may sound. She had simply become too important in his life. He had found his other half. 

“Marry me.”

Mary. Dylan whispered her name like a prayer which in all honesty, compelled her to stop. Her eyes snapped up to settle on him-- carrying, offering affection and tenderness. He didn’t manage to stop her mind from racing, though-- driven by fear that consumed her entire being: fear of being left all alone with no one to care for, with no one to care about her. If you think I’d leave you, you’re mistaken. Today wasn’t the first time the woman had heard him say that; I’ll stay without forever... I’ll always come back to you... Magical words, all spoken at the right time. However, only in that very moment, did she begin to understand-- his words and actions were in sync-- everything he had done was because of her. And his love was there to make sure she never felt alone again. Marry me. A command, not a question. Good, for he knew the answer, just like she had for quite some time now. It was him, it would probably always be him. Her heart skipped a beat and pushed her forward, her hands finding their place on his chest before she let out a soft murmur to caress his lips. “I want to spend the rest of my days loving you.”  Training, joking, conversing, kissing, fucking, bickering, hugging and farming, also. 

“I’m a fool for a lot of things, it seems.” he allowed himself to smile, leaning in to press a kiss on the tip of her nose while she spoke. “Maybe. Maybe not, one way to find out – or well, three ways.” Turning from her hold on him, fingers firmly grasped the two plates he put besides the stove, his quest for cutlery starting soon after. “That’s the one.” words confirmed before they explained why he had brought him up. He had expected he might’ve shed a tear at that moment, but still there was nothing. He was already buried by this time, but perhaps Dylan still couldn’t grasp the idea that the man who raised him to be the great figure he was today was no longer breathing. “As am I.” he sighed, placing the cutlery on the counter and turning off the plate. “He put me in his will.” Dylan then spoke, turning to take the half folded letter from the table and held it out for her to take and read.

Mary set the table; moving plates, cutlery and hot pots from the counter to place them on the table. Taking the letter from Dylan, she didn’t say anything. Instead, the woman moved to stand next to him, her arm coming around him again, offering silent comfort. A set of blue eyes then began moving over the words, slowly taking them in. “He left you his farm. And you have to go back.” The old coach had turned Dylan’s dream into a reality. ... Reality that didn’t involve her. Her tone was neutral at first, soon emotion crept into her voice, showing how much the content had touched her. “--You will go. I-- I mean not r-right now... Ricardo wouldn’t let you leave the country, heh. When this is all over, then! Would Cessations let you go, hm. I don’t know! I should talk to Raphael--” By the end of her rambling, she was pacing around the kitchen. 

“--Raphael, are you in here?”

[Raphael]: I’m not.  [Raphael]: I need you to meet me at the mansion, can you make it here within the hour? It’s important.

[Jane]: What do you mean, you’re not? [Jane]: I’ll be there in 20.

“Better keep me on the neutral lines then. I can be both sugar and spice one moment and dark and dangerous the next. I’d be specifically fun in the bedroom.” He snickered, his muscles tensing at the touch of her hand against his abs before he exhaled again. “I can work with that. I still have a stack of your CDs laying around here.” the man spoke while he turned, eyes focusing down on her as he met her gaze, the smile on his lips immediately growing until they reached his eyes. “Hi.” he repeated once more, his fingertips traveling on her cheek. He couldn’t hide things from her, and so he knew better than to lie or keep things from her. The smile slowly faded, a quiet sigh escaping his lips before he lowered his hand to her waist. “Remember the trainer I spoke about? The one who moved to the countryside when I quit GLORY?” He began, turning around once more this time to get their plates to place their dinner on. “He died last week.”

“You’re a fool if you think I couldn’t handle you. Or anything else, for that matter.” Jane scoffed at his words and tightened her grip around his waist which brought her closer to him. “Oh, in the bedroom?” she carried on, her tone teasing and light. “Does that mean you’d be boring as hell in the, say, bathroom, kitchen, hallway...” She concluded with a wink before releasing him and turning to the stove to stir the pasta while he grabbed the plates. “The one who owns a farm?” The blonde raised an eyebrow, though her gaze remained fixed on the pot she handed over to Dylan. Mid-movement, however, she froze. “Died?” Dylan hadn’t mentioned his old trainer much, in fact she’d only heard of him when he had told her about his dream; owning a farm and raising a dozen. “Amore, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s ugly enough as it is and she still defends it.” Worry was thin, but yet not completely erased from the words she sounded, which would have been entirely endearing in the wake of different acts of violence inside the streets of Rome. “If she will recognize it or still love it in a different color is the least of my concerns.” Still crouched on the ground in front of the washing machine, beginning to slow down. Once blurred colors turned into clear shapes of wet clothing inside the machine, the door was opened with a smooth motion and articles soon carelessly fell into a small basket and fingers soon curled around a partially decapitated bunny – in red color. “Well that’s – I could fix that?” A beat. “Partially?”

“... Well, at least we know she’s not the one to give too much importance to physical appearance?” The woman tried, her gaze wandering over the basket filled with colorful clothes. Her voice contained a hint of humor, though for it was nice to pretend the missing stuffed animal was the only thing they had to be concerned about. Once Jane spotted the bunny, she let out a breath of relief. Finally. “It doesn’t look too bad...” she murmured, licking her lips. “We have a basic sewing kit, the fourth eye-- or third nose I found on the balcony. And red is a nice color, color of love.”

@jane-wallow

To say Louis was a nervous wreck was an understatement. He knocked and waited impatiently if not a bit with the tap of his foot too. The chaos on the streets was like a bad record on replay right then in his ears, and he wanted to sort out his own concerns with Jane.

Mary Jane waited patiently by the door: Louis may arrive at any moment. They had to have the talk, that she much knew. Yet she didn’t know what exactly to tell him. Should she continue to hide her involvement with the gang? How could she when the other night, he’d witnessed her doing some gruesome things and something like that couldn’t easily be forgotten. --A knock on the door interrupted her inner debate and she quickly opened the door to let him in. “Ciao. Come on it.”