Chapter TwentySeven

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"A scattered dream that's like a far-off memory.

A far-off memory that's like a scattered dream.

I want to line the pieces up - yours and mine."

-Sora, Kingdom hearts II


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Seth's P.O.V

Over the time that Willow had been living here, I had tried my hardest to bring her out of her shell. After royally fucking up and scaring her at the restaurant before, I always made sure to keep my more suggestive thoughts to myself. Seeing her break in front of me from a few words that I had intended to make her feel wanted was like a jab in the gut. And when I saw her struggling to tell me what exactly had happened, I decided I would give her time, instead suggesting some sleep, as I could see the exhaustion in her eyes.

She had seemed off the next day, but I put it down to tiredness and what had happened the day before.

Though as the days went on, she didn't seem to relax much, began to avoid meals sometimes, or running to the bathroom where I could hear what I thought was her throwing up some times. I caught her on a few occasions looking in the mirror, top raised and poking about at her belly that was slowly gaining a more than attractive curve to it. In fact, all the weight gain she had made only made her more attractive, her body beginning to fill out the way it was supposed to. I had found myself often day dreaming about running my hands over her, gently squeezing the soft flesh, kissing, nibbling...

And that often led to lots of cold showers. The good thing about it all was that I got to hold her close to me everynight, making sure she was safe in my arms. We had never talked about her getting her own room, I had just placed her in my bed, and it seemed to have stuck. I didn't mind sleeping on the couch or another room, but every time I tried, she had clung to me terrified of being alone, asking me to stay. So I had. And every night, she had quietly cried into me, not making a sound as I felt tears soaking into my tops or over my chest. I figured it was something she needed to do, to help her, so I never spoke, or asked questions, I just held her close, gave her the comfort she needed and let her cry before falling asleep.

When she slept, she looked more relaxed, like she wasn't plagued daily by nightmarish memories and the stressful life that had been handed to her. There was no fear, no confusion or worry on her face. And it was one of my favourite looks on her. My first so far would be her blushing and smiling.

Father had been told everything, in depth of her situation, or as far as what we knew any ways. Between me and Jasper, we had figured out a lot, but that didn't mean that Willow wasn't hiding other things that had happened. He had gotten angry at the basics, and as we continued with what we knew, he slowly became more and more furious. He had full on raged about family and how some scum didn't deserve to live. Even as part of a large syndicate, the leader of the Italian mafia, we still had morals and knew where lines had to be drawn. Father had -metaphorically- beaten it into me, Family was important. Blood didn't matter, if they were family, then they were important. And had to be protected. We had many different dealings in a lot of crime, but none of the members that we dealt with directly never dabbled in such horrific deeds. Although Father often complained about having to deal with lower ranking members and sections who saw fit to use their status to over step the boundaries that he had tried to implicate. If they were completely innocent, no connections to any enemy's or traitors, then they were to be left alone. If they had some form of connections then they had to get orders from someone higher up about how to deal with the situation. If they themselves were the enemy or traitor, my father often made the trip himself to deal with the issue. He liked to make sure everyone knew who was in charge, and the price that was paid when crossing him.

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