A R T I S T
Diavolo and I were seated at the front of his BMW, he took the liberty of driving himself today, not that I was complaining—as scary as he is I don't see myself being around his men for too long.
We sat in comfortable silence as he drove on the lonely road towards the city, you could see the top of the big corporate buildings on the horizon, with the sun posing high in the sky behind them.
A sigh left my mouth as I had no idea if I would ever be free to roam the streets of New York, ever again.
For now though I was granted the pleasure of wearing a comfortable sweat pants and sweater outside the house and it kinda made me feel nice. For the time being and it also covered my bruises, which I try not to think about, my brain was currently blocking the trauma.
Diavolo was decked out in a black semi casual, semi formal attire. His pants were black slacks with his shoes being grey loafers, he wore a button down black silk dress top that was not tucked into the waist and had a few buttons opened at the top.
His short hair was left in messy curls at the top of his head and the rest of his hair neatly trimmed, he didn't have a stubble which made his jawline look even sharper, his eyes were low like he was high or something and his long eyelashes did wonders covering them.
He had tattoos all over, ones I didn't realize he had until now, he had the one at his temple that said death, a big skeleton hand wrapped around his neck it looked like he was in a death grip; literally or a choke hold of some sorts, then he had many that covered his hand, the hand that gripped the steering wheel tightly.
His long fingers were decorated with silver rings and each finger had a letter tattooed onto it that spelt out the word devil—that is exactly what his is— a handsome devil.
You'd see his face and got easily deceived but what lies beneath the surfing would have you running for your life.
"Where do you want to go first?" Came his voice, startling me out of my reverie, my eyes snapped up to his, to find him already staring at me.
I quickly looked away with a hard blush, did he see that I was checking him out? Well even if he did, he didn't comment on it.
I cleared my throat and just registered what he had asked me, "ahh... Your asking me?" I inquired, I didn't know that I had a choice.
"Yes... Do you want to head to the pharmacy first or to the clothing store" clothing store? I snorted subtlety, who even speaks like that.
"aum.." I thought about, if I head to the pharmacy first he'll probably stay in the car and wait for me, I'd have the freedom of getting whatever I wanted.
That's stupid... Your right, I don't think he'd leave me alone for too long.
"get on with it artist or I choose for you" he complained and I rolled my eyes.
He snapped, "what did you just do?" The shift in his tone made me look up at him with fear, drawing back in the seat to try and hide my body away from him.
"W-what?" I asked oblivious, he drew the brakes and the car came to a screeching stop.
My heart thundered inside my chest, what did I do? He grabbed my face harshly and I whimpered under his touch.
"Don't roll your fucking eyes at me again. I hate it. Do you understand me?" He snarled, his annoyance and slight anger seeped through the cracks of his calm facade and I a git a glimpse of terror and hatred seeping through his eyes.
Don't double cross him artist.
I nodded and he slapped me on the jaw not too hard but definitely not soft either,"use your words.. you have more mouth than anything else" I do not!
I wanted to glare at him and tell him to go frig himself but I knew better,"y-yes diavolo's I understand" I said.
I caught glimpse of the sly smirk that threatened to break through, he likes this.. he released my jaw with a hard shrug and returned to his driving position before speeding off.
"and we head to the pharmacy first" he said, choosing for me, I wanted to sigh and maybe cry... Or scream anyone good enough to release this pent up frustration.
As evil and harsh as diavolo's is, I wanted to know more about him, he intrigued me and that scary realization made me understand what Miranda was getting at.
Why was he like this? Did the murders he committed taint his heart that he thought he had no redemption.
What is he truly like? What's his nam—
"Why do they call you diavolo's and why can't I know your name?" I asked, treading on a fine line.
I was trembling with fear but I had to know, he glanced at me an indifferent expression on his face, he gave nothing away as he contemplated, squeezing his finger tighter against the wheel, my legs clenching with it.
Omfg... You did not
"My reputation gave me that name.." he answered vaguely.
"What's your reputation?" I pushed making him sigh.
"I kill people artist in the most brutal fashions known to man... Wether for fun or business, something not many have the heart to do, hence the meaning of the word because only the devil is that evil" he explained with a dark lilt to his voice, for some reason I felt turned on and a shiver of excitement traveled up my spine.
What was wrong with me!!!
"o-okay..." I gulped, I wanted to ask him about his name again since he totally dodged it the last time.
"a-and your name?"
He smirked," I thought I told you before little mouse that my name only brings death... Do you want to die?" He asked and my eyes widened.
I shook my head but quickly corrected myself, " n-no"
"Then I suggest you drop it" I did. I did not bother him or ask him anymore questions until we were pulling up to the pharmacy, my mind at the moment was focused on my plan.
We parked at the front of the big box like looking building with the blaring sign of its name on it—Marines public pharmacy— and Diavolo turned the engine off, I reach for the door but found it locked, I turned to tell him about it only to find him staring at me with a dark look, my breath hitched inside my throat.
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