Twilight...not mine (sigh).
Chapter Sixty-Three
After cleaning up the kitchen, Edward and I went to bed. We watched some Italian television before curling up together. He fell asleep right away. I, on the other hand, did not. For a few reasons...
Reason one...nightmares from the bombing still plagued my subconscious. As soon as I succumbed to deep sleep, I'd feel the earth move and the orange flames exploding from the parking garage. We never made it out on time and Edward and I burnt to a crisp.
Reason two...my sleep schedule is all sorts of fucked up due to sleeping on the plane for most of the day.
Reason three...what Edward said to me and the emotion it elicited from me. Yeah, this was the main reason why I couldn't sleep. I mean, when he thanked me for taking care of him, my heart jumped and took off. A warmth filled my body and I wanted more of that. Then, when he touched me after that, my skin erupted in goose bumps, reacting to the electric current that zinged through me from his casual touch of holding my hand.
What does this mean?
I'm so confused.
Eventually, around three in the morning, I finally was able to go to sleep.
I guess I was exhausted because I didn't wake up until I smelled bacon and eggs. My eyes fluttered open. "Welcome back to the land of the living, sleeping beauty," Edward chuckled. I rolled over and saw him carrying a tray.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"A little after twelve," he replied, putting the tray over my legs. "Breakfast is served."
"You cooked for me?"
"The only meal I can cook," he snickered. "Scrambled eggs and bacon. I did burn the toast, though." He picked up a fairly charred piece of toast, glaring at it. "I can use this as a bullet, it's so hard." He banged the toast onto the plate. I giggled. His glare softened to a crooked grin. "You took care of me last night. I wanted to return the favor, albeit pretty pitifully, for you. I did make sure where the nearest hospital was in case you got food poisoning."
"Stop," I laughed. "It looks delicious and smells even better. Thank you, Edward." I tucked into my breakfast, expecting it to be horrific but it wasn't that bad. Edward wasn't a gourmet chef but the bones were there to enhance his cooking. He got up and puttered around the room, pulling out clothes and going into the shower. I finished my breakfast, complete with scrambled eggs and cheese, bacon, toast (that really wasn't edible, but the toaster needed to be replaced), freshly cut fruit and a steaming cup of coffee. Edward even fixed my coffee the correct way. By the time I finished my breakfast, Edward ambled out of the shower wearing a pair of shorts and a v-neck t-shirt. "I've never seen you in shorts. You've got sexy legs."
"They're too white," he grumbled. "That's what you get for being Irish."
"Full-blooded?"
"Half and half. The other half is Scottish," he said in a brogue. "My mom was Irish and my dad was the Scot. I'm assuming you're all Italian?"
"Yep. My mom was born here, in Sorrento. Or rather, her family was. Dad's family was born in Naples."
"Was your dad always involved in the organization?"
"It started with my great grandfather. He worked his way up. My grandfather was the heir apparent because the original head didn't have any sons. After that, the rest is history," I shrugged, curling up on the bed.
"Is that why your dad doesn't want you taking over? Because you're not a boy?" he asked, arching a brow.
"Edward, do you think I could handle what my dad does?" I replied.
"No. I don't. You're strong in many ways, Little One, but in others, you're very vulnerable," he explained. "What are you going to do? You're getting your degree in Literature."
"Working for a publishing company, write books, get married and start popping out kids. I don't know," I shrugged.
"Is that what's expected of you? Get married?"
"My dad is very forward thinking, but the old ways are ingrained in his psyche. Women should not have a job outside of the home. Their job is taking care of the home, raising the children and taking care of their men. My mom never worked. I've never had a job other than school. I'm used to it."
"Don't you want more, though?" he asked, picking up the tray and putting it on the ground. He held my hand. "It's amazing to make your own money. It's a real sense of accomplishment."
"I do want more, but I'm afraid to go for it. Edward, I'm a 'mafia princess.' I have to maintain a certain appearance. In the organization, we all have roles. My dad is the head, he takes of all of us. He's the one who makes the difficult calls. He's the one who falls if we ever do get caught."
"Are you sure? Charlie never is involved in the heavy lifting," Edward retorted.
"My dad does distance himself, in some ways. He won't carry out a hit. We have contract killers, assassins. Nor will he give the order outright. It's all interlaced with conversations and code. No doubt, Charlie put the bug out to end Jane, Alec and Marco. But he wouldn't outwardly say it. The comment would something completely random. 'The dog has a purple tail,' and the whole thing is set into action." I thought some, cuddling against a very fresh smelling Edward. "What will happen if my father gets caught, Edward? Will you take care of me?"
A/N: Heavy question from Little One. How will Edward respond? No pictures with this one, kids. Sorry. If you want to see pictures from previous chapters, check out my blog. Link's in my profile. You can also find me on Facebook: Tufano79's Twilight Fanfiction Appreciation or on Twitter: tufano79. Leave me some lovin!
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