Chapter XXIII: Melting beneath your Touch

The sound of her alarm had Rosalie shuffle around her bed before reaching out in search for the device, her fingers fumbling over empty space until warmth enveloped her palm. Peeling open her eyes, her vision cleared as she noticed another hand swipe off the sound. A soft chuckle escaped her as she turned onto her back and glanced to her side, smiling up at Arcangelo who lay awake beside her, his head propped up as he stared at her with pure gentleness.
"Good morning." He murmured quietly as he caressed her cheek while she leaned into his touch.
"Morning," Rosalie whispered quietly as she curled around his warmth. "Since when have you been awake?"
"It's been an hour or two," Arcangelo admitted as he placed a kiss on the top of her head.
"What have you been doing for that long?"
"Watching you sleep,"
"Yes, of course, that's not creepy at all..."
A laugh burst through Arcangelo as he enveloped her in his arms, hugging her tightly she groaned against him.
"Breakfast?" He asked her as she lifted her head to look up at him.
"Yes, please,"
Both of them jumped out of bed as Rosalie headed to the washroom to freshen up while Arcangelo made his way towards the kitchen. She joined him just as he was pouring their coffee, wrapping her arm around his waist as he poured in the cream. Smiling adoringly at her, Arcangelo pecked her lips before handing her the coffee with a breakfast muffin; blueberry, her favorite.
She settled herself onto the center island, swinging her legs while munching on the muffin as Arcangelo leaned onto the counter opposite her, sipping his coffee as she was telling him about her day's agenda.
"I'll have classes until 2, today," Rosalie informed him, biting into her muffin. "Then I have a birthday lunch to attend."
"Whose birthday?"
"Maria's,"
"Happy birthday to her,"
"Yes and that's probably going to be until around 6. So, I should be back home by 7." She made a rough estimate. "Will you be fine on your own?"
An incredulous laugh burst through Arcangelo at her question. "I've been fine on my own for years, Tesoro, I am sure I can handle a couple of hours by myself."
Jumping off the counter, Rosalie put down her mug before standing in front of him, pressing herself to him as he watched as her hands slipped beneath his shirt, wrapping around his waist to play with the waistband of his sweatpants as she ran her nose on the skin of his neck, lightly placing a kiss on the flesh.
"During those years I wasn't in your life, cuore mio, now I am," She murmured against his neck as Arcangelo threw back his head to grant her more access and instantly her lips explored more parts of his neck which he had exposed to her. "Now you behave while I'm away."
"I don't like being told what to do unless I'm naked," Arcangelo grunted as her hands caressed his sides beneath his shirt.
"You don't like being told what to do, period."
"You know me so well, cucciola,"
"Mhmm..." Rosalie hummed as she pulled away, meeting Arcangelo's gaze he looked down at her with hooded eyes. "I have to shower, so you should probably join me. It'll save water."
No soon had the words left her mouth did Arcangelo lean down and sling her over his shoulder like a sack, a squeal escaping Rosalie as he patted her while heading towards the bathroom, a laugh echoing through the apartment as he kicked the door close.
**
"Great!" Rosalie hissed as she ran around her apartment, hurrying to get dressed and leave as Arcangelo trailed behind her leisurely in grey slacks and a white button-up as she still struggled to find a shirt with her jeans.
"Now I'm late and hot and bothered!" She grunted as she pulled up her jeans, buttoning them into place as Arcangelo came up behind her, placing tender kisses on her neck and shoulder.
"We can take care of that hot and bothered bit."
"Fuck you." Rosalie tried to push him away as she reached into her closet, pulling out a random shirt to wear.
"I'd rather fuck you," Arcangelo growled, pulling her against his chest.
"Stop it! I'm late."
"Since you're already late, let's finish what we started.
"Shhckss." She hissed forcing a laugh out of him before pulling on her shoes with the laces still tied, struggling a little before stumbling out of her room, Arcangelo close behind. "I'm leaving!"
"Where is my kiss?" He stopped her short with a tug on her wrist as she rolled her eyes in half-hearted exasperation. Cupping his face into her hand, she placed a quick kiss on his lips as he grinned at her before she ran out the door and down the hallway, sprinting down the stairs since she couldn't wait for the elevator, afraid to miss her bus.
**
Like she had told Arcangelo, her classes finished at 2 p.m. after which she had gone to buy her best friend a gift. Getting it wrapped with a birthday card, Rosalie made her way to the restaurant they were all having lunch at. Arriving at 3, she hugged her friends before handing over her gift to the birthday girl. Throughout the time that they all laughed and chatted away, Rosalie checked her phone for any messages from Arcangelo but was surprised to see none. Keeping her concern to herself, she managed to enjoy her time out with dancing and laughing and a lot of chatter.
Finally, around 6, people started leaving and Maria and Rosalie left together since they were both going in the same direction.
On the elevator ride up, Rosalie couldn't stand still and kept fidgeting, impatient for her floor as she wanted nothing more than to jump in Arcangelo's arms and tell him all about her day and the fun she had. Given the time, she knew he would be cooking and she was looking forward to his hand-made meals for her.
"Finally," Rosalie breathed out in relief when the door jerked to a halt. Stepping out, she skipped down the hall and unlocked her apartment, a wide smile on her face as she entered. Taking in the meticulous condition of her apartment, realizing that he had cleaned it for her. Moving inside, she turned around to close the doors, her foot hitting against something as she looked down.
Confusion clouded her mind as she noticed Arcangelo's bags standing by the door, packed and closed.
Slamming the door, she looked around, finding him standing against the kitchen counter, his hands in his slacks pockets with his gaze downcast.
"Arcangelo..." Rosalie called out to him, hesitant. "Is...Is everything alright?"
Slowly lifting his gaze Arcangelo looked at her with the most pained expression she had seen. His face was as white as a sheet as his eyes shone brightly against his complexion. Taking his hands out of his pockets, she noticed how his hands trembled as she saw the frightened and vulnerable look reflected in his eyes.
"Arcang-"
"-Sit down."
"What-"
"-Please, Rosalie." He choked out, his voice thick and high strung his entire posture on alert. "Don't make this any harder than it already is."
Swallowing thickly, Rosalie sat at the edge of her sofa her knee bobbing up and down in her anxiety as she began to bite her nails in her nervousness, a childhood habit which reappeared in situations like these.
"What's going on, Arcangelo?" She managed to speak through the lump in her throat. "Please, you're scaring me,"
"I like you, Rosalie." Arcangelo's voice trembled as he stood by the counter not being able to look up at her. "A lot."
"And...I realized this the night you made me see that emotions aren't chemical defects." He continued, a small smile playing on his lips at the memory. "But...I told you that it was up to you if you wanted our relationship to progress-"
"-And I do!"
"Rosalie..." Arcangelo spoke as he held up a hand towards her, "Just listen to me tonight, alright sweetheart? I'll respect whatever you decide."
Dread washed over Rosalie like a cold wave, causing her hands to feel clammy as she couldn't help but continue gnawing at her nails to relieve the ever building anxiety.
"I'll start...I'll start from the very beginning, alright?" He bargained, glancing up with wide and frightened eyes. "Tonight...tonight I am laying myself bare in front of your eyes. Because I want this relationship to progress. With all my heart, I want it to move ahead. But I don't want it to progress on the basis of hidden secrets...So...So I will tell you everything about myself and my family and what it was growing up to be me, and all I ask from you is that you just sit and listen to me, okay? Can you do that for me, princess?"
"Okay. I can do that." Rosalie nodded, grasping at the armrest as she couldn't understand the vulnerability across Arcangelo's face, the fear in his eyes and the trembling of his hands.
"My...My mom was 18 when she got married to my father who was 25 at that time. My mother, Helen Affanti, was the only daughter of the Mafia boss, Francesco Affanti. And my father, Antonio Regnante, the heir to Gabriele Regnante." Arcangelo informed her as he rubbed a hand over his forehead, trying to straighten out his thoughts. "It was a purely political union, the merger of two families."
"From...from this wedding, they had two kids. My older brother, Onofrio and myself."
"What about Alyna?" Rosalie couldn't help but ask as a bitter smile overcame his features.
"She...She was just a poisonous reminder of my father infidelity to my mother." He growled with a dark look, Rosalie's eyes widening with shock at the revelation. "Yes, their marriage had a political agenda and initially there were no feelings, but then along the way, they fell in love with one another, and I have seen that love. That love is one of my earliest memories, which is why the presence of Alyna is all the more difficult."
"Mom was devastated when Antonio came home with a newborn baby girl in his arms. Shamelessly telling her that she was his daughter and that the mother had died during childbirth and that being a Regnante she was his responsibility. My mom, being the soft-hearted person, she took Alyna under her wing and raised her beside us like her own daughter. "
"Both Onofrio and I were old enough to know that she wasn't truly our sister, but we were promised never to treat her like anything less than that, but I always had a bit of hatred for her because she was the first domino which brought our perfect little family crumbling down around us." He spoke darkly, a shadow falling over his features as a cold chill washed over Rosalie forcing an unpleasant shiver down her spine. "Alyna was the first, then came my father's drinking. I remember he just come home so drunk that he reeked like an entire bar. The smell seared into my brain like the smell of my mother's home-made cookies. It was so strong and frequent, that the smell was my association for that stronzo."
"His drinking got so bad that he once slapped my mom," Arcangelo spoke with a far-off look, staring at nothing in particular. "I still remember it so vividly. She had just asked where he has been and he responded by raising his hand against her. It was so hard that she fell down; I can still remember the sound of his hand against her cheek. It's the most unpleasant of sounds which passes through one's soul, especially if it is the father raising his hand against the mother."
"I knew...I was 10 by then...and I knew that not only would he abuse my mom, he'd be abusing his children as well." Arcangelo swallowed thickly, his lower lip trembling over so slightly as he fidgeted with his fingers. "I...I struck a deal with him...One night I went to him and I told him that whenever he gets angry...I'll...I'll let him beat me as long as he spared my mother and sibling. And...and if he did hit any one of the others...then I'd...I would call my uncle and tell him everything."
A strangled cry escaped Rosalie as it felt like someone was squeezing her heart from inside her chest. Tears welled in her eyes as she noticed the pain in his expression, have no doubt that he had been abused.
"He...He abused me for 3 years and I bore it quietly, not making a sound or showing any pain in front of my family just so that he wouldn't hurt them. And and and whenever I got a visible bruise or cut, I would grin at my mom and tell her I got into a fight with one of the bigger kids in school. My friends knew though, the found out when they were playing and did something which revealed a fractured arm. They knew, but they kept quiet for my sake, they promised me, so they kept quiet."
"The night my mom found out...was the night it all ended..."
"I was thirteen, and dad came in angrier than usual. I don't know what-why he was like that, but he beat me up so bad that I couldn't help but scream in pain. He grabbed my head and and...and hit it against the best post..." He spoke with a shuddered breath, tears flowing down Rosalie's cheeks as she wrapped her arms around herself, pain coursing through her as she gently rocked herself. "And I got this scar as one of the reminders," Arcangelo spoke as he traced the dented skin around his left eye.
"He started choking me and I felt like I would die, I would have if my mom hadn't run in, I don't remember much from what happened because I thought I was dying with the chokehold around my neck." Arcangelo gritted out as he made a choking gesture with his hand. "But from what I was told, my mom hit him with a bat and knocked him out before calling my uncle to take him away."
"After that, I woke up in a hospital, and I couldn't talk for three weeks. And once I finally could, I told my mom everything." He swallowed back the tears. "She cried...she cried so much like I had never seen before...not when Nona died, or when Nonno was killed, or when dad came home with Alyna...she had cried more than when all of that happened. She didn't scold me, or say anything...she just cried and held me."
Arcangelo inhaled deeply as he threw back his head, a tear streaming down his face as he gritted his teeth trying to compose himself long enough to tell her the rest of the story.
"Arcangelo..." Rosalie choked out between her tears, standing up to approach him.
"No." He swallowed, stopping her with a hand. "Stay right where you are."
A whimper escaped her as she watched him scrub away the tears, his eyes bloodshot and wide.
"Those three years left me with various mental disorders and sufferings." He chuckled darkly. "The smallest of things would set me off, I grew terrified of the dark, the sound of footsteps outside my door or someone locking it or even it opening had me near tears and almost gave me a panic attack."
"I grew up anorexic, with depression and PTSD, and suicidal tendencies. I was a walking skeleton. 6 feet tall by 15 and bone thin. I couldn't eat, couldn't drink, couldn't sleep. I looked like a zombie. Children cried when I came close to them, adults turned away and people started to call me "scheletro", skeleton man, because of my tall and thin built." 
"I grew up with scars and the nightmares kept me up night after night, forcing me awake with a scream. They grew so bad that I started cutting and attempted suicide on more than one occasion." He spoke dreamily as if though he weren't part of the world anymore but part of something different entirely as he light caressed the pale scars on his wrist. "Once by pill over-dose and multiple times through cutting, but every time, every time someone had me taken to a hospital before I could die. Either Onofrio or Vincent or any of the guys, even Mom."
 A choked sob escaped Rosalie as she covered her mouth, tears flowing down as the pain engulfed her like a mother hugging her child. If she felt such agony just listening to it, she couldn't even begin to imagine the torment of the people who witnessed it all. 
"I was in and out of psychiatric institutes. Sometimes for the depression or PTSD, sometimes the suicidal tendencies and sometimes the Anorexia. Doctors came from across the world to help me. Most times I wasn't held there for longer than 6 months but had to attend daily therapy sessions. It took me years with professional help and medication to pull myself together, and on top of that, I was studying. I found that if I busied myself with studies, I felt calmer, so that's what I did...It would explain how I got into Harvard." He chuckled at himself, pulling a face at his own morbid insinuation. 
"You know...My back is littered with scars my father gave me by whipping me with his belt." He continued as Rosalie wanted him to stop. "Why do you think I sleep with a shirt on? Why I keep my back out of view? All of these scars are caused by him. I have never been in an altercation which gave me a permanent reminder. These all were caused by the abuse I suffered." 
"So you can't blame me if I grew up resenting the man." He spoke dejectedly. "Those years aren't my proudest or best years, but I made it through with a lot of help." 
"Apparently, after some years of being held captive, my father had supposedly 'repented' and returned to us. My mom couldn't file for a divorce because no lawyer was willing to take their case given that these were two mafia families. And they had been separated for 5 years before my mom eventually forgave him. I don't blame her, she loved that disgusting man and saw him as the man she fell in love with and did not see him as the vile coglione I did." 
"But it didn't matter because I went off to America to study, visited in the vacations, and attended my brother's wedding, the birth of Arsenio, and all other such can't-miss-occasions. But in my mind, I had settled in the US that is until I came home after getting my first engineering job in America and my brother and parents received an invite to the King's auction. The exact same auction from where I got your necklace. So, on the auction my family was going to, I set out a plan in motion to kill my father." 
Instantly, Rosalie's gaze snapped up as she noticed the dark look on his expression, his eyes dead and dark and fixated on a spot over her head. 
"The plan was simple. He would buy at the auction; my man would get to him to come to the back with the excuse of getting his items and shoot him, leaving him to be found by someone else." Arcangelo shrugged nonchalantly. "However...The plan didn't work out the way I wanted it to." His voice shook, a fresh torrent of tears welled in his eyes. 
"I-I-I instead of getting just him killed, I got everyone else killed. Onofrio, Ellie, Mom, everyone. They were all killed while I was at home playing with my nephew." He choked out, hanging his head in despair as the tears fell one after the other. 
After four years of having it repressed inside, he was breaking down before her eyes. The sobs which wracked through him were utterly raw and primitive as they engulfed his entire being with pain. Stumbling to her feet, Rosalie's wiped away her tears as she made her way to him. Pulling his hands away from his eyes, Rosalie hugged Arcangelo close to her, running her hands through his hair as he clung to her in desperation of trying to stay grounded and not losing his senses. 
She had no idea how long they stood holding one another as he sobbed into her neck, holding her tightly as he attempted to compose himself. 
Sniffling, he finally pulled away, Rosalie laying a hand against his cheek as he scrubbed away the tears. Stepping away he created distance between him and her as he lowered his head, stuffing his hands into his slack's pocket before making his way towards his bags. 
"I-I-I I know that you don't want to be with a murderer. Who would want to be with a monster that got his own family killed? Who would want that? The people who loved him most, dead at his own hands, that's morbid and sick and twisted and..." He spoke in one breath. "I'll leave," Arcangelo sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. 
"Just tell me, and I'll leave." 
"Arcangelo," Rosalie spoke softly as she wiped away her tears, making her way to him as she cupped his face into her hand, noticing how he winced as a lump formed in her throat. "I don't want you to leave. That is the last thing I want you do." She informed him, running her hand through his hair as she noticed the paleness of his skin, and the dimness of his bright blue eyes and the deeply etched frown which made him look vulnerable, vulnerable and alone. 
Reaching up, Rosalie traced the scar across his eye, pulling him down to place a kiss on the area, and then placing a kiss on his other eye before kissing both his cheeks and his forehead. Finally, pulling him close enough so that their lips were centimetres apart; his breath fanning across his face as their lips brushed with each word spoken next. 
"I'll be the Persephone to your Hades, your yin to your yang, and the hope to your despair" She spoke gently, rubbing her thumb over his cheekbone as the pain slowly ebbed away. "I will be that little light that gets into your cracked and dejected soul. Or better yet, I'll be yours forever."
 Arcangelo heart swelled in his chest as the emotions flowing inside him overwhelmed his senses, tears welling in his eyes again as his lower lip quivered with the sob rising in his throat and he couldn't understand why he can't stop crying. 
"But Arcangelo," Rosalie's voice cracked as she swallowed back the lump in her throat. "I can only do that if you let me. "Do I have your permission to do all that and more?" 
With quivering lips Arcangelo tried to get a word across, his throat betraying him by letting out a fragile sound of pain. Realising he couldn't rely on his words he resorted to actions by nodding. And just as he did, Rosalie closed the gap between them and pressed her lips to his, instantly feeling how his tense muscles uncoiled beneath her hands and he just...
...melted.