"My two sisters also died because of me," Slavvy said, his voice low, sharp, trembling with rage. Tears no longer fell; the fire in his chest burned hotter than anything else. "I started killing them one by one for everything they'd done to me. One day, I came back from the streets and found my two sisters shot dead. Their blood… all over the living room. There was a note. 'Like father, like son.'"
He swallowed hard. His hands trembled. His eyes burned red, and his chest heaved with something feral.
I couldn't find words. My throat tightened. I swallowed, my pulse thundering.
Slavvy looked at me, pain softening the fury in his gaze. "What's your story?"
I took a shaky breath, forcing my lips into a smile I didn't feel. "My dad left my mom and me when I was still in her womb. He promised he'd come back. He never did. My mom… she waited, hoping, praying… and we starved sometimes."
Slavvy's eyes darkened with a mix of anger and guilt, like he carried it all on his shoulders.
"She chose me over her family," I continued, voice trembling. "When she died, everything fell apart. My uncles… they… they tried to break me. They hated me. Physically, mentally… emotionally. They tried to kill me."
He flinched, horror plain on his face.
"They buried me alive," I whispered. "If my uncle hadn't come, I'd still be under that dirt, breathing soil, screaming and no one to hear me." My tears fell freely now. "They killed my grandma… right in front of me."
Slavvy's jaw clenched, his hands twitching. His anger rippled like a storm barely contained.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice raw. But I didn't let him finish I leaned forward and pressed my lips softly to his, not a kiss of lust, but of understanding. Of survival. Of shared pain.
"It doesn't matter now," I whispered. "I've made peace… with myself. I survived, Slavvy. Somehow, I survived."
He shook his head, bitter. "Look at me," he growled, voice rough, "I'm still… broken. Still running. Still haunted."
I reached out, gripping his hands like holding onto a lifeline. "I see you," I said. "Every scar. Every demon. Every shadow chasing you. And I'm not letting you face it alone."
His eyes met mine, searching, desperate. "Why… why stay? Why care?"
"Because I see you, Slavvy," I said, voice fierce but low. "I see the boy behind the anger. The man you want to be. The man who's been buried under rage for too long. I'm not afraid of you… not even your darkness. Not even your demons. I'm here. And I'm not leaving."
A flash of disbelief crossed his face, then pain. Then… something softer. Vulnerable. Fragile.
He swallowed, voice cracking. "I… I don't deserve this. No one's ever… stayed."
I pulled him into a tight embrace, arms around him like chains we could both break together. "You deserve it, Slavvy. You deserve someone who doesn't flinch at your rage, doesn't run from your past. Someone who will fight beside you, not behind you, not in front… with you."
His hands gripped me, shaking. "I've… I've ruined everything."
"You've survived," I whispered, pressing my forehead against his. "And surviving isn't nothing. I'll take the mess, the blood, the fire… everything. We'll fight through it. Together."
A single sob ripped from him. His body shook, trembling against mine. I held him tighter. "I'm not leaving," I said again. "Not now. Not ever."
He lifted his head slightly, eyes glistening, raw. "I—"
"Shh," I said, running my fingers through his hair. "No words. Just stay with me. Breathe. Let it out."
He let go not of me, not completely. His hands clung to my back, our bodies pressed together, silent communication in each heartbeat, each shaky breath.
And in that silence, amidst the chaos of our lives, I felt it: a connection deeper than words, rawer than pain. The kind of bond forged in fire and blood. The kind that could survive mafia wars, betrayals, and the ghosts of our pasts.
I whispered, "I don't care how broken you are, Slavvy. I don't care what you've done, or what's been done to you. I'm here. We'll make it through… together."
And in that moment, the world outside didn't exist. Only us. Only pain turned into something fierce, something beautiful. Only survival. Only love raw, real, untamed.