[028] sont les mots qui vont très bien ensemble
SPEED! ficlit done over g!talk for jiao_chan. Speed! for me equals approximately half an hour, so, haha point out any mistakes if you so desire. ;;;;
Title: Not Quite but Almost
Author: ME LOL
Rating: PG-13 :D
Series/Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Character/Pairings: Longchamp/Hana (YOU READ RIGHT)
Warnings: kissing and mafia talk, hur hur - DOES THAT REALLY BOTHER ANYONE
Summary: He's not a prince nor a hero in a romance novel. He's a mafia boss.
Dedications: tis a speed fic done for jiao_chan over g!talk. :)
And it’s not exactly where she imagined herself to be ten years ago, sitting in a foreign car next to a foreign man who spoke of things so horrendously inane and mind numbingly bizarre that his language too might as well have been straight, foriegn Italian rather than the perfect Japanese he ranted feverishly in. Dreams of a rich lover and of a lavish life have never been a far of goal in the corner of Hana’s mind, but - never in a million years would she suspect it to be like this.
Whatever this was.
Admittedly, Longchamp’s changed since Middle School, no longer decked out in punk rock Sid Vicious-esque attire - for there was certainly no chance in hell that Hana would ever become his ‘Nancy’ - and no longer going about things so carefree, so childishly. The car they were in was bulletproof, he had told her, and was not opposed to showing her the revolver in his pocket, loaded and ready to kill at his own volition; she could tell that he would (kill a man, another human being) by that look in his eye, the very same look that Ryohei sometimes had after long months away from home - hot and cold, fearless and merciless. A murderer’s eyes.
“I’m a Mafia boss,” he’d say through the smile on his handsome face, and finally, after ten years, she believed him. As hard it was at first, she accepted it and said nothing of it, dared not to.
But. But, at the same time he was the same guy essentially, tie loose and shirt unbuttoned to reveal that sloppy Mafia tattoo etched into his collar bone - ‘Tomaso’. Same laugh, same stupid smile, same stupid tone - Same. Like he was never born to be a crime boss, like they were still kids with the entire world still in front of them. I came, I saw, I conquered.
And he said this as he drove, squeezing her hand and feeling the diamond ring he bestowed to her on the palm of his hand, “I’ll give you the world, hahaha! I’ll give you the world, and hey, let’s go to Italy.”
Ignoring the little jump in her chest, she scoffed as she stared out the window, expression carefully trained to an apathetic leer. “Right now?”
“Yup!”
Hana withdrew her hand from his and turned to give him a withering glare. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe for you, yeah,” was his quick reply, and he threw his head back and roared with laughter, metal piercings shining from the red of the street lights across the streets.
And never in a hundred years would she see herself shrugging in quiet acceptance, sighing and kissing Longchamp back when he grabbed her by the shoulders and made out with her in his foreign car, waiting for a green light a few blocks away from her house.
(But she did anyway.)
Title: Not Quite but Almost
Author: ME LOL
Rating: PG-13 :D
Series/Fandom: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!
Character/Pairings: Longchamp/Hana (YOU READ RIGHT)
Warnings: kissing and mafia talk, hur hur - DOES THAT REALLY BOTHER ANYONE
Summary: He's not a prince nor a hero in a romance novel. He's a mafia boss.
Dedications: tis a speed fic done for jiao_chan over g!talk. :)
And it’s not exactly where she imagined herself to be ten years ago, sitting in a foreign car next to a foreign man who spoke of things so horrendously inane and mind numbingly bizarre that his language too might as well have been straight, foriegn Italian rather than the perfect Japanese he ranted feverishly in. Dreams of a rich lover and of a lavish life have never been a far of goal in the corner of Hana’s mind, but - never in a million years would she suspect it to be like this.
Whatever this was.
Admittedly, Longchamp’s changed since Middle School, no longer decked out in punk rock Sid Vicious-esque attire - for there was certainly no chance in hell that Hana would ever become his ‘Nancy’ - and no longer going about things so carefree, so childishly. The car they were in was bulletproof, he had told her, and was not opposed to showing her the revolver in his pocket, loaded and ready to kill at his own volition; she could tell that he would (kill a man, another human being) by that look in his eye, the very same look that Ryohei sometimes had after long months away from home - hot and cold, fearless and merciless. A murderer’s eyes.
“I’m a Mafia boss,” he’d say through the smile on his handsome face, and finally, after ten years, she believed him. As hard it was at first, she accepted it and said nothing of it, dared not to.
But. But, at the same time he was the same guy essentially, tie loose and shirt unbuttoned to reveal that sloppy Mafia tattoo etched into his collar bone - ‘Tomaso’. Same laugh, same stupid smile, same stupid tone - Same. Like he was never born to be a crime boss, like they were still kids with the entire world still in front of them. I came, I saw, I conquered.
And he said this as he drove, squeezing her hand and feeling the diamond ring he bestowed to her on the palm of his hand, “I’ll give you the world, hahaha! I’ll give you the world, and hey, let’s go to Italy.”
Ignoring the little jump in her chest, she scoffed as she stared out the window, expression carefully trained to an apathetic leer. “Right now?”
“Yup!”
Hana withdrew her hand from his and turned to give him a withering glare. “Are you insane?”
“Maybe for you, yeah,” was his quick reply, and he threw his head back and roared with laughter, metal piercings shining from the red of the street lights across the streets.
And never in a hundred years would she see herself shrugging in quiet acceptance, sighing and kissing Longchamp back when he grabbed her by the shoulders and made out with her in his foreign car, waiting for a green light a few blocks away from her house.
(But she did anyway.)