When my eyes finally decide to flutter open, I'm happily surprised to find the curtains closed so the light isn't shining in my eyes.

But I don't find the big mafia boss laying beside me.

I frown as I eye his empty side of the bed, which isn't much space, but grin when I see that I take up the majority of bed space. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd left to go sleep somewhere else.

Sighing, I turn over to my other side in time to see the door open, revealing Marcello, freshly out of the shower.

I shamelessly stare at his naked torso, practically drooling.

After moments of this, my eyes travel up to find the face of a smirking Marcello.

Don't say it.

Don't say it.

Don't you dare say the most cliche line in this whole world.

Don't you even think about it..

"Like what you see?" He asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Annndd he said it." I mutter to myself. I thought he was above that.

"Huh?" He asks, his cocky demeanor changing to one of confusion.

"Nothing." I roll my eyes, struggling to escape the nest of blankets I've managed to tangle myself in as I roll out of bed. "I'm hungry. What's for breakfast?"

"Whatever you want." Marcello says smoothly, causing me to scowl and look back in time to see a smirk etch it's way onto his face.

"Maybe your fingers on a silver platter. Yeah, that sounds hecka appetizing." I muse, tapping my chin in thought.

His smirk drops as his eyebrows raise, "Your cannibalistic urges for me are flattering, but I prefer bacon and eggs."

"And French Toast?" I ask hopefully.

"We're in Italy, though." He jokes with a scoff.

(Sorry for the bad joke lol, and I'm also sorry if you don't get it. 🐧)

"Fine, how about a remix. Italian Toast." I wiggle my eyebrows playfully.

"Now that's more like it. French Toast Italian style." He grins, and the sight almost takes my breath away.

Almost.

"Yess!" I squeal, darting out of the room with Marcello hot on my tail.

As we run through the wide hall, our footsteps echo throughout the quiet house. If people were sleeping before, they sure as hecka weren't now. Marcello passes me, causing me to narrow my eyes at him.

"Challenge accepted." I mutter under my breath, speeding up a bit, edging closer to him.

My lungs begin to struggle pulling oxygen in, so I make a last ditch effort and leap forward, barely making it onto Marcello's back.

He only slows down a little bit, but recovers almost instantly. I can't help but to let out a small squeal as he continues running.

Once we arrive to the kitchen, he allows me to slide off of his back, and we immediately get to work on our 'Italian Toast,' which turns out to be plain French Toast, but adding crumbled bacon to the mix for a special touch.

I glare at Marcello, catching him in the act of sneaking a piece of bacon from the plate. He gives me a sheepish look, offering me the rest of the piece. I take it slowly, my eyes still narrowed, but then quickly bring it to my mouth and munch on it, focusing back on the French Toast.

I jump slightly at the feeling of hands sneaking around my waist. I glance over my shoulder with a glare to see Marcello smirking.

"I didn't think the big, bad mafia boss would be so clingy." I tease, his smirk dropping and mine growing.

"There's nothing wrong with being clingy." He defends, removing his hands from my waist and crossing them over his chest.

"I didn't say there was. I was just saying, for such a scary man, you sure are a softy." I point out, a teasing smile on my face.

"I'm soft?" He asks, tilting his head, seeming genuinely bewildered.

"Kind of, yeah." I nod, "But I like it, so don't go changing that."

"Well, I'll always be soft for you." His voice comes out gentle and reassuring.

(A/N: ALL Y'ALL DIRTY MINDED PPL ARE NASTY. I JUST GOT DONE READING THROUGH THE COMMENTS AND ALMOST HAD A STROKE AT ALL THE 'THAT'S GONNA BE BAD WHEN YALLS IN BED' COMMENTS. BE. ASHAMED. OF. YOURSELVES. BE VERY ASHAMED. -_-

Edit made on 12/7??/19. I forgot what day it is. It's either the 7th or 8th. Idk anymore. BUT I DO KNOW IT'S DECEMBER SOMETHING SO GIMME SOME CREDIT HERE).

In any other situation, that'd make me cringe, because this amount affection is ew, but I almost collapse, due to the loss of my knees.

"Wow, when did you get all sweet?" I ask, meaning for my voice to come out strong and mocking, but it wavers, betraying me.

Marcello's eyes glint as a smile graces his lips, "I didn't know telling the truth would be sweet."

"Slick. Real slick." I give him a small laugh, managing to get my emotions under control as I turn around, only to find a burning piece of French Toast.

"Aw, shiz." I mutter, taking the pan off the burner and turning it off.

"Look what you made me do!" I turn to Marcello in exasperation.

"What? Me? I had no part in the incineration of that toast." He raises his hands in defense.

"Yes you did!" I accuse.

"How? I was just standing here!" He exclaims.

"And distracting me." I point out, crossing my arms over my chest, pinning him with a glare.

"What, that makes no sen-"

Marcello's stubborn voice is cut off by the sound of a loud boom, followed by sounds of shelves tumbling over.

"Go up to our room and don't come out until I come up for you." He orders, his tone of voice no longer playful and childish, but demanding and intimidating.

Unlike last time, I don't listen, instead, opting for following him.