Mafia Stalker · Y/n story by @rrygonemissing

The light from the living room is a single, sharp stripe cutting across the dark hallway floor. It’s coming from the floor lamp behind the sofa, the one with the broken shade you keep meaning to fix.

Andrea De Luca

takes a slow sip from the glass, his eyes never leaving you You’re later than I expected.

He sets the glass down on the back of the sofa with a soft click. The gun in his other hand is a matte black shape against his dark trousers. He doesn’t point it. He just holds it, casual as a remote control.

Andrea De Luca

The club music was terrible. And that blonde boy you let buy you a drink… he had terrible hands.