"Marcello." I say in warning at his hand around my throat.

He cocks his head, amusement swimming in his eyes, but he doesn't respond.

I remember when we'd first met and he had his hand around my throat, but somehow this feels different.

I have no doubt in my mind that he won't hurt me. He just wants me to be sacred of him. But I refuse to give him that. I refuse to be like everyone else, and bow down at his feet.

The more I get to know him, the more I understand his pain. The only way he deals with the sadness is anger. And he takes it out on other people.

I know he's hurt and traumatized by everything he's seen, but I don't understand why he keeps holding onto that. Why he keeps fueling his anger.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that his mother's murderers are still alive.

I stare into Marcello's eyes, but don't see pain nor anger. What I see goes much more deep, but refuse to decipher the emotion just yet.

His eyes take me back to all the times we've shared.

Like a slideshow, images of Marcello flash before my eyes.

When we first met and he threatened me.

When he forced me to go to the museum with him, then took me to dinner after.

Then when he'd dragged me to his house and left me alone with Marie and Lucy.

When he let me sleep in his bed, and even when he took me to that picnic and left me.

Waking up beside him the next morning, despite me still being angry with him. Then shortly after, he'd told me about his mother.

All these reminders of Marcello seem to keep me uprooted at the moment.

I used to claim to love Derek, but how I feel for Marcello is different.

It's not as shallow, or forced.

It wasn't expected, or uncomfortable.

It's less of a have-to and more of a want-to.

I'm confused at my feelings toward Marcello, but I see them accurately reflecting back to me when I look into his eyes.

Love.

No, it can't be that. It's too fast. Too sudden.

We still barely know each other.

Is it possible to fall in love within the span of three and a half weeks?

Yes.

Though I try to convince myself that it's too sudden, it doesn't feel rushed at all.

And the longer I look at Marcello, the more I accept the fact that I am, indeed, in love with him.

I'm snapped back to reality when Marcello loosens his hand from my throat, and I realize I must've been staring at him for a solid five minutes having my epiphany.

Way to make myself look like an idiot.

But looking at Marcello, I can tell he doesn't mind, because he seems to be in a daze too.

I take advantage of how close we are, and take the opportunity to study his features.

His cropped eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, making me want to giggle, but I refrain. I want to trace his high cheekbones in the process, but stifle that urge as well. His strong jaw is set at a sharp angle that gives the impression of being carved out of marble, along with every single other defined feature of his.

Is it possible for someone to be this perfect?

No. It's most definitely not.

I watch in awe as his lips prepare to move, and zoom in on his cute dimple.

"I love you." He says with no hesitation.

It takes a moment for my hazy mind to catch up. I'm still in a daze, mesmerized by his perfections, and the deep dimple set in his cheek.

I blink, "What?"

"Don't make me say it again." He says, sounding frustrated, but I catch the hint of embarassment in his voice as he runs his hand through his hair and takes a step back.

I grab a hold of the neckline to his shirt and yank him back within close proximity of me.

"What if I want you to say it again?" I ask, studying his eyes.

"Isn't it enough that I said it once?" He scowls, trying to pull back, but I restrain him from doing so.

"Nope. Just say it one more time and I'll be satisfied." I state bravely, feeling a boost of confidence I didn't have earlier.

He glances down, then looks back up into my eyes, allowing me to spot the vulnerability and uncertainty he feels.

"I love you." He says, putting more strength in his voice than he looks to have.

I grin, pulling him in for a kiss, but right before I do, I say the one phrase that will seal my fate, "I love you too, big, bad mafia boss."