Warzone || Current Popov Safehouse

The melodic sound of the white babygrand piano filled the music room in this particular Safehouse. He sang along to the melody, letting the slightly saddened sound wash over him. He'd arrived before the rest of the Mob had, knowing where they'd go. Papa had already talked to him, but the man no longer had the intimidating effect he once did.

Nothing did.

When he was playing, he couldn't hear the whispers of the other members as they passed the entrance of the room. It was rare what he'd done, nearly impossible.

No one else had eluded the Mafia's blanket of security for four weeks. Especially when the mafia had been set on finding him. The only reason he'd been found is because he'd chosen to be. It was causing quite a stir.

"You touched my heart, you touched my soul... You changed my life and all my goals... Love is blind and that I knew when my heart was blinded by you. I've kissed your lips and held your head, shared your dreams and shared your bed. I know you well, I know your smell... I've been addicted to you..." He could hear them moving in the hallway outside, but he ignored them. He ignored everything.

He just played.

He just felt.

---

Song!

Ashleen knew he was there. It was like she could feel it the second she had walked into the building. Even if the whispers hadn't been there, reaching her ears within a matter of seconds, despite Franny's attempt to keep them away until he could break it himself. It didn't matter who told her anyways.

It would still hit her like a ton of bricks. She hadn't gone to him right away. She still wasn't sure she could do it at all.

Just to look at him would be....

Still, as she walked down the steps, meaning to head to the kitchen - she had ended her days of complete self exile in her room, but she still wandered through the halls of whatever safe house they were in like a ghost - she stopped, foot frozen in the air and turned towards the sound of the music.

Dark hair, charmed to a deep brown in a fit of emotion, tangling around her shoulders as it always did, she couldn't stop herself from migrating towards the sound. It was impossible.

She stopped in the door way, quite as if she wasn't there at all. She leaned against the wall and watched him, letting his song soak into her, the words hitting her like bullets everytime.

Still.

She didn't leave.

If he was there, then she'd be content with just.... standing; listening.

"Goodbye my lover... Goodbye my friend... You have been the one... You have been the one for me..." he sang softly, the sound of his sorrow transferring into his voice, into the notes he pressed out of the piano. He wouldn't let himself focus on anything other than the song, even though a part of him knew she was there. Knew she was... close.

"I'm so hollow baby... I'm so hollow... I'm so- I'm so- I'm so hollow..." His breathing hitched, and the song ended, slowly, torturously, and then he was just... there. Existing. Sitting on the piano bench and staring down at the keys. Molten gold filled his eyes and fell, a single clear tear falling and hitting the piano.

He was standing before it had touched the keys, turning toward the doorway. He hesitated for the briefest of seconds, his eyes flicking to her before they focused on the doorway. Stepping light, determined steps, he made his way to the door, fully intending to walk right by her. To not look at her again. To not- not-

He couldn't.

He froze directly beside her, close enough to touch her. To just reach out and-

Moving slowly, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, sure that this would be the last time he'd- he'd be able to-

His lips moved against hers, a slow, lingering, desperate kiss. A kiss to say all that he couldn't. Apologizing for- for- everything. For daring to touch her then, and daring to touch her now. For not being able to protect her on that night, for making her the way she was now.

His other hand had threaded through her hair and cupped the base of her skull to pull her closer. This plan - had it been a plan? - was backfiring. He didn't want to stop. He didn't want to leave her. He didn't want to...

Slowly, he pulled away, lingering for entirely too long to be merciful. He should have ripped himself away. He should have just stormed past her. Acted angry. Pretended not to care.

But he did care. So much. He'd never been able to hide it before, and this was no exception.

His eyes opened slowly, looking down at her, tears brimming again, though he tried to push them away. "I-I'm..." His arm around her waist pulled her closer without his permission, the one in her hair tilting her head back so he could plunder her lips more successfully. "S-so sorry, Wings..."

Then he was away from her, shoving past a random mafia member - Francesco, he'd know if he'd looked closer - and disappearing further into the house. He made his way through the maze of hallways, his pace accelerating until he was in a full out sprint, moving too fast to be stopped. It wasn't until he was at the top floor, six floors up, that he knew he'd have to stop. There was no way out.

Then he saw the open window.

With a diving leap he was through, weightless for the most exhilarating of moments before his arms caught on the branches of the tree that only reached to the third floor. He waited for the guard to pass before dropping down, slipping past all three rounds of them before disappearing into the shadows once more.

He would never accept that the wetness on his face was more than the pouring rain.

Her eyes never wavered from him, watching him everymoment. Her through hurt with the effort she was putting into keep the lump at bay, not to cry. Not again. Hadn't she wasted enough tears on this whole thing? They hadn't helped before, and would they really help now?

Still, as she watched him go, sure he was going to walk right past her, she could help the tiniest hiccup of a sob that escaped her.

And then she was kissing him. She wasn't even sure how that had happened, who had started it, what was...

But he was there, so glorously there, she just needed him to-to-to...

His words, his gaze seemed to shatter her heart further than it already had been.

"N-no," she shook her head. How could he be sorry. She was the one who was... was... broken, flawed. She was the one who chased him away. "T-tre I-I-"

But whatever she was trying to stutter came out far too late, he was already gone, cold air moving in to replace the spots that he had previously being touched. Her hands shook as she gave up, tears spilling freely.

In the hallway, Francesco looked between the two children, concern and confusion as he watched one fall apart, and the other run away - presumable to do much of the same. After on half attempt to call the boy back, he knew he'd never catch him now.

Instead he moved to catch the girl before she slid to the ground. The girl who continued to sob and flinch away from his touch, moving to keep distance between them.

"Shh, Girlie," he muttered, looking for all the world helpless.

"He's gone," she muttered between sobs, curling her feet up to her chest. "He's not coming back, is he? Not to... to me."

The truth was sinking in; she was alone. So very, very alone.