- 2 days ago
Step into a world of passion, power, and drama. On this channel, you’ll find captivating billionaire romances, intense mafia sagas, and heartfelt love stories that will keep you hooked until the very last word.
Whether it’s the allure of wealth, the danger of the underworld, or the beauty of love against all odds — Ashley’s Stories brings you tales that are bold, emotional, and unforgettable.
💖 Subscribe now and lose yourself in stories of desire, danger, and destiny.
Whether it’s the allure of wealth, the danger of the underworld, or the beauty of love against all odds — Ashley’s Stories brings you tales that are bold, emotional, and unforgettable.
💖 Subscribe now and lose yourself in stories of desire, danger, and destiny.
Category
🎥
Short filmTranscript
00:00The sun is violent today. It doesn't just shine. It strikes the white pavement of the plaza and
00:07bounces back up, blinding and bleaching the color out of everything. I'm squinting behind cheap
00:13sunglasses, trying to make myself small, trying to be just another tourist lost in the midday
00:19swelter. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm not supposed to be anywhere. I'm a ghost in a sundress,
00:26drifting through the heat, always waiting for the past to grab me by the throat.
00:32But the noise stops me. It cuts through the diesel roar of the traffic and the chatter of the market
00:38stalls, a jagged, terrifying wail. It's the sound of pure abandonment. I turn, my heart hammering a
00:47frantic rhythm against my ribs. There, perched precariously on a stone bench near the fountain,
00:53is a bundle, a car seat, abandoned in the open, baking under the relentless glare. The crowd flows
01:01around it like a river around a stone, indifferent, selfish, moving too fast to care. I shouldn't stop.
01:09Stopping means being seen. Being seen means danger. But the baby screams again, a high gasping sound
01:17that tear something open inside my chest. Before my brain can calculate the risk, my legs are moving.
01:25I'm pushing through the sweaty bodies, ignoring the elbows and the curses, until I reach the bench.
01:31Hey, I wister, my voice cracking. Hey, you're okay. I unbuckle him. He's soaking wet with sweat,
01:39his face blotchy and red. Instinct cakes over. A buried, ancient thing I didn't know I possessed.
01:46I pull him against my shoulder, tucking his sweaty head under my chin, shielding him from the punishing
01:52sun. He's shaking, his tiny fists bunching into my dress. He won't stop crying. He's hysterical,
02:00choking on his own panic. Shh, I breathe, rocking on my heels. The world is too loud. The horns,
02:08the shouting, the heat. I need a shield. I need a sound to push back the chaos. Without thinking,
02:16I start to hum. It's not a song you hear on the radio. It's a melody made of smoke and old grief,
02:22a tune that has lived in the marrow of my bones since I was a child. I don't even know what language
02:28the lyrics are in. Only the shape of the vowels my mother used to whisper before she vanished.
02:33It's a haunting, minor key thing, sounding strange and wintry in this blinding summer square.
02:41Sleep, little wolf. The ice is thin. I hum the notes, the vibration buzzing against the infant's
02:48cheek. Miraculously, the baby stiffens, then melts. The screaming cuts off into a wet hiccup.
02:55His breathing sinks with the rise and fall of my chest. For a second, just one second. I feel safe.
03:04I feel anchored. Then the air changes. It's not a temperature drop. It's a pressure shift.
03:11The hair on my arms stands up, an electric warning that has nothing to do with the static in the air.
03:17The crowd, usually so oblivious, is parting. They are scattering like fish before a shark.
03:24I look up, shielding the baby's head with my hand. Ten feet away, a man is frozen mid-stride.
03:32He is devastating to look at. Sharp jaw, tailored gray suit that costs more than my life,
03:38and an aura of controlled violence that makes the bright sunlight feel cold. He is surrounded by
03:44three other men, hulking mountains of muscle, but I don't look at them. I can only look at him.
03:51He isn't looking at the crowd. He isn't looking at the plaza. He is staring at me with an intensity
03:58that makes my knees water. His eyes are dark, dangerous, and wide with something that looks
04:04terrifyingly like recognition. The silence between us stretches, taut as a wire about to snap.
04:12He takes a step forward, and his security detail flinches, confused. He doesn't care. He walks right
04:19up to me, invading my space, smelling of expensive cologne and gunpowder. My breath catches. I clutch the
04:27baby tighter, prepared to run, prepared to scream. But he doesn't reach for a weapon. He reaches out,
04:34his hand hovering, trembling in the air near my face, as if he's seeing a ghost. His voice is low,
04:42a rough scrape of velvet over gravel, shaking with a mixture of awe and lethal suspicion.
04:49Where, he demands, his eyes locking onto mine, did you learn that song?
04:54I expected damp concrete and flickering bulbs. I expected the metallic tang of blood and rust.
05:03Instead, the elevator doors slide open to blind me with a thousand watts of pure, aggressive sunshine.
05:11The space is vast, terrified by its own openness. It's a penthouse, but it feels more like an observation
05:19deck at the edage of the world. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls wrap around the entire room, letting the
05:26Los Angeles skyline bleed in. The sun is high and cruel, reflecting off the white marble floors and
05:34the pristine, cream-colored furniture. There are no shadows here. There is nowhere to hide.
05:41I tighten my grip on the baby. He's finally asleep, a warm, heavy weight against my chest,
05:47his tear-streaked cheek pressed into the hollow of my collarbone. I feel like a stain in this room.
05:54My jeans are dusty, my hair is a mess, and my heart is hammering a rhythm that feels loud enough to
06:01crack the glass. Sit, Luca says. It's not a bark. It's not a threat. It's a request that carries the
06:09weight of a command simply because of who is speaking. He stands by the far window, his silhouette cut
06:16sharp against the blinding blue sky. He's removed his suit jacket, rolling the sleeves of his white
06:22dress shirt up to his forearms. He doesn't look like a mob boss right now. He looks like a man
06:28exhausted by his own existence. I sit on the edge of a low, white sofa, my knees pressed together.
06:35I didn't hurt him, I whisper, my voice cracking. I found him crying. That's all.
06:42Luca turns. The light catches the amber flecks in his eyes, illuminating a scrutiny that feels
06:49invasive. He walks toward me, his steps silent on the marble. He stops three feet away, close enough
06:56for me to smell the sandalwood and expensive tobacco clinging to him, far enough that I don't bolt.
07:02I know you didn't hurt him, he says, his voice low, vibrating in the quiet air. If you had,
07:10you wouldn't be breathing this air. You'd be part of the foundation of a parking garage.
07:15I swallow hard, the dryness in my throat painful. Then let me go. I can't. He crouches down,
07:24bringing himself to my eye level. The movement is fluid, predatory, but restrained. He isn't
07:30looking at the baby anymore. He is looking at my mouth, then my eyes, dissecting me layer by layer.
07:38Because of the song. My pulse stutters. It's just a lullaby. No, he corrects me softly. It isn't.
07:47It's not twinkle twinkle little star. It's not something you hear on the radio or pick up at daycare.
07:53He leans in closer, and the air between us charges with a frantic, static energy. The sunlight feels
08:01hotter now, baking the skin of my arms. My mother wrote that melody, Luca says, the words dropping
08:08like stones into deep water. She wrote it on a piano that no one else was allowed to touch.
08:15She never recorded it. She never wrote down the sheet music. She only sang it to me. And she only
08:22sang it inside the walls of this family. He reaches out. For a second, I think he's going to grab my
08:29throat. Instead, his knuckles graze my cheek, a touch so light it burns. She died ten years ago,
08:37he whispers, his eyes searching mine for a lie, for a trap, for a ghost. So tell me,
08:45little songbird, how do you have her soul trapped in your throat?
08:49The sunlight here is aggressive. It bounces off the white marble floors and the floor-to-ceiling
08:55glass walls, flooding every corner of this coastal fortress with a blinding, sterile brilliance.
09:02There are no shadows to hide in, no dark corners to catch my breath,
09:06just endless azure oceans stretching out beyond the cliffs and the oppressive perfection of Luca's
09:13world. I pace the length of the nursery, the baby finally heavy and asleep against my chest.
09:19His little fist is curled into the fabric of my shirt, a tiny anchor keeping me from floating away
09:25into full-blown panic. They call this guest hospitality, but I know what it is. I see the men
09:32standing at the edge of the manicured lawn, their linen suits crisp, their sunglasses reflecting the
09:38glare, hiding eyes that watch every move I make. This isn't a home. It's a golden cage,
09:45polished until it gleams. He likes the garden, a voice says, deep and vibrating with a roughness that
09:52scrapes against my nerves. I spin around, careful not to jostle the sleeping infant. Luca is leaning
09:59against the doorframe, looking less like a monster and more like a man, exhausted by his own existence.
10:06He's traded the suit jacket for a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing forearms
10:11corded with muscle and ink. The sunlight catches the sharp angle of his jaw, making him look
10:17devastatingly human. He likes the quiet, I correct softly, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against
10:24my ribs. Something this place seems to lack. Luca pushes off the doorframe and steps inside.
10:30The room suddenly feels smaller, consumed by his gravity. He smells like sea salt, expensive tobacco,
10:38and danger. He doesn't stop until he's standing right in front of me, close enough that I can see
10:44the flecks of gold in his dark irises. He reaches out, his hand hovering over the baby's head, before he
10:51gently, almost reverently, tucks the blanket tighter. There is no quiet in my world, he murmurs,
10:58his gaze shifting from the child to me. The intensity of his stare burns hotter than the midday sun outside.
11:05Noise is the price of power. It's always screaming, screeching metal, shouting men, the ringing in my ears
11:13that never stops. I should back away. My survival instinct is screaming at me to run,
11:19to put distance between us, but my feet are rooted to the plush carpet. Why are you keeping me here,
11:26Luca? The baby is safe. You have nannies, doctors, guards. You don't need me. Don't I?
11:33He steps closer, invading my personal space until the heat of his body radiates onto mine. He isn't
11:40looking at me like a prisoner anymore. He looks at me like a starving man, looks at a feast he knows
11:46is poisoned. I walked past this room an hour ago, he confesses, his voice dropping to a rough whisper
11:53that feels like a secret dragged out of the dark. My head was pounding, the usual chaos. Then I heard
12:00you humming that melody again. Just three notes, and the noise inside my skull? It stopped. He reaches
12:07out, his rough thumb tracing the line of my jaw, sending a jolt of electricity straight down my spine.
12:14It's a terrified thrill, addictive and sharp. You're not just a nanny, he says, and the raw
12:22vulnerability in his tone terrifies me more than his gun ever could. You're the only silence I've
12:29found in ten years, and I'm not letting you walk out that door. The sunlight out here is aggressive.
12:36It's not the soft, romantic glow of a sunrise. It's a blinding, white gold that bounces off the ocean
12:43and slams into the windshield. We're tearing down the coastline, the jagged cliffs dropping into
12:49turquoise water on my right, and everything feels overexposed. There are no shadows to hide in. I feel
12:57peeled open, like fruit left out in the heat too long. Luca drives with one hand on the wheel,
13:03his grip loose but controlled. He's wearing sunglasses, hiding those eyes that usually dissect me,
13:10but I can feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. It's hotter than the sun beating down on the
13:16black leather seats. You didn't answer me back there, he says. His voice is low, fighting the wind
13:22rushing through the cracked windows. I pull my knees up to my chest, staring at the blurred guardrail
13:28whipping past us. I didn't think you were actually asking. I don't make small talk to Soro. The nickname
13:36sounds like a threat and a caress all at once. My heart does a traitorous little flip. I look at the
13:43baby seat in the back, empty now, since we dropped the little one at the safe house with the nanny, but the
13:49echo of that cry still rings in my ears, the cry that made me sing. I didn't learn it, I confess,
13:56the words tasting like ash. Not really. It's just furniture in my head. It's been there as long as I
14:04can remember. Luca shifts gears, the engine growing under us. A song like that isn't pop radio. It's old,
14:13ancient. It's from the system, I say, and the admission makes me feel small. Foster care, between
14:20the houses that smelled like bleach and the ones that smelled like stale beer. I don't remember a
14:26other. I just remember the melody. I used to hum it when the shouting got too loud. It was the only
14:32thing that belonged to me. The car swerves. It's subtle, a micro-adjustment of the wheel, but at 80
14:39miles an hour, I feel it in my gut. Luca's jaw is locked so tight a muscle ticks beneath his stubble.
14:46He pulls the car onto the gravel shoulder so fast, gravel sprays up like gunfire. The sudden stop
14:53throws me forward against the seatbelt. Dust clouds the pristine view of the ocean.
14:58What are you…
14:59Look at me, he commands. He rips his sunglasses off. His eyes aren't cold anymore. They look
15:06shattered, like someone threw a rock through a stained glass window. He reaches across the console,
15:12his hand hovering near my face before his thumb brushes my cheekbone. His skin is rough,
15:18calloused from violence, but his touch is terrifyingly gentle. He whispers,
15:23the sound rough, like he's swallowing glass. My mother wrote it. She wrote it for a sister I never
15:30got to meet because she was taken. The air leaves the car. The sound of the ocean crashing below us
15:37roars in the silence, but I can't hear it over the blood rushing in my ears. I stare at him,
15:43trying to find the lie, but there's only raw, bleeding truth. I didn't learn it in foster care,
15:50I breathe out, the realization hitting me like a physical blow. Luca leans in, his forehead resting
15:57against mine, closing the distance between captor and captive until we're just two jagged edges
16:03trying to fit together. You didn't just find that baby, did you? He murmurs, his breath hot against
16:11my lips. You came back to the world that broke us both. The midday sun is a liar. It bleaches the
16:19world white, convincing you that nothing can hide, that every corner is illuminated and safe. But I
16:25know better. I know that shadows don't disappear at noon. They just crawl inside people. We are walking
16:33through the open-air market, a chaotic river of noise and color. The air smells like scorched sugar,
16:39basil, and the briny tang of the ocean just a few miles away. It's blindingly bright, the kind of day
16:46that demands happiness. Luca is walking beside me, one hand pushing the stroller, the other resting
16:52casually in the pocket of his slacks. He doesn't look like a monster today. He looks like a father. He
16:59looks like a man who sleeps through the night. You're quiet, Luca says, his voice low, vibrating through
17:05the noise of hawkers, selling ceramics and lemons. He glances at me over the rim of his sunglasses.
17:11You don't like the crowds? I like them fine, I lie. It's just strange, being out, like normal people.
17:19We are normal people, he says, though the corner of his mouth quirks up, acknowledging the absurdity
17:25of the statement. I look down at the baby. He's awake, his wide, dark eyes tracking a string of
17:31colorful flags whipping in the wind. It's been weeks since that night I found him wailing in the alley,
17:37weeks since I hummed that melody that made Luca freeze and lower his gun. The baby, Leo, we call
17:44him now, is the anchor tethering us together. But looking at him, I feel that familiar ache in my
17:50chest. It's a terrifying kind of love, the kind that rips your skin off and leaves you raw to the
17:56elements. I want to get him a hat, I say, distracting myself. That sun is too strong.
18:02We stop near a stall draped in linen and straw. Luca steps back to let me browse, his posture
18:08shifting almost imperceptibly. He's relaxed, but his eyes are constantly scanning. It's a habit I've
18:15started to mimic. I pick up a tiny bucket hat, turning it over in my hands, but my focus drifts past
18:21the fabric. The crowd is a blur of tourists and locals, a wash of bright pastels. But then the rhythm
18:29breaks. Thirty feet away, near a fountain, splashing sparkling water into the air, a man stops. He isn't
18:36looking at the fruit. He isn't looking at the view. He is looking at Luca. He's wearing a light gray suit,
18:43blending in, but his hand moves inside his jacket. It's not the motion that stops my heart. It's the
18:49glint, a flash of silver, sharp and cold against the warmth of the sun. It's not a wallet. It's not
18:56a phone. Time seems to liquefy. I look at Luca, who is distracted by a vendor offering him a slice
19:03of melon. He doesn't see it. He's one second too slow. The realization hits me with the force of a
19:10physical blow. They aren't here for Luca. The man's angle is wrong. The barrel isn't leveling at the
19:16boss's chest. It's drifting lower. Toward the stroller. Toward Leo. The baby, Leo, we call him
19:24now, was the bait then, and he's a target now. I don't think. I don't calculate. The survival
19:31instinct that kept me alive on the streets vanishes, replaced by something fiercer, something
19:36reckless. Luca! I scream. Not a warning, but a command. I throw myself forward, not away from the
19:44danger, but directly across the front of the stroller. My body crashes into the handle,
19:50spinning the carriage violently to the left just as the air cracks. Pop! A ceramic vase on the stall
19:57behind us explodes, sending shards of pottery raining down like hail. The noise of the market
20:03dies, strangled by the gunshot, replaced instantly by screams. I hit the pavement hard, scraping my palms,
20:11my body draped over the baby like a human shield. My breath is coming in ragged gasps,
20:17my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I wait for the pain, for the heat of a bullet,
20:23but there is only the crying of the child beneath me. Then, silence. A heavy, terrifying silence,
20:31right next to my ear. I look up. Luca is standing over me. The sunglasses are gone. The normal man is
20:38gone. In his hand, a black pistol is already drawn, smoke curling lazily into the bright sunlight.
20:45He hasn't fired yet, but the look on his face is pure, unadulterated ruin. He isn't looking at the
20:52shooter anymore. He's looking at me, sprawled over the child that isn't mine, bleeding from my palms,
20:59my eyes wide with terror. He sees it. He sees that I didn't run. Get up, he whispers, his voice
21:07trembling with a rage that could burn this whole city to ash. You stay behind me. You don't move.
21:14But as I scramble to my feet, clutching the handle of the stroller, I see the truth in his eyes.
21:19It's not just gratitude. It's fear. He realizes now what I just realized. I'm not just an employee
21:27anymore. And in his world, that makes me the most dangerous thing of all. A weakness.
21:34The sun isn't a spotlight. It's a judgment. It beats down on the white stone of the terrace,
21:40bouncing off the sleek tiles until my vision swims in a haze of gold and heat. There is nowhere to
21:47hide here. No shadows to slip into. No corners to crouch behind. Just the blinding Mediterranean sky,
21:54the sheer drop to the rocky coast behind me, and Marco standing in front of me.
22:00Marco. Luca's right hand. The man who poured my coffee this morning. Now he's sweating through
22:07his linen shirt, his pistol leveled at my chest. His hand is shaking, violent tremors that make the
22:14barrel dance. He's terrified, and that makes him more dangerous than a cold-blooded killer.
22:19A terrified man pulls the trigger by accident. The baby, his baby, Luca's blood, shifts in my arms,
22:28drawing a breath to scream. If he screams, Marco panics. If Marco panics, we die.
22:35Shut him up, Marco hisses, his eyes darting to the glass doors of the villa. Put him down and back away,
22:42or I swear to God. I clutch the child tighter, pressing his small, hot face into the crook of my neck.
22:49I can feel the erratic thrum of his tiny heart against my own ribs. We are one terrified organism.
22:57No, I say. My voice sounds strange in the open air. Too calm, detached. I'm not putting him down.
23:05Marco takes a step forward. The gun steadies. I need a shield. I need a wall. But all I have is a melody.
23:13I start to hum. It's a vibration in my throat, deep and resonant, intended to rattle through the baby's
23:20skull and soothe the fear. But I lock my eyes on Marco. I make it a weapon. Sleep, little wolf.
23:27The day is long. I sing the words, but I strip them of their sweetness. I push my voice out, clear and
23:35piercing, cutting through the heavy afternoon heat. It's haunting. A minor key warning wrapped
23:41in velvet. Marco blinks, his brow furrowing. The dissonance between the gun in his hand and the
23:47song in the air short-circuits his adrenaline. He freezes, caught in the surrealism of the moment.
23:54The shadows dance where you belong. I step toward him. It's insane. It's suicide. But I keep singing,
24:01my eyes boring into his, forcing him to see me not as a target, but as a woman holding a life.
24:08For three seconds, I control the world. Then, the glass doors behind him explode. It's not a sound.
24:17It's a physical blow. Shards of safety glass erupt outward like a shower of diamonds catching the
24:23sunlight, glittering and lethal. Luca is there. He isn't lurking in the dark. He steps right into
24:31the blaze of the sun, a figure carved from fury and light. He doesn't look like a man. He looks
24:38like a catastrophe. Marco spins around, but he's fighting gravity while Luca is rewriting the laws
24:44of physics. Luca moves with a terrifying, fluid grace, closing the distance before Marco can even
24:51raise his arm. I see the flash of a knife, bright silver against the blue sky. And then, I spin away.
24:58I bury my face in the baby's blanket. I cover his ears with my hands, singing louder, desperate to
25:05drown out the wet, sickening thud of a body hitting the tiles. I sing to cover the sound of a life
25:11ending. Rest your head. The war is gone. Silence rushes back in, heavier than before. The heat feels
25:19oppressive now, sticky and thick. I'm shaking so hard my teeth chatter. But then, hands are on me.
25:27Large, searingly sought hands, gripping my shoulders. I flinch, gasping, but the touch turns gentle
25:34instantly. Possessive. I look up. Luca is breathless, his chest heaving against his tailored suit. There is
25:42blood on his white cuff. A stark, violent, crimson splash. But his face is clean. His eyes, usually so
25:50guarded, are wide and wrecked, scanning me for holes, for blood, for anything broken. Did he touch you?
25:57His voice is a low growl, barely human. I shake my head, unable to speak. The song has died in my throat.
26:05He looks at the baby, then back at me, and the mask falls completely. He doesn't look like a boss. He looks like
26:13a man who just watched his entire universe dangle over a cliff. He pulls us both into him, hard. It's not a hug.
26:21It's a collision. He buries his face in my hair, inhaling sharply, shaking with the aftershocks of his own rage.
26:28I heard you, he whispers against my temple, his lips brushing my skin. It looks like war paint. It looks
26:35like a claim. Where did you learn to weaponize your voice like that, he asks, his bays dropping to my
26:41lips. Because you just bought me the second I needed to save our lives. The morning isn't gentle. It's an
26:49interrogation. The sun blasts through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the safe house, exposing everything we
26:56tried to hide in the dark. It lights up the shattered glass on the Persian rug, making the shards glitter
27:03like diamonds. It illuminates the overturned chair, the scuff marks on the pristine walls,
27:08and the dried blood on Dante's white dress shirt, turning the fabric into a map of everything we
27:14survived last night. He's sitting on the edge of the mattress, elbows on his knees, head hanging low.
27:21The monster the city fears is just a man trying to remember how to breathe. The baby is gone, safe,
27:30whisked away to the countryside with a nanny who doesn't ask questions. But the silence she left
27:35behind is deafening. It's just us now. Just the wreckage and the blinding white light of survival.
27:42I don't look away. I can't. I walk across the room, my bare feet silent on the cold hardwood. Every step
27:51feels like a decision. A final one. There's no running anymore. I tried running, and it only led me
27:58straight into the arms of the danger I was fleeing, and somehow that danger became the only place I felt
28:04safe. I see the gun sitting on the nightstand, cold and black against the light wood, but for the first
28:11time, it doesn't make my stomach turn. It's just an object. He is just a man. Don't, he rasps, not
28:20looking up. His voice is wrecked, like he swallowed smoke and glass. Don't look at me like that, Elena.
28:27The sun, it shows too much. I'm too dirty for this light. It shows exactly enough, I whisper, my voice
28:36catching in my throat. I kneel between his legs. The proximity is electric, a hum that vibrates in
28:43my teeth. He smells like copper, gunpowder, and that expensive sandalwood cologne that used to
28:49intimidate me. Now, that scent just makes my heart ache with a terrifying tenderness. I reach out, taking
28:57his hand. His knuckles are split, raw, and angry from the fight that bought us this morning. He tries to
29:04pull back, his instinct to protect me from his own violence kicking in, but I hold on tighter. I press
29:11my palm against the rough skin of his, threading our fingers together. We can't wash this off, Dante,
29:17I say, the realization settling in my chest like a heavy, warm stone. He finally lifts his head. His eyes
29:25are dark, bruised with exhaustion, but the intensity in them burns. He looks at me like a ghost, or maybe a
29:33miracle he doesn't believe he deserves. He searches my face for fear, for judgment, but all I give him
29:41is the truth. I destroyed everything to keep you safe, he murmurs, his thumb grazing my wrist,
29:49checking my pulse like he needs proof I'm still here. And look at you. You're still surrounded by
29:55wreckage. I'm not looking at the wreckage, I tell him, leaning in until I can feel the heat
30:01radiating off him. I'm looking at the builder. He closes his eyes, a violent shudder running through
30:08his broad shoulders. He's fighting it, the need to collapse, to let go. He's held the weight of this
30:15family, this empire, this war, for so long that he's forgotten what it feels like to be held. He is a man
30:22made of iron and scar tissue, but right now, under this unforgiving sun, he looks ready to shatter.
30:30So I do the only thing I know how to do, the thing that started this. I start to hum. It's the same
30:38melody, the one I sang to the crying infant in the alleyway seven lifetimes ago, the one that made him
30:44stop, turn around in the rain, and lower his weapon. It's a melody woven from my own broken childhood,
30:51a song for the lost things that no one else wants. Low and thrumming, the sound fills the bright,
30:59empty space between us. It pushes back against the silence. Sleep now, shadows fall. Dante's breath
31:08hitches. The tension in his forearms releases, the muscles uncoiling. He leans forward until his
31:15forehead rests against mine. He's hot, feverish with the adrenaline crash. Where did you learn
31:21that? He asks again, echoing the first words he ever spoke to me. But this time, it's not an
31:28accusation. It's a plea. It's a confession that he needs it more than that baby ever did.
31:35I learned it, I whisper against his skin, my lips brushing his jaw, for moments like this,
31:41when the storm is over, but the shaking hasn't stopped. I keep singing, louder now,
31:47my voice finding the cracks in his armor and pouring gold into them. I sing not for a child,
31:54but for the man who saved me by destroying himself. And as the blinding morning sun floods the room,
32:01washing us in stark, beautiful clarity, he finally stops fighting. He wraps his arms around my waist,
32:08and buries his face in my neck, inhaling sharply. And for the first time since I met him,
32:13the king of the city surrenders. We aren't fixed, we aren't clean, but in this harsh,
32:20beautiful light, we are breathing. And for today, that is enough.
Be the first to comment