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tenebris-melodiam · 7 years ago

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Stefano Valentini x Reader: Facade - Chapter 6

Pairing: Stefano Valentini x Reader/Female Protagonist (18+)

Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Swearing, Graphic Violence/Blood and Gore

Current Time: December 31st, 2015

=2=

“(Name), come on! You’re gonna look so cute in this party hat!”

You gave a groan as you rolled your eyes playfully, your head shaking slowly as you gave the man sitting upon your bed a submissive smile. He gave a grin in response to this, and then leaned over and carefully strapped the glittery, golden party hat atop your head. You looked up in an attempt to see it, but, of course, you were unable to do so—you instead reached up and gently batted the purple puffball that was resting upon the tip of the cone, then gave a quiet giggle as you watched Vincent put his own party hat upon his head. He truly was a fun-loving goofball, but that’s what you loved about him. You snickered when you heard him give a quiet ‘ouch’; he had accidentally struck the underside of his chin with the elastic band that held the hat atop his head by releasing it too early, and you couldn’t help but be amused by this.

“See? Party hats are dangerous things, Vince.”

“Oh yeah, they’re so dangerous… it’s gonna come alive and eat my brains, huh?”

“If they eat brains, then I think you’re more than safe, Vince.”

“Whoa now, sass readings are reaching critical levels!”

You watched as he dug around within his backpack for a few moments, and then chuckled in victory once he pulled two noisemakers from within its depths. He immediately placed the plastic end of one of them between his lips, a smart-ass grin spread across them as he playfully blew into it and made the end tickle your nose. You immediately rubbed at it, then stuck out your tongue as you took your noise maker from his hand and placed it between your lips. You gave it several small puffs, which made you giggle, and then flopped backwards onto the sheets of your bed. Vincent soon followed your lead, the two of you staring at each other while gently blowing on the noisemakers you both had in your mouths.

Eventually, you took your noisemaker and placed it on the bed, then sighed softly as you turned your attention to the ceiling. It was nice to spend the evening with him like this, since you hadn’t been able to do such a thing in quite some time. Sure, you had spent days with him and his other guy friends, but it certainly wasn’t the same as spending time alone with him; the two of you could talk about anything in the world, and he would never judge you for any of it. A smile came to your lips, just from the feeling of spending time with your best friend, and you gave a soft sigh as you closed your eyes for a moment.

“Hey, what’s this? Hidden Beauty?”

Your heart suddenly began to race within your chest, and you hastily sat up and cleared your throat—it was too late to try and convince him not to look at it, since he was already beginning to scan through the various photos that rested upon each of the pages. He stayed quiet for a majority of the time he was looking through it, and once he came to the last photograph within the album, a smile spread across his face and he turned his attention to you.

“Oh my God, (Name)! You two look so nice here! When did he give you this?”

You wanted to lie. You truly did. How could you tell Vincent that you had gone to Stefano’s place for a nice dinner after rejecting his offer to go to the club on that very same evening? However, you inhaled a deep breath and then absentmindedly began to draw small circles in the sheets of your bed as you parted your lips to give him the truthful answer.

“He gave it to me on Christmas Eve... he had invited me over for dinner, so I accepted.”

Vincent stared at you for a little while, and then hummed softly in acknowledgment before returning his attention to the book that he had within his hands. You felt your heart drop—he was upset at you, wasn’t he? You dropped your gaze to the disheveled sheets of your bed, the silence between the two of you only making you feel worse than you already did. You heard a thump from beside you, and you assumed that Vincent had set the book down upon the bedside table; when you finally glanced over at him to see how upset he seemed, you were surprised to see a comforting smile spread across his lips. He scooted across the bed to come to rest in front of you, and then gently placed a hand upon your shoulder.

“(Name), look at my face. Do I look upset to you? I promise you that I’m not, okay? In fact, I’m actually really glad that you went to dinner with him. But, you know me… I expect all the details, now!”

You felt him run his thumbs underneath your eyes, which had accumulated a small pool of unshed tears within them. You gave a half-hearted laugh, allowing a small smile to come to your lips as he moved his hands away from your face. Now knowing that your best friend desired all of the details of your Christmas Eve, you began to retell what you could recall of the night, which included the meal he had made, the candlelit dinner that the two of you had shared, the rather interesting conversation you had during that dinner, (you made sure to make the conversation explanation as vague as possible, since you knew Stefano had entrusted his personal information to you and you alone) and finally the moment when he had given you your photo album as a gift.

“Whoa, whoa, back up. You said that he asked you if you’d ever had the desire to be with someone?”

“Yeah, but-“

“(Name)… he totally likes you.”

You stared at the man sitting in front of you, the grin upon his lips only growing as he saw the confused and rather embarrassed expression beginning to form upon your face. He gave a laugh, situating himself so that his legs were crossed and he was more comfortable before speaking once more.

“(Name), c’mon… no dude invites a woman over to a dinner, a candlelit dinner, no less, asks her a question like that, and gives her a rather intimate gift like that book without having some kind of feelings for her.”

“Vince, even if he did have feelings for me, we’ve only known each other for a little bit over a month. That’s way too early to even-“

“No, no… look.”

Vincent gave a grunt as he unlocked his legs from their current position, and then scooted himself even closer to you upon your bed. The look upon his face told you everything that you needed to know: he was going to lecture you about what you had just said. You had seen this look a million times before, but his lectures were never ones that made you upset in the end. In fact, you figured you were in need of one right now more than ever—after all, you were rather confused about the entire situation.

“Let me ask you something, okay? Whenever you’re with him, do you get this light, fluttery feeling in your chest? Whenever you text him, do you smile whenever you open your phone, even if the message doesn’t entirely warrant a smile?”

“…yes.”

“I think you like him, (Name). You may not want to admit it, but I think you do. Who the hell cares how early it is, huh? Who are they to dictate how you feel about someone based on time alone? I’m not saying you should waltz up to him tomorrow and go “hey babe, we should hook up,” but if he truly makes you happy, you can’t miss this chance. Before you know it, he might be gone. And, trust me… losing someone because you were too scared to admit your feelings for them hurts worse than anything else.”

You saw a pained and sorrowful smile come across his lips, and you gave a quiet sigh before reaching your hand up and tenderly ruffling his hair. You made a comment about how he was always right about things like this, which ended up eliciting a laugh from him—you didn’t like seeing your normally peppy and upbeat best friend upset like that, so making light of the situation was an absolute must right now. You turned your attention to your phone, which was sitting upon the bed and counting down the seconds to the new year; you gasped when you saw that there were only twenty-two seconds left in the year of 2015, and you grabbed Vincent’s noisemaker and shoved it between his lips.

“I can’t believe we almost missed the new year! Get ready to blow on that thing as hard as you can, cause it’s gonna be a good year this time, Vince.”

You saw the corners of his lips curl upwards into a smile, and he gave a gentle puff of breath to show that he was ready. You grinned as you placed the plastic end of your noisemaker in-between your lips, and then looked down at the screen of your phone. The ten-second countdown had begun.

10. 9. 8. 7. 6. 5. 4. 3. 2. 1.

A shower of confetti rained down across your phone screen, followed by several pixelated fireworks that exploded in various places once the timer hit zero. You inhaled deeply, then blew as hard as you could into the noisemaker—a quaint, fun symbol of the new year, and hopefully, a better one. When you had blown so hard that your cheeks had turned a slight shade of red, you began to giggle happily; so much so that the noisemaker fell from your lips and onto the sheets of your bed. You wrapped your arms tightly around Vincent, a content sigh passing your lips as you enjoyed the feeling of his embrace.

However, your embrace didn’t last long. You heard your phone ding with a notification that you knew meant you had a new email, and you glanced down at the screen to see the name of the sender: Matt Hades, your boss, and owner of the Krimson Post. You felt your eyebrows furrow upon reading his name, seeing as how you never received any emails from him unless it was something of severe importance. You swiped down and pressed the notification to read what he had sent, and your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach whenever you did.

“Meet me in my office tomorrow at 10 A.M. We have a serious matter to discuss.”

=2=

Current Time: January 12th, 2016

“I can’t believe this, Vincent… I honestly can’t believe this. It’s bad enough that I had to be in the same room with him to discuss what happened at the gallery that night, but then he goes and writes a goddamn article about it.”

You threw the newspaper, which had an article titled “Krimson Critic Suspended,” down upon the bar, which Vincent proceeded to read and scoff quietly at. He rubbed his cloth along the inside of the glass he was currently cleaning, and you laid your forehead down against the smooth wood of the bar as you exhaled deeply; you honestly felt like breaking down and sobbing right now, and it took everything you had to keep from doing just that. Not only had you been made a fool of in front of your boss, but now the entire city knew about the incident that unfolded between you and James King thanks to this article he had written about it. You felt a hand gently pat the top of your head, and you glanced up to see that Vincent was attempting to comfort you.

“Screw him, honestly. He’s a jackass, you know? Everyone only likes him because of the insane amount of money that he has. That’s one of the only reasons that Hades hired him to work for the Post. It gave him some new shit to brag about.”

“Yeah, screw him, but it’s because of him that I got suspended without pay for three weeks. All because I defended Stefano and apparently made a mockery of both King and the entire company of the Post.”

Upon finishing your sentence, you turned your attention to the front door of the bar—this was a horrible mistake. Your chest tightened as none other than Mr. King strolled through the entryway, a pompous chortle leaving his lips as he laughed as whatever horrendous joke one of his two male colleagues had spoken before they entered. You noticed that he shot a glance in your direction, only to have a snobby, victorious grin spread across his lips as he took a seat at one of the empty booths against the wall.

“(Name)… (Name), don��t do anything rash. You could get in trouble again…”

You heard Vincent speaking, but you couldn’t take your gaze off the wrinkled, half-bald man speaking with his goons. Anger was boiling within your body, and you curled your fingers into the palm of your hand so hard that you unknowingly pierced your skin with your nails. You were itching to confront him, even if that was giving him exactly what he wanted. You forced yourself to tear your gaze away from King, your eyes instead landing upon the dark, wooden surface of the bar in front of you. You had to keep yourself calm. You couldn’t afford another visit to Hades’ office, especially when you were treading on thin ice already.

You grabbed your drink, which you had barely touched since you arrived at the bar since you had arrived there, and took several large sips from it in an effort to fix your mind on something else. However, no matter how hard you tried, your mind had honed in on the conversation that King was having with his colleagues, and you couldn’t tear it away.

“Honestly, it’s no surprise she’d end up here. Where else would she go after being called out on her wrongs? Drinking away her sorrows, I suppose… women truly are such emotional creatures.”

That was it. The cage that had previously contained all your anger had been torn apart within you, and you slammed your glass down upon the countertop as you threw yourself off of your stool. You heard Vincent whisper your name harshly, and you felt him desperately attempt to grab your shirt, but he didn’t get a good enough grip before you were out of his reach.

“Alright, James. You have something against me? Is that it? You want to talk about how I come here after being called out, huh? Don’t be such a goddamn hypocrite—you went to Hades because you couldn’t stand the act that I called you out in front of everyone for the shit you put me through, and how unprofessional you were acting.”

You stormed over to his table, and you didn’t even flinch when he and his goons rose to their feet. The rest of the bar was dead silent now, and you could feel all the eyes upon you as you stood your ground against the man who had wronged you for the last time. You were done being silent against him.

“Tell me what your problem is with me, James. Does seeing me fail and tormenting me about my opinion somehow help get you off at night? Because I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you acting all high and mighty—strutting around like you own the whole damn world. It took me years to get where I am now, and what did it take you? Some of daddy’s money?”

The two of you were practically at each other’s necks at this point, the two of you glaring at one another between the few inches that separated you. You could feel his angered breath upon your skin, and you enjoyed every moment of it. You were finally speaking your mind directly to him—not for Stefano this time, but for you. With every moment that passed, the urge to throw your fist right into his cheek grew stronger; you knew you had to contain yourself, however, and you dug your nails harder into the skin of your palms in a desperate attempt to keep yourself in check. Finally, King responded.

“Need I remind you that it was you who started this war, Ms. (Last Name)… not me. By openly mocking the critics of Krimson City in your article, you opened the gateway wide open for repercussion.”

“Repercussion?”

The voice that came from behind you surprised you, and both you and King turned your attention to the agitated face of Vincent, who was steadily making his way out from behind the bar and to your side.

“Repercussion isn’t banding together with all the other critics to send her hateful messages. Repercussion isn’t threatening to end her career all because a critic couldn’t take criticism. Do you know how upset she was while all of you laughed away and felt proud of yourselves for throwing nothing but shit her way? No, you don’t even care about that, you pompous jackass.”

After staring in disbelief at your best friend for a few moments, you turned your attention to King, who was taken aback by the words Vincent had spoken. He cleared his throat, and then noticed all the whispers that had begun to circulate around the bar.

“Did he really do all that just because he was criticized? That’s pretty sad…”

“God, I heard he was petty, but I didn’t think it was this bad.”

“No wonder no one likes him.”

King gave a quiet growl upon hearing this, and then cleared his throat and attempted to regain his pompous stature. He gave an egotistical smile, and then took out his phone and unlocked it.

“I demand the number of the owner of this establishment. I’m filing a complaint against you, seeing as you’re a worker here.”

Vincent cocked his eyebrow, but shrugged his shoulders and began to speak a phone number in response to King’s request. You watched as King punched each of the numbers into his phone, and upon completing it, brought the phone to his ear. You watched the color drain from his face as Vincent’s phone began to ring within his pocket, and your best friend answered it with a triumphant smile upon his lips.

“I am the owner. Now, get out of my establishment.”

King huffed in annoyance, whispered what sounded like some form of swear underneath his breath, and then ordered his cronies to follow him out of the front door. Upon leaving, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving the entire bar in silence once more. However, the silence soon broke into a roar of jeers and applause, which Vincent chuckled quietly to as he put his phone back into his pocket. You gave him a questioning grin, and he flushed slightly before rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Yeah, uh… I should have said something sooner. My boss officially passed the bar on to me last week. It’s mine now.”

Before you could respond however, Vincent took notice of the red droplets that were steadily dripping from the ends of your fingers. He reached down and grabbed your hands gently, only to see that you had tore open the skin with your nails during the confrontation with King. He sighed quietly as he gave a shake of his head, then began to lead you towards the back room of the bar.

“C’mon, Ms. Troublemaker. Lets get you bandaged up.”

=2=

Current Time: March 9th, 2016

[Vinny]: Did you hear that good ol’ King went missing? Apparently the KPD doesn’t know whether his disappearance is correlated to those models who keep going missing, or some personal vendetta someone had with him. I wouldn’t doubt someone had something personal against him, considering how much of a dick he was to literally everyone.

[Me]: Yeah. I actually found out about it because some cops came to my apartment and questioned me about it. It was quite the wake up call, let me tell you.

[Vinny]: Pfft, that’s how I found out about it, too. After all, we had that argument a few months back, remember? I guess that kind of put us in the frontlines for questioning.

[Me]: Oh yeah, how could I ever forget that day? Anyway, I gotta go, okay? I’m about to head up to Stefano’s apartment. I didn’t tell him I was coming over, so it’s going to be a surprise.

[Vinny]: God, just seal the damn deal already, woman! You’ve been going over there like three times a week for the past few months! But, if you do seal the deal… remember to be safe~

[Me]: Ha ha, very funny. TTYL, Vince.

You locked your phone and placed it into your pocket as you stepped into the elevator, your forefinger pressing gently against the ever-familiar button that was labeled “PH.” You began to hum softly to yourself as you rocked back and forth upon your feet, then smiled when you heard the ding to express that you had arrived at your proper floor. You stepped out into the hallway, only to have someone dash right into your shoulder as they hurried past you.

“Oh, oh! I’m so sorry! I apologize!”

You hissed as you rubbed your shoulder, your eyebrows knit together in both pain and irritation as you glanced at the well-dressed woman that was giving you an embarrassed smile from behind the closing doors of the elevator. Though you only saw her for a moment, her features were crystalline within your mind—those bright, emerald green eyes that looked as though they could seduce any man who looked their way, the silky, chestnut-blonde hair atop her head tied back into a ballet bun with a desperately elaborate hair stick poking through it to hold it in place, and the crimson-red dress cascading down the curves of her body to cover her Mary-Jane clad feet. It was only after you realized that you remembered every detail about someone you only saw for a split second that you felt your heart beating against your ribcage, and realized that you were trembling slightly; you knew exactly what was going on, now. You were jealous.

Who was this woman, and what had she been doing inside of Stefano’s studio? Surely they weren’t—no. No, no… Stefano wouldn’t do anything like that. You grit your teeth as you began to make your way hastily down the hall, a deep exhale passing your lips as you rapped your fist several times upon Stefano’s door. You weren’t about to waste any time to see him or speak with him now, especially after seeing that woman leaving his studio. You just had to know who she was, and what she had been doing there. It didn’t take long for Stefano to open the door, a look of mild confusion upon his face as he saw you.

“(Name)? I wasn’t expecting you today—what brings you here?”

As he always did, Stefano pressed his back against the door to allow you room to pass into his studio, and you did just that (albeit with quite a bit more haste than you normally had). You looked around his studio, seeing if anything at all seemed out of place or out of the ordinary. It was then that you noticed his photography lights illuminating the curved wall of his studio that you gave a quiet sigh; it would seem that the woman you had run into on the way down the hall was nothing more than Stefano’s newest model, and that calmed your nerves slightly.

“I uh… I just wanted to come over and see you today, that’s all. Thought I’d pay you a surprise visit.”

“Ah, well that explains it. Might I offer you something to drink?”

“No, no… thank you, but I’m fine.”

You walked across the studio to take a seat upon the couch, your thumbs absentmindedly playing chase with one another—though you had some form of reassurance that the woman you had seen was only another model for the photographer, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of jealousy from your mind. Your heart was still beating roughly within your chest, and it felt as though it would explode if it continued on like this. You were drawn back into reality when you felt the couch shift slightly, and you turned your gaze to Stefano, who was now seated upon the cushion to your left.

“Something seems amiss, mia cara. You aren’t acting like your normal self.”

“Hmm… so you noticed, huh?”

You gave him the faintest of smiles, your mind now tussling with the thought of perhaps admitting your feelings for him. There was no arguing it anymore; you had fallen hopelessly in love with the obscure photographer, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to admit it or not. After all, you had only known him for a few months—nearly four, to be exact. However, after much tussling around with various thoughts, your mind decided to pull a memory from within its archives that spurred you forward.

‘And, trust me… losing someone because you were too scared to admit your feelings for them hurts worse than anything else.’

You inhaled deeply, mentally preparing yourself for what you were about to say. Should anything negative come of this, then you would face the consequences. You swallowed hard, gathered your courage one last time, then parted your lips to speak.

“Stefano, I need you to listen to me. Please don’t say anything… I just need you to listen.”

The photographer cocked his eyebrow at this, but gave a slow nod of his head to show that he understood. This gave you a tiny bit of reassurance, and made speaking your next words to him a bit easier.

“For years, I’ve followed you and your art—I followed you relentlessly because you were talented, bold, and you dared to go against societal norms. I honestly never dreamed that I would meet you that night in the bar, or that we’d have the relationship that we do today, y’know? I-I just…”

Your words got caught in your throat as your eyes began to become misty with tears. You clenched your right hand a bit in order to steady yourself, but it didn’t seem to help; why were you getting choked up? Was it because you were afraid that speaking your feelings for him would damage the relationship that you already had? Were you just too embarrassed? Perhaps you were afraid of the possibility of rejection? You gulped down the knot in your throat, forcing yourself to move past it as partially-broken words continued to flow past your lips.

“W-what I’m trying to say, is that… over the past few m-months, I’ve developed… feelings for you. Feelings that are more than just platonic. Now I know that we’ve only known each other for a small period of time, but I just don’t want to lose the chance of telling you before someone else steals you away! G-God, I’m such an idiot… I’m sorry…”

You bowed your head as clasped your hands together, gripping each of them roughly as you grit your teeth. You heard Stefano give a very quiet hum, most likely as he contemplated the words that had just left your lips, and this only made the tightness in your chest even worse. Now that you had spoken your mind, you were drowning in a sea of regret—you had heard far too many stories of people who’s friendships were never the same after romantic feelings had been admitted, and that was what you fear most right now. What if Stefano no longer saw you in the same light that he had been seeing you in all this time?

“I take it this confession was brought on by the woman you saw leaving here? She is nothing more than another figure I use for modeling, I assure you.”

You brought your sleeve across your eyes, a soft sniffle leaving you as you hastily attempted to regain your composure. You hated letting people see you become emotional, and that was especially true around Stefano. You cleared your throat, your body finally relaxing a bit upon realizing the words that the photographer had spoken—all that worrying had been for nothing after all. Which also meant… your confession was unnecessary, and you had made a fool of yourself for nothing.

“Well… I apologize for both the emotional outburst, and the… uh… whatever I said. I must look like a total idiot now, and I’m sorry for causing you any distress.”

“Distress? My dear (Name), the last thing you have caused me is any form of distress. I take it you remember the question I presented to you upon the night we partook in dinner together, yes?”

You gave a small nod of your head in response to his question, and this seemed to please him as the corners of his lips curled into the lightest of smiles.

“I imposed such a question upon you because I myself was beginning to wonder if I had finally found another that I could connect with. After all, I did say that I could only form such a bond with another who could enjoy my artwork as much as I, did I not?”

He reached a gloved hand over, his touch as gentle as the brush of a feather as he took your hand within his own and brought your knuckles to his lips. Upon feeling this, your heart gave a gentle flutter within your chest, and you couldn’t help the grin that spread upon your lips. Though you fervently attempted to hide it by turning your head away from him, this meager attempt to conceal your embarrassment lasted only a short period of time before your gaze was returned back upon the raven-haired man. You swallowed as you felt his lips come to rest upon your forehead, your heart now doing summersaults as embarrassment continued to consume your entire being.

This was the first time such an intimate moment had been shared between the two of you, and it was quite exciting in all honesty. You felt as giddy as a young schoolgirl who finally managed to be noticed by their longtime crush, and as you felt Stefano continue to shower your forehead and cheeks in slow, tender kisses, you couldn’t contain the childish giggles that left your lips. This was all so new—you hadn’t been shown this type of affection at all, but it was something that you could continue to grow accustomed to. You felt the man place one final kiss upon your cheek, his hand still maintaining a gentle grip upon your own as he moved back from you.

“Forgive me if my actions were too much. I wouldn’t dare go beyond what you deemed appropriate.”

“No, no, it wasn’t too much at all, Stefano. It made me feel much better, so… thank you.”

You watched as he gave a slow nod, and in an effort to change the subject (mostly due to the overwhelming amount of embarrassment you were currently suffering from) you cleared your throat as you noticed that his camera was sitting upon the countertop.

“Oh yeah, have you tried out your new lens yet?”

“Ah, I have yet to do so! I’ve been waiting for just the right moment to use it; inspiration has been rather fleeting as of late, but I have finally found it once more. I’ll be sure to show you any pictures worthy of your beautiful gaze, mia cara.”

=2=

Current Time: March 15th, 2016

“The bird of inspiration is a fickle thing, really… it only comes about when the fruits of imagination are ripe, then vanishes once more.”

The voice resounded throughout the pitch-black room, only to make the older man’s heart pick up within his chest. This was the first time he had heard a voice in several days, but it certainly wasn’t the voice of someone whom had come to rescue him. This was a voice he had heard before—the voice that he had heard upon being stolen away from his own home. How long had it been since he had seen the light of day? It certainly wasn’t a few days. Weeks, perhaps? The only thing that he knew was that this voice brought pain, and it wasn’t something he was sure he could tolerate much longer.

“I’ve given you more than enough time to reflect upon your thoughts, no? Have you figured out who I am yet, hmm?”

The man said nothing in reply, the only noise leaving his body being the raspy breaths that he took in through his mouth and exhaled through his nose. He cringed as a bright flash of light filled his vision, and for a moment, he could see a faint outline of the man whom had captured him. The hair over the eye, the lean, suit-clad body, the Italian accent, and now… the camera. He leaned his head back against the chair he was currently bound to, a deep, raspy exhale leaving his moisture-barren lips as he closed his eyes. All he could do was give a half-hearted laugh.

“Stefano Valentini… honestly… I’m ashamed of myself for not realizing who my kidnapper was sooner… but, you know, it makes more sense now. I always knew you were insane, but this takes it to a whole other-“

King stopped as he felt the blade of a knife press against the center of his neck, a choked gasp leaving his throat as his skin prickled at the feeling of cold metal. For a second, he believed he could see the lone, teal eye of the photographer, but there was no light to be found within this room. It must have just been his imagination. Perhaps he, too, was beginning to lose his sanity.

“Don’t fret, for I have much more in store for you than a quick cut to the throat. You must suffer… you must suffer as she did.”

“S-she? Who the hell is she?”

King swallowed hard, the blade of the knife moving only slightly as he did so. He could feel something trickle down the side of his neck, and he knew immediately was it was. When he finally felt the blade be removed from his throat, he gave a quiet exhale of relief—his tormenter wasn’t going to take his life yet.

“Do not play coy with me. Use what little of a brain you possess and come to that conclusion yourself.”

“…(Name). I knew something was going on between the two of you. For God’s sake man, is this truly something to kill me over?”

King’s attention was drawn downward upon feeling something land upon his lap, and his eyes widened upon seeing the article he had written about your suspension. Once again, he grimaced as light suddenly flooded the room—his own shadow was cast wide across the wall in front of him as the photography light placed directly behind him warmed his back, the calm face of his kidnapper finally coming into view. Feeling panic invade his very being, King’s eyes darted around the room, finally coming to rest upon the pool of dried blood that rested around the legs of his chair. Dear God… had he truly bled that much since arriving here?

“Indeed it is. You see, I do not take kindly to those who insult me or my artwork. Typically, I endure this hatred and continue forward. However, when someone dares make a fool of someone who has earned my rarely-given trust… I do not tolerate it.”

King felt a sudden sting on his right arm, a cry of pain escaping his lips as another bright flash of light immediately followed. He hissed through his clenched teeth, his gaze falling to the wall of crimson now steadily cascading down his skin. Another cry of pain echoed throughout the small room as a deep gash appeared upon King’s left arm as well, the wall of crimson followed only by another flash from Stefano’s camera.

“If you’re going to kill me, just kill me!”

“Stop complaining, dammit! Your constant moaning is beginning to irk me.”

King was taken aback by the sudden bark of irritation that Stefano had emitted. He had never seen, nor heard, of the photographer having an irritable side, and that terrified him to his very core. He bit his tongue within his mouth, swallowing hard once more as the gentle dripping of his own blood pooling onto the floor filled his ears.

“I must say, the lens (Name) gifted me is performing beautifully. It truly captures the authentic feel of your blood…”

“Authentic feel? That’s because my blood is authentic, you piece of sh-“

The pain registered for only a moment within King’s mind, the salty taste of blood filling his mouth as he immediately dropped his lower jaw and allowed the dark substance to drip onto the floor. Again, another flash of light blinded him momentarily as Stefano captured his current predicament on film, and he crouched down in front of the now-weeping man still tied helplessly to his chair.

“Apparently you failed to understand my command. Now… cease your incessant whining, you ill-bred philistine.”

Stefano gave the bleeding man a hard glare, his gaze falling upon the half-cut tongue that was currently dangling just past King’s teeth. One severed lingual artery wasn’t enough to kill him, but the mess was proving to be quite the predicament. He would have avoided such a thing, but he truly couldn’t stand it when his victims wouldn’t stay quiet. He grunted softly as he rose upright once more, being careful to pace around the ever-growing pool of partially-coagulated blood that was surrounding King’s chair—after all, these were one of his favorite pairs of shoes. He wouldn’t want to get this man’s filth all over them.

“I truly must thank (Name) whenever I see her again… this lens is far superior to the one I had before it, and it takes the most exquisite photographs. If only I had it before I had created some of my other masterpieces…”

By this point, King was having a hard time focusing on the world around him. A steady stream of blood still oozed from the dangling, half-cut muscle within his mouth, and his eyes could only watch as the crimson droplets fell from his jaw into the puddle beneath his chair. This was certainly the end for him, and he knew there would be no getting out of it. He turned his attention to Stefano, who was beginning to fade in and out of a blurry form due to his growing exhaustion and blood loss, then exhaled a long breath through his nose as he closed his eyes—he wanted rest more than anything else at this point, even if that meant leaving this life behind as a consequence of it. However, this was denied as his head was forcibly lifted back, and the blade of Stefano’s knife was once more pressed against the middle of his throat.

“You’re a fool if you believe I’ll allow your death so soon; we still have more photography to do, Mr. King. Death will not give you grace until I’ve created a masterpiece of you.”

=2=

Author’s Note (1): Apologies for the long delay with this chapter. College has been killing me the past few weeks.

Author’s Note (2): Several time-skips in this chapter. Apologies if the dates aren’t clear, but I attempted to format it in a way that was readable.

Author’s Note (3): Yay, we finally have an established relationship!

Author’s Note (4): Finally getting to the part of the story where everything is going to get a bit darker. A lot of fluff and whatnot in the beginning chapters for the sake of relationship building, but that’s all going to change now. Can’t have everything be fluffy when Stefano is involved.

Author’s Note (5): King is officially the only character I have ever created in a fanfiction series that I have wanted to punch in the face since day one. Well, he got what he deserved thanks to protective Stefano.

Author’s Note (6): Confessions are tedious to write, honestly. It’s difficult not to make them sound cliché, which is something I hate doing in writing. So, yes, Reader gets misty-eyed and a bit emotional, but that doesn’t mean she wears her heart on her shoulder.

#The Evil Within 2 #Stefano Valentini #The Evil Within #Fanfics #videogames #mature #my fics #my writing #x reader #alcohol consumption #blood and gore #torture

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