Nikolai woke up first, still having a hard time accepting that he had actually fallen asleep, but Angelo in his arms was a loud testament to that. He reluctantly pulled away from the assassin, he had things to do before Angelo woke up.
He cleaned them up quickly, methodically, and after making sure Angelo was still asleep, he pulled on his discarded clothes and walked out.
He found Silvia in the living room, all of the light in her eyes had been extinguished, but he really couldn’t care less about that. "He’s asleep." He said shortly before she could speak.
Silvia just nodded, curled up on a sofa, the television on full blast.
Nikolai was surprised by this, he expected several accusations in rapid succession but she didn’t even seem inclined to berate him. "You’re calmer than I expected."
Silvia glanced over to the Mafia King, he was perfectly dressed, the only indication of what he had just done was his clothes being slightly disheveled. "I couldn’t order you two something to eat," She said instead, ignoring his earlier sentence.
Silvia wasn’t unreasonable, she just tended to forget herself when it involved Angelo. She had had enough time to calm down, and the Mafia King’s play room had been very instrumental in doing that.
She had access to a landline even if her phone was still in Angelo’s bathroom but she wasn’t about to order a delivery and risk the courier getting shot in the parking lot, so she just turned up the volume on the television to spare herself and sat tight. Sooner or later, one of them would come out, and she wasn’t wrong.
Nikolai didn’t ask any further questions, going to make the order himself. He knew that Angelo would probably eat anything as long as it wasn’t pancakes. "Order for yourself," He said coldly after the call dropped.
Silvia shot him an icy look, saying nothing as the Alpha sauntered out of the living room. Even if she was calmer now, she knew she would never meet eye to eye with Nikolai.
She would tolerate him for now, as soon as Angelo’s heat was over, she would rescue him from the Mafia King’s claws and take him back with her.
Grumbling to herself, she rose to her feet to order something to eat.
Angelo was still asleep when Nikolai returned, they were both clean, but the sheets were a mess. He didn’t want to interrupt the assassin’s sleep so it would have to wait till he woke up.
That was also if Angelo woke up lucid, if the Omega woke up flushed with heat, then food and a change of sheets would have to wait. He undid the buttons of his dress shirt and tugged it off, walking over to the messy sheets.
Angelo’s flush had receded, his hair still wild, pale green eyes staring back at him. He had been awake ever since the door opened, lying perfectly still in that way he did that was a little eerie.
Nikolai didn’t find anything odd about it, watching Angelo closely to make sure he was fine. "Have you been awake long?"
Angelo’s eyes were bright as the assassin stared up at him, none of the dazed dilation he previously sported. "No," He murmured, sitting up, the sheets that Nikolai had covered him up with falling away to reveal the dark red marks on his skin.
"I went out to order dinner," Nikolai found himself explaining, although an explanation hadn’t been asked for. "I got you pancakes."
Now Angelo looked up from his torso, his thought process visible in his eyes. A faint expression of disappointment crossed his features as he processed Nikolai’s words, he was sick of pancakes.
"Do you mind?" Nikolai’s voice dropped, he sat at the edge of the bed, a hint of self-doubt and self-loathing in his eyes.
Angelo shot him a look, he was trying to be really accommodating to show his gratitude to Nikolai, but pancakes were crossing the line. "Yes. You’ll be eating the pancakes. All of it."
Now it was Nikolai’s turn to process things slowly, an empty smile on his face. "I was joking about that."
Angelo eased off, and then glanced down at Nikolai’s exposed upper body, putting the puzzles together. "I have scars too," He reminded, putting his legs down so he sat next to Nikolai.
His visible scars came from his years of being an assassin, but there were scars that ran deeper than that, scars that weren’t visible but it didn’t take away from how jagged they were.
Angelo had felt Nikolai’s scars before he saw them, and they stood out because they were so many. There were slashes, cigarette burns and bumps but the ones that made his jaw ache from clenching down were the deep gouges, like someone had dug out chunks of his flesh.
"What’s that look on your face?" Nikolai asked, a wry smile on his face.
"It must have hurt," Angelo spoke softly.
The Mafia King relaxed imperceptibly, he wasn’t self-conscious about his scars— except with Angelo, and the people around him knew better than to ask how he had gotten them, but he didn’t want to have to deal with people’s opinions about them so he covered up.
Most were disgusted and unsettled, but he should have known by now what to expect from Angelo, the assassin was just like him. The scars on his body might be faint but the ones on his psyche were just as disquieting as the ones Nikolai had.
"At the start," His response came easily, his usually coiffed hair tousled, making the hard angles of his face appear softer.
"Then you don’t feel anything anymore," Angelo completed without meaning to.
His rumbling stomach destroyed the solemn air, Angelo looked startled to hear it. With how little the assassin ate, Nikolai wasn’t surprised that he had forgotten how to feel hungry.
Angelo got up and walked up to the closet to pull out a bathrobe, he covered himself up and turned around to find Nikolai watching him intently with an inscrutable expression. "Is something wrong?"
Nikolai eyed the assassin, discontent that he had covered up but even more ruffled by something else. "You’re walking a little too well."