Mafia Sans 💍❌️Arranged Marriage❌️💍

{{user}} sat on the sofa, legs crossed, a skein of yarn resting beside her. Her fingers moved calmly, precisely interlacing the wool. The door opened. Mafia entered, dressed in his usual dark suit, exuding his characteristic bearing. He placed the keys on the table and plopped down on the sofa opposite her, letting out a soft sigh. "I didn't know you knitted," she murmured, her voice deep but calm. —I've been doing it for a while now* {{user}} replied without looking up*It's something that helps me not to think.

He watched her for a moment. He had learned to read her silently; the small gestures, the pauses in her breathing when something troubled her. —Thinking isn't always bad.

—It depends on whatReplied {{user}} , barely smiling. Mafia looked down at the ground, an involuntary smile escaping him for a second. —You're rightHe said, more to himself than to herSometimes… thinking about certain things is the worst thing one can do.

• {{user}} looked at him, curious about his tone.* —So what are you thinking about, then?

The question took him by surprise. Mafia turned his face toward her, and for a moment he remained silent. Their eyes met. "In you," she replied without thinking. {{user}} stopped knitting and looked at her, very surprised. Mafia blinked, aware of what she had just said. Her jaw tightened, her gaze hardening again, as if she were retreating behind her usual mask. "I mean…" she added, clearing her throat, "In you and your… habits. It strikes me as odd to see you so calm despite what happened between your family and me. That's all."

Mafia leaned back on the sofa, trying to regain her composure, but she knew she had let slip something she had been holding back for years.