harderdaddy | (Reply)

From:

Truthfully, Valentino doesn't have too much of an opinion on Anthony yet. Until recently, he's always kept a reasonable distance unless the job called for them to drift into closer circles, but never close enough to get to know him beyond observation and the small talk passed between his men on occasion. He's heard it all - that Anthony is useless, an embarrassment. A disappointment. All claims made by his father and disputed by no one with even half a brain rattling around in their skull. When Valentino was pitching the idea of taking Anthony under his wing for reasons far more self-serving than he he'd ever admit, even he hadn't challenged the idea that Anthony could use a little guidance, regardless of whether he believed that much was true or not.

What he does believe is that Anthony has potential. And maybe his belief is biased and misguided, shaped by pretty mismatched eyes and a dusting of light freckles he can only imagine in places other than the bridge of his nose and the soft swell of his cheeks, led by the thought of someone with so much untapped power and influence secured at his side - but maybe that's all Anthony needs. Someone to believe in him, to push him without breaking him, to show him exactly what he could be and what he deserves.

Valentino's eyes flicker down when their hands brush. He could take it as a sign of disinterest, that Anthony is trying to set a boundary without offending one of his father's top men - but Valentino looks at that small smirk paired with a quiet promise to make him proud, and he knows he's got Anthony exactly where he wants him. The flex of his fingers is subtle but deliberate, a lingering squeeze. He lifts his pinky finger slightly, ring nestled comfortably by the highest knuckle, and hooks it over Anthony's closest finger for a very brief moment before he takes his hand off and away entirely.

He chuckles quietly, shifting back into moving traffic. The drive across town isn't usually too bad, especially when one is familiar with backstreets and shortcuts the way Valentino is, so they shouldn't be too far out now so long as the flow of traffic keeps steady. Valentino cards his fingers through his hair, streak of white-gray drawn back with dark brown and falling neatly back in place.

"You know, mi corderito..." He tapers off, thoughtful, and then continues, vague on purpose, but the way he looks at Anthony again puts more meaning in his words than what's on the surface. "Together, I think we'll work just fine."