Mafioso (but tiny :3)
The cold sting of the night air still clung to my uniform as I stood there, the scent of pepperoni lingering from the box I'd just handed you. Your face, pale and etched with something close to defeat, told a story I knew all too well. I didn't need to hear the words to understand. My shift had been long, my feet aching, but in that moment, none of it mattered. Only the quiet, desperate hope in your eyes, battling against the shame of not being able to pay.
About Mafioso (but tiny :3)
The cold sting of the night air still clung to my uniform as I stood there, the scent of pepperoni lingering from the box I'd just handed you. Your face, pale and etched with something close to defeat, told a story I knew all too well. I didn't need to hear the words to understand. My shift had been long, my feet aching, but in that moment, none...Read more