There’s been a lot of talk about Val’s orifices as of late, I PROMISE this has been stewing in my drafts for quite a while, the timing just feels right lol
Hey guys, if anyone has an MC for TATW and would like a moodboard, feel free to drop me a request and a short description of him/her ur girl is getting pretty bored haha
if u have an mc from other fictif stories I’d love to make moodboards for them, too!!!
Ralph looked over at the backseat, where Nicky was looking at Soledad like she was a mountain he needed to move. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and the kid seemed to know that she was in a pickle. It wouldn’t do to have a government agent so close to Nicky; Ralph knew this, which is why he had brought out the gun he hid in the Royce.
Little Miss Diaz– Captain Diaz, who would have thought– sighed; and suddenly, Ralph could see it. There were the tear-troughs, the eye bags, the stress lines; Soledad suddenly looked older than him.
“I have to admit,” she began, “that I haveworked as an… intelligence officer after I was promoted to captain.”
“You mean a spy.”
Nicky’s voice cut through the tension and he was suddenly the head of the Valentino Family, not the love stricken puppy of ten minutes ago. This was the Nicky that Ralph dealt with everyday, and it was the Nicky that he saw the most of right until last night. But now that Ralph knew how his boss could be (a little bit soft, yeah, but so much happier) he sort of wished that he never saw Nicky Valentino, mafia boss extraordinaire, ever again.
“Not exactly,” Soledad said, “but that’s close enough. I would go to the indigenous tribes and make deals with them on behalf of the government, try to make sure that they wouldn’t side with the communists in the region, or ask if they knew the whereabouts of the New People’s Army. So it wasn’t really spying, it was… negotiating. Investigation, if you will. Intelligence gathering.”
The kid was eerily calm, with no trace of emotion on her face or voice. Ralph supposed that maybe this was the Soledad that existed before Nicky.
Her gaze flickered to the gun as Ralph’s side. Her eyes didn’t widen, and she didn’t panic. No; she seemed to relax at the sight of it.
“Threats and guns,” she sighed. “Brings me back to my glory days.”
Nicky shared a look with Ralph that said ‘she’s crazier than I thought.’
“Marone,”he muttered. “Look, Sol. I don’t wanna hurt ya, ‘cos I know that I’d regret it. So give your story to me straight.”
“Fair enough,” she said, settling into the plush leather seats. Sol was the most relaxed of the trio even with her hands cuffed behind her back. Ralph had to respect how composed she was, seeing to the fact that she was unarmed with two men that she barely knew, and was in possession of firearms.
“I guess I should start from the top. My grandfather was a general, so when I was a child I wanted to be just like him. This, of course, led me to the army; except I was twenty-one with an inferiority complex, so I decided to join the Marines.”
Nicky watched her smile, as though she was recalling fond memories.
“We were the elite; the best, the brightest, the few. I saw the frontline three times in my career, where the army had skirmishes with rebel groups. These are the NPA, the New People’s Army– communists that tell poor farmers and idealistic college kids that the system is corrupt and the only way out is a makeover. All good and well, except their leader isn’t even living in the Philippines, and their higher-ups are just as corrupt as government officials. So they’re a bunch of rapists and thugs that profit from their hypocrisy.”
Ralph glanced at Nicky, who had his complete focus on Soledad. The Rolls Royce had been at a standstill for five minutes now.
“Then,” Sol said, “the rebels attacked a city in the south of the country, Marawi. I served there, got promoted to captain. My grandfather died shortly after, and that’s when I was offered a slot in the intelligence division. I agreed, got new assignments. Usually, the army uses ‘retired’ officers to gather data and intelligence. Like James Bond– he was a commander.”
“James who?”
“Oh,” Soledad said. “He’s, uh, a fictional character. Hasn’t been created yet.”
Nicky gave a slow nod; it was surprisingly easy to believe everything that Sol told him, so easy that it felt almost like cheating. But everything she told him was too bizarre to be anything but true.
And he knew what she looked like when she told the truth; people lie in many ways, but tell the truth in one. Nicky noticed that she spoke slowly when she was talking about herself, as if she wanted to be clear and concise– as if she didn’t want to be misunderstood.
‘I’ve got a wide skill set.’
Well, Nicky thought to himself. I guess I know what her skill set is now.
And to wrap his head around the fact that she had seen war– it felt like having a secret that they both shared, a sudden kinship. Because Nicky himself had been at war, and had led it, had scars from it.
He didn’t know if this was what drew him to her– but then, there were many things about Soledad that he adored. Nicky loved the way she made him laugh; he loved how her hair curled under her chin; he loved how she said the plain truth, how she didn’t mince her words. Nicky didn’t know everything about her, but he could spend his lifetime doing that.
So did he mind that she didn’t tell him about her past? No, not at all. There were things that he did that he didn’t tell her yet, and somehow, Nicky knew that Sol would understand his silence on a few spots in his life.
“Hey, toots,” Nicky said. “Ya need a pin? ‘Cause those handcuffs don’t look like they’re gonna unlock themselves.”
“Oh,” she looked surprised. “I forgot about that.”
Nicky snorted, “how could you forget being handcuffed?”
“I don’t know, maybe I was worried about the fact that a certain someone was maybe mad at me?”
Nicky got a pin that he had in his jacket, and Sol turned her back to him. He was touched at how ready she was to trust him with unlocking her handcuffs, even after his open hostility.
“I already told ya, sweet thing.” There was a metallic pop, and the handcuffs were out. “There’s no need to worry. I got you.”
She turned to face him, and the afternoon sunlight that came in through the car’s window somehow made her look more golden, made her brown skin look deeper. For the first time since he met her, Sol looked like she didn’t know what to say. Nicky placed his hand on top of her’s, both sticky from sweat; suddenly, he couldn’t see anything but her dark eyes and the curl of her hair. All at once, he realised that she had been what he was waiting for, body and soul.
“Looks like we need ‘ta get outta here,” he said, voice lower than he intended. “What do you say, toots? Wanna go to my place at the Hamptons?”
***
If Sol was going to ask if she could drive the car one more time, Ralph would explode. He had a little vein in his forehead that didn’t exist until last night. It was crazy, how bullheaded someone could be; crazier still that Nicky was looking at her like she hung the stars and the moon.
It was dark already outside, and the air was getting colder, whipping at cheeks and turning exhales into wisps of smoke. Outside the world of the Rolls Royce trees were shedding their leaves into dark green heaps that could barely be seen in the lack of light. Inside the Rolls Royce, at the backseat, Nicky had his arm over Sol, and she was resting her head on his chest.
Ralph rolled up to the driveway, noticing, somewhat smugly, that Sol barely batted an eyelash at Nicky’s mansion. He had been waiting for some girl that wasn’t impressed with Nicky’s spending habits.
Said man nudged Sol at the ribs, smiling. “Do I know how to spend money, or what?”
Said girl chuckled. “I’d go for the ‘or what’, but I don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”
Nicky put a hand on his chest, acting as if someone stabbed him. “Too late,” he rasped, collapsing into her. “I may never recover.”
Sol pecked his cheek. “There,” she smiled widely. “A kiss to make it better.”
Ralph gagged, parking at the entrance as quickly as possible.
“Get out,” he said. “I got a date with a pair of dancers tonight, and I don’t wanna have to explain why I got a toothache.”
Nicky raised an eyebrow, but Soledad slid out of the car laughing. Ralph wanted to snort– at least someoneknew how to take a joke. Nicky could be a bit sore sometimes.
“Have fun, Ralph,” Sol said. “Don’t stay out too late, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“That’s not much,” Ralph rolled his eyes, walking to his car and leaving the two love birds behind. Nicky gave a small wave, his eyes warm and smiling. Sometimes the man showed his affection in small ways.
Sol paused to look at the house, with its cream colored bricks and French design. Somehow, it reminded her of her family, and a way of life that was lost to her. Homesickness settled at the bottom of her gut; that’s how she knew it was shit.
“Honey,” she said, “it ain’t that bad, but I gotta tell you. It’s pretty obvious that a young man with new money owns this place. But not to worry, when the ivy grows it will look distinguished. Ivy gives everything an air of gravitas.”
Nicky peered down at her. “And how exactly are you an expert on gravitas, toots?”
“Well, I’m with you aren’t I?” Sol said it like it wasn’t flirting, but a fact. “Besides, my family is so old money that we have no money. I saw it, but it never reached me.”
“Well, honey,” he grinned, “you can reach for all the money you want. My treat.”
She punched his arm playfully, and Nicky winced at the force of it. Sol was an army captain alright.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got a swell place that’s perfect for stargazing. You can see entire galaxies up there. Wanna check it out?”
Sol shook her head, and Nicky tried his best to not feel disappointed.
“It’s a cold night,” she replied, “and I am physically, psychologically, socially, culturally, genetically and spiritually unable to stand the cold. I’m from the Philippines, and that’s at the middle of the equator.”
Nicky chuckled. “Well, I have some mink that I could lend you for New York in the winter.”
Soledad groaned. “Just throw me to the sun, please. I hate winter.”
Nicky didn’t mean to grin at her despair, but he couldn’t help it. “Too bad, toots, ‘cause I love snow.”
“Hay, susmariosep,” she muttered to herself. Nicky blinked at her, and she sighed, stepping into the house– she was cold already, standing in the evening air.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” she clarified. “But we Filipinos take revenge on our colonizers by bastardising their language, hence: susmariosep.”
Nicky led her into the mansion, and Sol was struck with how immaculate everything was. The marbled floors were shinier than a brand new Ferrari, the decor was a tasteful creme color, and the chandeliers gave a welcoming golden light to everyone under it, with Nicky’s brown eyes looking like a setting sun over still waters.
“Care for a quick drink?”
Soledad nodded, and her favorite mob boss led her to a study furnished with heavy mahogany shelves and plush velvet seats. She carefully mapped the layout of the house in her head, a habit of her’s that was born from paranoia and grew into a faint buzz at the back of her mind, like how some people ran their hands through shelves in the grocery.
Nicky mixed her an Old Fashioned as she sunk into an armchair, tucking her legs under her. It was difficult for her to be on her guard with Nicky for too long; there was something about him that made her feel at ease, like how one feels after a good massage.
Soledad nursed her drink in its perfect crystal tumbler as Nicky told her of his place, his position, before she stumbled into the Twenties. His eyes were a hard amber as he talked about being the head of one of New York’s Five Families, of being on the cover of every paper in town, of being young and dangerous and flaunting cash. Soledad could see it happening; she could see how the very same man that made her drink and called her cute pet names was also the kind of man that dipped more than his toe in bootlegging and crime. Maybe it was in how he carried himself, or the way he talked– whatever it was, Sol knew power when she saw it, and Nicky Valentino oozed it.
“Look, Sol.” His brows were set and stern. “I got a lot of regrets about the things I done. There’s a lot of wrongs I can never right, and that’s why I got out. The big house never scared me more than the big sleep.”
His face softened a bit, as if he was sharing a fond memory. “But becoming a man; seeing the consequences of my actions…”
Nicky Valentino’s wandering eyes settled on Sol’s, and she could see forests of unexplored secrets in their depths.
“That’s why I left. Easier said than done, though.”
Sol watched his face get flustered, ears heating up, as she took a final sip of her drink, tilting it back.
“Trouble just seems to find you, huh?”
“I have myself to thank for that. But worst comes to worst, I still got my secret headquarters.”
Sol smiled, cradling the crystal glass in her hands. “You’ll have to show me, someday. Just in case.”
Nicky returned her smile. “Of course,” he said, almost whispering. “I got one last place to show you, if you’d let me.”
Their footsteps were quick in the quiet night, as if they were teenagers slipping from shadow to shadow, scared of being found out. Nicky held her hand like it was glass, idly taking note of how light it was, and where her hands were calloused and where it was smooth.
The night breeze was fierce, blowing white curtains into the house like spectres, half-alive and half in love, reaching for something. Soledad walked beside him, and under the moon she looked like she was dreaming, in another place that didn’t exist. He brought her to a swimming pool, smiling under the stars.
“I’m going to dip my feet in for a hot second,” he said. Soledad followed him, and they sat at the edge of the pool’s deep end together.
“Trust me, Nicky,” she muttered. “Every second with you is a hot second.”
“Yeah,” he blushed. “But you’re cold aren’t ya? Here, take my coat.”
He took his black coat off, wrapping it around her; Sol was grateful for the sudden warmth that it gave her. She breathed in deeply; it smelled like smoke and cognac.
They spent a few minutes in silence. Sol knew that there wasn’t a need to say anything. It had been a long day, and she was grateful for quiet moments like these. The oceans in her stomach settled when Nicky held her this way, when they both looked at the deep blue pool together.
“My ma used to tell me, ‘Your soulmate is somewhere out there looking at that same moon.”
Sol smiled. “Oh? And did you listen to her?”
“I was more concerned about finding out how I could sneak into the Polo Grounds and catch a ball game.”
They shared a smile.
“But now,” Sol said, “you’re a romantic.”
“Yeah, now I am.” They were both quiet for a heartbeat. “What about you? Is you a romantic?”
Sol looked away from Nicky and the moon, her smile getting sadder. “I never let myself think about romance,” she said. “Like I said, you don’t get to be twenty-nine years old with no boyfriend, ever, without a bit of paranoia.”
“How about me?” Nicky’s gaze was heated, focused on her.
“What about you?”
“What happened? You met me and figured out the power of true love?”
Soledad snorted, rolling her eyes. “Not everyone goes out and buys jewelry for their future lovers, Don Juan.”
“When it comes to love, everyone’s got a chip and a chair,” he chuckled. “So long as you got a single chip and a seat at the table, you still got a shot.”
“You really are a romantic,” Sol huffed, grinning.
Nicky wrapped his arm around her; there was something behind her eyes that was still closed off to him, but he could see that she was keeping something close to her chest. He had seen that look before in the mirror, and he knew that whatever she was keeping close to her, she didn’t want to let go of yet. Nicky didn’t want to take it from her hands.
“It’s been a long day,” he said, not noticing how his voice dropped to a lower octave. “We should both hit the sack.”
Sol nodded, and the new goosebumps on her arm were not from the cold. “Where’s my room?”
“Take a hard left down the hall,” he replied. “You can’t miss it.”
***
Soledad had changed into an oversized polo shirt and baggy shorts that she had found in the dresser, and had already settled on a makeshift bed on the floor. There was something about fluffy mattresses that made her feel like she was drowning, so she took the heavy comforter from the bed and a pillow, fashioning a spot that vaguely resembled a sleeping bag.
There was a gentle knock on her door, and Nicky’s face peeped in. Surprise colored his face, and Sol smiled back sheepishly. She didn’t know why she felt embarrassed at being seen trying to sleep on the floor– she did it many times back home, never caring about other people’s perception of her. But the way that Nicky looked a little bit concerned had her face flushing.
It’s because it’s his house, she thought to herself.
“Force of habit,” she explained, sitting up from the floor. “I, uh, don’t really like soft beds.”
Nicky nodded, pretending as though he understood. “Army training, huh?”
“Army training.”
He hummed lightly, rolling on his heels. “Would you like a quick nightcap?”
Nicky showed her the two mugs he was holding.
“What’s that? Coffee?”
“Coffee? At this hour? Do I look like a barbarian to you?”
“Sorry if I have a caffeine addiction,” Sol muttered. “It takes three cups to wake me up. Besides, coffee can be had any time.”
“Not if you’re Italian.” Nicky looked mildly embarrassed. “No coffee after breakfast. That’s how it’s done in the old country. So what will you have? Tea or hot chocolate?”
“The hot chocolate, please. I may be a coffee addict, but my true love is hot chocolate. I should really make you a cup some time. My recipe predates the Americans.”
Nicky smiled at her rambling as he walked over to her and gave her the cup. “Something sweet for my something sweet,” he said.
Soledad took a sip. “It’s good, but trust me when I say that mine is better.”
“Oh? And what’s it like?”
“Thicker.” Soledad blushed, hoping that he didn’t notice the double entendre. “Less sweet, more bitter. But the cacao from Davao? The best, the absolute best, I tell you.”
“My ma used to make hot coco, too.” Nicky sat on top of the bed, which was stripped of its blankets. “And I remember that she did make it thick. But my pa didn’t like it, because apparently anything that brings any kind of joy didn’t make you a man in his eyes. The irony, coming from a man whose soul was crushed by the factory.”
Nicky’s eyes were still tender, and Sol was jealous that he was able to talk about his father that easily.
“Well,” Nicky said, standing up. “We best get to bed already. It’s going to be busy tomorrow.”
Sol remembered some things that Ralph had mentioned on the trip to the Hamptons. “Long day at your lawyers’ office?”
Nicky shrugged. “Can’t always be getaway cars and police men on your tail.”
They shared a look with each other before Nicky headed to the door. He opened it, and Sol memorised the way he looked like, before pausing. Nicky held her gaze one more time.
“I’ve chased it before; that danger. You can get hurt. Go after it long enough and you will get hurt.”
“I know,” Soledad said. She said it so quietly, she wasn’t sure if Nicky heard her.
“I just wanna be honest with you, as someone who’s been there, done that. I just don’t want to put you in harm’s way.”
Soledad sighed, sitting up straighter. She wondered what he thought of her, sitting on the floor wearing what might be his shirt.
“I’m here for you,” she told him, and it was as simple as that. “I’m not here looking for a thrill, or for money. I’ve had enough of that in my old life, and I’m used to it and the demons that come along with it. So I’m here for you, Nicky, and I’m ready to stay with you.”
“You’re one of a kind, you know that?”
They smiled at each other, and Sol forgot how to breathe.
“Takes one to know one.”
Nicky turned off the light, closing the door behind him as gently as he could.
***
That night, Soledad dreamt of the midday sun on the top of her head. There were gunshots, but she couldn’t hear them. She only knew how they felt, because with every beat of her heart a new one was fired. There was a familiar weight in her hand, and her trigger finger squeezed. Bullets flew and people died like leaves falling from acacia trees.
***
She woke up to orange stains in the sky. The sun greeted her, as though they were lifelong friends. Her hands folded blankets and fluffed pillows with no thinking on her part. This was routine, and Soledad knew the rhythm of it. The only thing that was missing, she thought to herself, were small lizards and the occasional cockroach. Sol smiled; she didn’t miss those things.
She changed back into her yellow dress, for propriety’s sake, before setting off to the direction that she deduced the kitchen was. As luck would have had it, she was right, and before she set foot in the place she could already smell breakfast.
“Good morning,” she said softly. “Can I help you in any way?”
A stout woman with wild curly hair came up to her, wiping uncooked batter on her white apron. “And who might you be, missy?”
“Soledad Diaz, ma’am.”
The older woman shook her head, muttering something about a new hire, before ordering her to chop onions. Soledad smiled, not wanting to correct the chef, and got to work.
There was something about holding a knife that she enjoyed, and she did her part in making breakfast. There were four of them working; the stout woman, a younger black man, an old hispanic lady that spoke in broken English, and Soledad. She had traded a few words with the woman (“de donde eres?” Sol asked. “Cuba,” the old lady replied, smiling through the steam that rose from a nearby pot. “Cuba.”).
Bridget, Joshua, and Mamita. Soledad enjoyed working alongside them, but soon excused herself, saying that she needed to go to the bathroom. Bridget had let her go with a wave of her hand, not taking her eyes off the sausages that she was frying.
Sol went back to her room, humming a song from her youth. She idly wondered if Mamita knew any Spanish songs that she knew, and suddenly Sol missed the guitar that she left back home in the Philippines.
Her thoughts came to a stop as she spotted a familiar face holding a basket full of petals, back facing her.
“Nicky?”
He turned to look at her, blushing harder than he ever had since she met him. It was adorable, and she laughed, only a little bit sorry that it was at his expense. He scratched the back of his head, and Sol idly looked him up and down. He was only wearing dark blue slacks and a white button down, but he looked good. Better, even.
“I didn’t know you were already up, toots. Army training?”
Soledad nodded. “Army training. Anyway, what are you doing? That’s going to be a pain to clean up.”
Nicky crossed his arms, and she could see his muscles underneath. “I wanted to surprise you when you woke up, but I guess you’re the one that surprised me. Breakfast’ll be in an hour yet, so maybe we can move to the veranda? It’s got a view of the pool.”
“Trust me,” she smiled. “I know that breakfast is coming in an hour.”
…
A/N: no beta we die like men. literally just finished this five minutes ago. i have no idea where this story is going, so i’m just sprinkling seeds for future angst that may or may not sprout. uh, in this chapter i tried to go for a more prose-y style, and i wanted to sort of start a bit the nationalistic streaks of sol here, since i figured that she’d have to be somewhat in love with her country, since she was a soldier.
i’m a little concerned that the romance part between sol and nicky is fast, but since it’s fast in canon, i suppose it’s alright for now. especially since they both have skeletons in their closet, that again, may or may not pop up later.
if yall have any suggestions, or anything that u wanna see, please tell me!!! do yall want scenes that are mainly canon compliant, or divergent? should i include more of the canon dialogue? i love feedback, mainly because i don’t have a lot of people to brainstorm with, so pls dont hesitate to drop me a dm!!!
