Work Text:
...it's us against the world.
Daniel Castellano was a fairly confident man. He had his insecurities hidden beneath the surface of his cocksure attitude, ready to burst forth with any word which had the power to twist its way into his very soul. But they were hidden still.
He knew what to do with women. He knew how to drive them wild, even if he didn't quite know how he did it and would surely fail at every attempt to recreate the moment. His need to try too hard, to overachieve, to do one better than he was naturally capable of doing, often was his downfall. He was doing well enough, eliciting the kind of reactions from women some men could only dream of, yet he just had to try harder. And it was never really the same again. But he was confident still.
But with Mindy? Oh no. Oh, she had a habit of luring out each and every one of his insecurities with her gentle (and sometimes not-so-gentle) prodding. It was as if they all marched out to some unknown tune only she knew how to sing. His body betrayed him all because she was the siren of his life.
He hated it at first, sure, but his insecurities felt safe with her. Of course, she mocked him a little here and there but that was just the way she was. He accepted that much a long time ago. He wished she would tone it down a bit in public though - was it really necessary to lecture him about which deodorant will actually be the most effective for his 'sweaty little glands' in the middle of Target? Still he had turned soft around her. He couldn't find it in himself to be genuinely mad at her. One sheepish look from her and he would come undone.
The minute he walked through Mindy's door, his insecurities ran out to play, nestling in their own little corners in the safety of her apartment. He hadn't felt this way in what felt like far too long. It had only been a few months since he had last been here yet it seemed like a lifetime ago. The nerves took over, his 'sweaty little glands' went into overdrive. He could barely handle this. This was it. This was everything he had ever wanted. He finally got his second chance and he'll be damned if he did anything to fuck it up again.
But what if he did fuck things up? What if she one day decided that he wasn't enough? What if she woke up one morning and didn't love him anymore? These thoughts plagued him, gripping the contented daze he was in up until now and ripping it apart, fighting its way inside of him, burrowing into him. He looked at her as she moved around her space, unconsciously swaying her hips as she picked up stray pieces of clothing, mumbling some half-hearted apology about how her apartment is a mess.
She looks back at him, expecting a snarky response, and furrows her brow when she doesn't get one. There's nothing he can say. There is nothing that feels right coming out of his mouth, all words dying before they could even make it past his lips. He just stares at her, taking in every inch of her now that he can again. She comes up to him, slowly, steadily, resting her palms against his chest. He immediately places his own hands atop hers, allowing a small smile to tug at his lips. He looks down at her, eyes both soft and probing, trying to peer into her soul. He doesn't know what he's looking for in there but he'll know when he finds it.
She frees a hand from his grasp and lets her fingers dance against his hairline, her hand finding its resting place against his cheek. She moves to swipe her thumb across his cheek and watches as his smile grows. He can't help it. He turns a little, planting a tiny kiss against her palm and closes his eyes as he revels in being surrounded by everything that's her.
He's not even sure how he ended up here. Not just on her bed but in this moment. Everything that could go wrong did go wrong and yet here he is, his arms around the woman he loves. Daniel Castellano is a lucky man.
She pushes him back on to the bed and he's ready to bring her down with him. He's not going to let her go again. He can't let her go again. But she carefully manoeuvres herself off him, her bare feet hitting the floor one at a time. He makes a sound he's not entirely proud of as he reaches for her but she pushes him back, quieting him with a quick kiss and saying that she has to freshen up.
He wants to tell her he'll take her dirty but he doesn't quite know how to say it without making it sound sexual. So he keeps quiet and obediently waits for her to come back. He knows he could be here a while.
It's dangerous to be left alone with his own thoughts.
He keeps going over how he ended up here, how he got everything he wanted. There must be a catch. There's always a catch.
For a minute he thinks that maybe that cab knocked him unconscious. He thinks that maybe he's currently lying in some hospital bed, hooked up to some machines, and the only people there are his Ma and Richie. Two out of three of the most important people in his life isn't half bad, he tries to reason with his comatose self.
He's not entirely sure he would want to wake up from that reality. So he pushes it aside and focuses instead on his current reality. The one that he knows is happening.
He can hear her off-key singing floating towards him from the confines of her bathroom and it brings him firmly back to now. Her familiar scent surrounds him, warms him inside and out, wraps itself around him, enveloping him in a cocoon.
He still can't help but be afraid. What if she eventually leaves him? His father did. Christina did. Why wouldn't she? She'd leave him just for being himself. He'll give her everything and bend over backwards for her and she'll leave him anyway. They always leave. They always take everything he does for granted and leave him behind without looking back. Invariably, he's left with nothing else to do but to mend the broken pieces of her heart, taping it back together in such a way that it gets harder and harder from someone else to have access to it. He doesn't want to do that again. He wants her to be the last person he gives his heart to and he wants her to look after it, care for it like he knows she's capable of doing. If she leaves him, she'll be taking his heart with him. He knows he won't have the ability to love anyone else again. This is it for him. He just fears it may not be it for her.
Maybe he should stop thinking like that. She gave him a second chance after all. But she has given so many jerks a second chance before him. It's different with him, he knows it is. She has thought she's found the one before and look what happened there? He knows she not only loves him but knows how to love him. She hasn't even told you she loves you yet.
He sighed heavily and brushed his palms against his thighs, standing up and trying to find something to distract him from the battle going on in his mind. He spots something familiar from the corner of his eye. A familiar pattern, a familiar fuzz. He picks up the small giraffe from where it was lodged between the bed and the nightstand. He brushes a few errant bits of dust off the giraffe's head and pats it fondly before looking around, hoping he hadn't just been caught having a moment with a stuffed giraffe.
He wonders how it got here until he remembers handing it over to her when she was sick. He felt bad about her being stood up at the Empire State Building and came round with everything that cheered him up whenever he was sick: his famous zuppa, the Guinness World Book of Records and Mr Neck. He also brought a few of her favourite magazines with him just in case. She held on to Mr Neck, warmed by the fact that Daniel Castellano would even give him to her. She was careful with him, more careful than with anything else. She kept him out of the way when she drank her soup so as not to spill anything on him.
He smiled at the memory. Maybe he shouldn't worry so much. She's always been there for him. She's often been the one picking up the pieces, like he has done for her. Maybe they can stop doing that if they survive together. They can do that much. He can believe in them. He will believe in them.
He has found his way back on the bed, perched at the edge of it, still waiting for her to show up. He considers that maybe she has fallen asleep until he hears some things being knocked over followed by her cursing loudly. He chuckles to himself. It's the things like this that he has missed the moment.
It's all those times she has tried to be sexy and ended up tripping over her hastily discarded shoes. It's all those times he has had the good fortune of waking up before her, seizing the opportunity to stare at her with unabashed joy. It's all those times he has heard her rant passionately about some insignificant issue or another.
He thinks about what more she has in store for him. There has to be more. He only had the chance to be privy to some things before he ran like a coward. He knows he won't run this time - his feet won't let him even if he wanted to - so he allowed his mind to run free instead, thinking about everything else he has to look forward to from here on out.
His mind skips straight to the image of her on their wedding day and he freezes for a moment, his heart seizing. He is momentarily angry at himself for allowing his mind so much freedom that it went too far. Then he considers how ridiculous that sounds. But he doesn't want to marry her. Well, he does but not yet. Sure in the future he will ask her to marry him. But not now. He isn't even thinking about it.
Except it's all he can think about now.
Before long she emerges from the bathroom dressed in a hot pink negligee, approaching him cautiously, perhaps a little too cautiously. He can see that she's had the time to let her nerves get to her. Daniel Castellano is a fairly confident man though. His nerves are nowhere in sight as he stands to meet her the rest of the way.
'Hey,' he says softly, his eyes boring into her own, his hands resting on her hips, squeezing gently, making sure she's really there.
She looks up at him through her lashes, coy all of a sudden, and she bites her lip nervously before allowing herself a tentative smile. 'Hey,' she whispers, giving him that sheepish look that completely unravels him.
He definitely wants to marry her.