Splinters in the glass

[Chance] pov:

---

It doesn't happen suddenly.No flash. No fall.Just a flicker.

I'm sitting on the carpeted floor in the Mafioso's living room, a steaming cup of tea in my hands, half awake, half somewhere else. The night is quiet, too quiet perhaps.

And then I see it.

Not with my eyes.With something else.

---

[Flashback - Chance]

A deck of cards dances in my hands. Fast, fluid, like water. I shuffle it as I always do-with a mischievous grin on my face, while the arcade lights flicker over my hat.

"Destiny lies in the cut, my friend."My voice-younger, warmer, more confident.

Across from me: the Mafioso. Younger, less affected by cynicism. He doesn't smoke. Not yet.He laughs at my jokes.Honest.Like someone who forgot they're holding a knife under the table.

I feel his attention. His warmth.Not threatening. Not waiting.Just there.As if, for a moment, I were more than a player.

---

[Back to the present]

I flinch. The tea almost spills over the rim of the cup.My heart is racing. My head is pounding.

This wasn't made up.This was real.I was there.I was him.

Chance.He still lives somewhere inside me-not as a ghost, not as a shadow. But as a part of me.

I stare at my hands. They're shaking slightly.

"Do you remember?"Mafioso's voice from the hallway. Calm. But with something... gentle.

I look at him.His eyes meet mine. No shock. No "I told you so."Just understanding. Deeper than I expected.

I nod slowly."A little. Just now. It was... before. I... was happy."

He leans against the doorframe.

"He had a talent for making you forget everything for a moment. Even yourself."

"Do you think that was his trick?""Maybe. Or his curse."

I lower my gaze.But a part of me... smiles.

---To be Continued...