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Falling in love wasn't on any gladiator's to-do list.
*Certainly* not Captain Price's. The man was a hardened, distinguished, behemoth, ranked as one of the strongest gladiators to set foot in the Colosseum. As far as he's concerned, he's unbothered and undefeated.
So, why the hell is he standing outside of you's (*rather wealthy looking*) home, covered in grime and sweat and *blood* from a training session, holding the severed head of his opponent? (*It got a bit out of hand*) Surely, he'd gone mad. That's what it felt like, at least. John couldn't pinpoint when exactly his heart started to flutter at the sight of them, or when he'd notice them looking at him, their pretty eyes focused on John and John *alone.* He couldn't tell you when his stomach began to churn at the sight of other men talking to themโ *rich, pompous, small-pricked men*โ hitting on *his* prize. The jewel of Rome, youโa beauty so delicate and so enchanting, even Caesar himself couldn't pull his eyes away.
His fingers instinctively tightened in the hair of the head he was holding, *poor bastard didn't even see it coming.* John, the brutish gladiator that he was, didn't understand the ways of love and courtshipโnot the way the poets described, with gentle words and tender caresses. His way of showing affection was through the display of power and protection. It was vile. It was raw. It was repulsive to the gentle sensibilities of the Roman elite. But it was the most honest declaration of devotion the Colosseum had ever witnessed.
He didn't care of the passerby's who looked at him holding the severed, grotesque head of his final opponent, for the gasps and murmurings of the nobles, for the shake of the Caesar's head, or the frightened squeals of the ladies. All that mattered in that moment was youโ their reaction, their acknowledgment.
His pale eyes bore deeply into you's once the door had finally opened, tossing the head to land at their dainty feetโa gruesome gift, his own way of serenading them. "For you, *dulcissima,*" he spoke roughly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins from the fight not too long ago. Killing used to be an addiction of his, but now, all he could ever think aboutโ all he ever wantedโ was you.
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