Work With Me -Bruno Buccellati x Reader-

13- Going home

Giorno is the first to greet you. He extends a hand silently, and you take it, trying your best to smile. He's intimidating, in his black don suit that makes his hair an even brighter blonde in comparison. You want to impress him, but you know after your outburst in the restaurant, it's going to be difficult. He doesn't say anything, though, but you can still feel the sweat on your palm after shaking his hand. 

Mista and Narancia follow, much more relaxed than the Don. Narancia even offers you a smile, which helps you relax. Abbacchio doesn't take your outstretched hand, only brushes past you into the kitchen. You drop your gaze, letting Bruno take the lead. He's still all smiles and welcomes, offering drinks and allowing you to catch your breath. You're still forcing a smile, but without all eyes on you it's a little easier. You sit down at the dining table, which you rarely used. With only you and Bruno, you normally just sit at the breakfast counter. But now, with six of you, the table was full. Bruno poured wine for Abbacchio and himself, and offered cold drinks to the others. You refused his offer for a drink, your hands in your lap, staring at the floor. Mista raised an eyebrow at you as he opened his can,

"Hey, Bruno, is she alright?"

"I'm fine-" You said, "I just don't feel too good."

Mista shrugged it off, which you were thankful for. Abbacchio glared at you from across the table, clearly he hadn't forgotten about what had happened. Or maybe he was just like that, from his dark, gloomy appearance, you guessed he acted this way with everyone. Narancia was scribbling in a notebook next to you, and the noise was oddly comforting. Bruno's team was a colourful cast, and the variety in their personalities was almost impossible. How could they work so well together? It was strange, really, but then again your own team hadn't been identical. 

Either way, you had promised to behave. So you did. You ate your lunch wordlessly, listening to the idle chatter between the others. Bruno spoke about the weather, as well as your visit to the beach. Bruno made it sound much more interesting than it had been, recounting the sun, the sand, and the sea. He made you sound much more interesting as well, especially when you fell into the water. You laughed along with him, and he turned to smile at you. 

~~~~~~~~

After eating, you helped Bruno clean up. You were washing the plates, when Abbacchio comes up to you, placing his own plate into the sink.

"I was wondering." He begins, leaning against the counter, "Where you used to live with your team."

"Why?" You asked, drying your hands on the towel, 

"I think I visited it once, your name seems familiar. Could you tell me where it was?"

You looked up at Abbacchio, "I don't think you have, I'm sure we haven't met before."

"It was some time ago, but I remember it was a nice place." He sipped on his wine, "It wouldn't hurt to tell me, would it?"

"I suppose not..." You hummed, "It was in Rome, do you want the address?"

"If you don't mind." 

You gave it to him, and Abbacchio gives you the first smile you've seen from him this whole time. It's polite, and you feel at ease. Maybe Abbacchio wasn't so bad after all, but you were still a little confused. Did he really know your team? You had never heard of him, the team had definitely never mentioned him. It was strange, how he apparently knew about them without you ever knowing him. You didn't think too much about it, going back to do the washing up as Abbacchio sauntered back over to the others without another word.

Abbacchio hummed to himself. He was on a train headed to the room, in his hand he held a scrap of paper with the address you had given him. He had written it down after leaving you at the sink, he couldn't afford to mess this up. Something wasn't right with the whole situation. Why would you believe such stupid rumours about who had snitched? Surely there was some real evidence somewhere? The Boss had his methods on finding people, but if the Boss had discovered it on his own, why would you ever think it was Buccellati? 

He looked out of the window and wondered about what he would find. It had been three years, and even though you had gotten over your hatred towards Bruno, Abbacchio just couldn't let it go. He had a bad feeling about it all, and as the train pulled into the station, Abbacchio snapped himself out of his thoughts. He was doing this for Bruno, he deserved to know who framed him in the very least.

Bruno had told him about his encounter with Cioccolata. You had been terrified, apparently, but Abbachio didn't know what to make of it. Had it been him? It would make sense, he had killed Sorbet and Gelato before, but still- why were you so scared of him? If you knew he had killed them, why would blame Bruno? It didn't add up, and Abbacchio grew more and more curious the closer he got to the destination. 

When he arrived, he was shocked. It was a seemingly plain villa just on the edge of the city. The walls were a pale blue, and the house looked as though it hadn't been lived in since you last occupied it. Abbacchio walked up the overgrown drive, weeds growing between the cracks in the bricks, the grass either side wild and thick. Vines were creeping up the front of the house, and the windows were grimy. Abbacchio kicked down the door with ease, finding the wood rotten and infested with termites. The stench of squatters was pungent, so somebody had been living here after all. He smiled at the thought, searching the rooms for any sign of the squadra that once occupied them. It was a quaint place, really, nothing like Bruno's modern beauty. But it seemed homely, he could see how you could enjoy living here with your teammates- your friends.

He couldn't find anything of note, even the squatters had moved on it seemed. The house was empty, so Abbacchio moved onto his backup plan.

"Moody Blues," He whispered, not wanting to disturb the stoic silence of the villa, "Rewind three years, take the form of Y/N."