As Clear As Night [Dio×Reader]

Anxiety Filled Anticipation

The situation had gone even better than you expected. Regardless, your parents weren't going to let you go out on your own for a while. That was something you were willing to live with though. As long as it was only a few weeks.

"Now wash up and get ready for supper, dear. The cook will warm up your soup," Your father added before you departed to your room.

So that's what you did.

And one quick cold bath later, you were almost ready to have your supper, just checking to see if you looked appropriate in the reflection of the mirror. All that was left was to style your wet hair.

There was something you needed to reach for on top of the dresser, but you instantly forgot what it was when the sleeve of your dress slipped down and revealed a bandaged arm.

Even if it couldn't be seen from under the wraps, you still remembered precisely how the nasty mark decorated your wrist. You made a mental note to watch your arm so as to not accidentally expose it, for if your parents ever caught wind of it, they might start poking holes in your story. 

You already took care of the Erina's letter by sneakily hiding it between the wall and the back of the dresser's mirror. Your parents wouldn't ask before opening it, and the cleaners aren't trusted to not snatch it either. Two things to watch out for then. Pulling up the dress's sleeve to cover your arm, you continued.

The texture of your wet hair rubbed against your fingers as you began to detangle it. Smoothing it out so you could style it after. Smoothen... smooth? A strange underlying feeling hid behind that word.

Hm? Was there something related to the word that you forgot about? What was so peculiar about the word 'smooth'?... oh. Oh no.

The mirror reflected a scene of your halted hands, paused in the middle of a motion, and a cold spaced-out face.

The dinner. You managed to somehow forget about it on the ride here. For the last week or so Father kept stressing over how smoothly the dinner with the Joestars would go if everyone acted on their best behavior.

But right now, as you were styling your hair, your family downstairs were practicing their manners for a futile dinner for a business plan you'd already sabotaged! It's all useless, all done for! You tugged on your hair, wanting to pull it away from your scalp in punishment.

The second that Dio spots you, he's going to do everything in his power to screw you over. Even if you pretended to be sick for one day, you'd only be stalling the inevitable. Only you could fix this, but for that you'd need him to comply. Was that even possible? Maybe you should beg him for mercy? No, it wouldn't be that easy. What about some sort of promise to keep what happened a secret, some sort of treaty or deal... deal? Yes! A deal!

It could work, a way to fix your mistake and secure your family's wealth and reputation. But what could you possibly have to offer that would interest him? It would have to be something valuable because you don't go in cheap when making a deal with the devil- and without a shadow of a doubt- Dio was the devil's right-hand man.

You sat back up as if nothing happened and continued styling your hair. Proper posture and containment of emotions, just as you were always taught. Everything will be fine.

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You could only watch as the next few days blurred together. Nothing strange, nothing memorable, as routine as you could get. It might've been because of these conditions that your anxiety about the dinner was able to prosper and grow until anything related to food made your stomach churn. The two things that you did the most during this period were wait and think to yourself since thinking to yourself became your only form of entertainment.