♤Happy Fugio Friday! ♤

♡I only hope he forgives himself♡

I'm gonna call Donatello Versace, 'Versace' here, I just think it has a cool ring to it.

×HEAVILY OMORI INSPIRED, SO IT WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR OMORI×

×VERY SLIGHT SPOILERS FOR JOJO PART 6×

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He stormed into his room and shut the door, it's no surprise to anyone that he got into another argument with his parents.

Stress, expectations. All of it piled up on his shoulders like boulders. It's only a matter of time until he actually snaps.
He locked the door, making sure his father didn't run in and give him the lecture of a life time, he just needed some time to himself. Is that too much to ask for?

He stepped away from the door shortly after, sighing as he did. Soon enough, in the corner of his eye, he spotted a grand piano. Something his parents bought him for his birthday. He didn't think it'd be useful to him in the very least, but surprisingly, it served to calm him down whenever he'd play some of this favourite songs.

He made his way over to it, dragging his finger along it's pristine wood. He sat down on the chair and carefully, dragged his fingers along the tiles, slowly, but with purpose.
With time he closed his eyes, he didn't need to look at the object to know what he was doing. Plus, it was better this way, he felt lighter, and calmer. Just how it's supposed to b-

"That's a beautiful melody, did you make it yourself?" Fugo jumped in his seat, his heart racing fast. He shot his head around quickly, before letting out a quick, relieved sigh.

"Oh, it's just you, Giorno. Mind warning me before you appear out of nowhere?" He scoffed, turning his head away.

"Oh, I'm sorry. It won't happen again." Giorno responded. This Giorno guy, he was always bothering him when he got like this, like, angry and stuff. He'd show up out of nowhere and scare the shit out of him. Almost as if he was a ghost.
Fugo didn't like him much, but still, it was nice to have some company every now and then.

Silence took over again, Fugo was no longer in the mood to play the piano now that Mr.Buzzkill was here, and Giorno sat comfortably in the sofa next to the piano, brushing the hair of his very own handmade doll.

"Well, that song was very well played, especially for someone your age." He said, with the audacity not to look at at him.

"Don't patronize me." Fugo marched over to his bed, plopped down on it and stared at the ceiling.
"Besides, you don't even look like you're much older anyways." He scoffed. Giorno chuckled in response.

"Yeah you're right, I guess I shouldn't have said that." Fugo hated it when he did that, always agreeing with him. Why couldn't he just fight back anyways, huh? It was so damn infuriating.

"So, what's got you so worked up this time?" Giorno asked.

"None of your damn business," Fugo launched a pillow at him, which he caught and hugged close to his chest.
"and can you go now? I don't need any company, I'm fine on my freaking own." He hissed. Giorno laughed his rejections off.

"Well, it's not like I can just leave when I want to."

"Why not!?-" He yelled, but Giorno put a hand on his own lips. Signaling he needed him to be quiet.
"Don't be too loud, now, you're parents will get worried." He smiled. Fugo huffed and sat back down

"What do I care what they think? From the looks of things, they don't care about me." He said, changing his position to face the blank wall. Giorno hummed and crossed his legs again. He didn't speak again (thank goodness), he just sat at a standstill.