Fiore (Giorno x oc)

2

The wind whipped against my shoulders as I hit sharp corners and narrowly missed muddy puddles.

I raced in grasslands to avoid hurting others, and it had natural obstacles.

I only had to get past one opponent to get to first, and then I had the race.

Speeding around the dirt track, leaving billows of dust behind me, I finally neared the bright white car in front of me and quickly passed it, leaving it behind as I drove farther and farther.

I neared one of my favorite parts of the track, when suddenly, I felt a burst of air behind me as my bike flipped over the small bump in the path and crashed in the grass.

I pulled my legs out from the mess of metal with a sharp pain shooting through them and saw that one of my tires had burst.

“Milkshake!” I quietly shouted, and the pastel colored stand appeared in front of me.

I felt my energy slightly drain as Milkshake handed me a small cupcake.

“Thanks,” I panted, pulling off my helmet and eating the cupcake. The pain in my legs immediately disappeared and I felt my energy come back.

“Sir! Are you ok!?” shouted an unfamiliar voice.

“Yeah, I think I am!” I shouted back.

“Oh,” the voice said as it got closer, “I’m sorry ma’am, let me help you up!”

A man’s hand appeared in front of my face and I hesitantly grabbed it.

He pulled me up out of the grass, and I could finally see what he looked like.

He was wearing a cropped blue shirt with white lines slicing through it, and tiger print pants.

“It’s fine, but I totaled my bike!” I exclaimed.

“I’m sorry, but you nearly hit me!” the man shouted.

I paused and saw that he had a pistol in his hand.

“You did it!” I shouted.

“I’m sorry! Cristo Farò orecchie da mercante per questo(christ I’m gonna get an earful for this),” he said under his breath, “Wellll the least I can do is offer you some food, it’s on me!”

I groaned.

“Fine.”

-------------------------------

We entered a small restaurant in a nice neighbourhood.

“I’m surprised you can afford food from a place like this,” I hissed.

“I can do whatever I want, being in the mafia and all,” he shrugged.

I felt the blood drain from my face, regretting every word I had said previously.

He led me through the restaurant. I felt eyes staring holes through me.

Maybe it was because I was with a member of the mafia?

We passed a mirror, where I saw there was blood on my face, and I began to panic.

“Why didn’t you tell me I had blood on my face!?” I whispered.

“Oh, you do. I’ll get you a napkin,” he said calmly, as if this happened every day.

Well, it probably did.

We approached a table in the back of the restaurant in a separate room where two other people sat.

I immediately recognized one.

“Trish!” I exclaimed, running over to my pink haired friend.

“Fiore!” she shouted, embracing me with joy filling her voice.

“How are you?” I squealed, finally letting her go.

“I’m fine! You don’t look too good,” she said awkwardly as she examined my face before offering a seat at the table to me.

“Yeah, ask the checkerboard,” I said sarcastically, gesturing to the man who had brought me here.

“Mista!” she shouted.

“What!? She was a street racer and she almost hit me!” he shouted back.

As the two bickered I turned my attention to the man across the table from me.

He had blonde hair with three swirls in the front and a braid in the back.

He wore a purple and gold suit with a cutout in the front and two ladybug brooches on his chest.

He stared out a window but his mind seemed somewhere else.

He was…… handsome, beautiful even.

“Giorno!” Mista shouted.

“Hm?” the man hummed, turning towards the others.

“Trish says that I shouldn’t have shot the tire on this girl’s motorcycle, but what else am I supposed to do to stop street racers!? Jump in front of the cars!?” Mista exclaimed.

Giorno quickly stifled a small chuckle before sighing.

“Well, she’s covered in blood. So maybe you should have thought your plan out more carefully before acting,” he said with a smile.

“I told you!” Trish exclaimed with a smile before sitting back down in her chair, and throwing one leg over the other.

“So I know Trish, you’re Mista, and your name is Giorno?” I questioned.

Giorno’s eyes slightly sparkled.

“Yes, I’m Giorno Giovanna, that’s Guido Mista, and you already know Trish Una,” Giorno explained, a genuine smile covering his face.

“Nice to meet you Giorno Giovanna, I’m Fiore Nijimura,” I said, holding my hand out for him to shake, and he did.

--------------------------------------

I brought Giorno, Trish, and Mista back to where my bike had crashed so they could help me carry it back to my apartment garage.

We dragged the bike through the streets, finally reaching my small home.

As me, Trish, and Mista brought the car into the garage, Giorno stood outside.

When we finally secured the motorcycle inside, we filed outside.

“Here,” Giorno said, holding a tiny flower, “it’s not much and it won’t fix your bike but it’s the least I can do.”

I raised a brow at the tiny flower, but smiled and accepted the gift.

I waved goodbye to my friends and Mista, before walking back inside with the flower tucked behind my ear.

I placed the flower on the table and left to go take a shower.

20 minutes later I came back with a bathrobe wrapped around my body, to see that the flower was gone, and in its place was a large amount of lyra and a small note with a number and an address.

“Well that’s odd,” I said with a small smile.

“Nicely played Giovanna.”