First Love (Primer Amor) (Eng. Ver.) (GiornoxJolyne) (Giolyne)

Chapter 11

Naples, Italy

"I know you're in there. I can smell Mista from here."

Mista, with his back to the door, frowned. He turned his head slightly to the side, visibly offended. But then he remembered that this was Dio Brando himself; egomaniacal, stingy, petulant, vindictive and father of his best friend, Giorno.

Seeing Mista swallow hard, Trish perhaps knew what he was thinking. She summoned the courage to push him away from the door and the willingness to open it. Although, when she placed her white hand on the golden knob, she felt her hand shake. Mista hid behind her as if he were a frightened child. He watched nervously as she turned the knob and opened the door slowly, revealing a strong chest.

"Mr. Brando..." both said in unison at the chilling aura that he gave off. They looked up and up until they found a face of very marked expressions. That man was of such great stature that not even his head could be seen because he was taller than the frame. He was of a broad physique with an arrogant look and blond hair. Why did he so inopportunely have to go and ruin their peace of mind, especially when Giorno was not even in the country?

Ducking his head a little so he could enter a few steps, Dio saw the girl and the brunette more clearly. His brow furrowed when he didn't find a certain dyed golden head with a face similar to his own.

"Where is Haruno?" he asked without preamble or even a greeting. Trish was a little annoyed by his customary rudeness. Meanwhile, Mista noticed that the man was carrying a couple of suitcases by his sides.

"It's nice to see you too, Mr. Brando," Trish greeted with her hands on her hips, hinting about his rudeness. Of course, the man understood. However...

"Yeah, yeah! Hello, whatever..." Ignoring her, he wandered inside as if it were his own apartment as the other two watched on, stunned. "Haruno, it's your father!" He shouted with his palms towards the stairs, knowing they led to their rooms. Obviously, he received no response.

"Why are you carrying suitcases? Are you on a trip?" Mista suddenly asked, making the blond look down at his hands that were carrying luggage. With an expression apparently bored and at the same time serious, he looked at the youngsters as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The brunette, especially, looked like a fool.

"I'm staying here, you idiot." His tone was very dry, but that was the least of it when the meaning of that sentence sank in. What!?!!?

"What?" they thought and shouted out loud.

"But you don't mind, do you? The one who should care is my spoiled brat of a son, who doesn't deign to come down to greet me. I'm Dio Brando!"

"But Giorno isn't even here. How do you intend to...?"

"What? Haruno isn't here? Where did he go? To get milk or something? What the hell!" He leaned toward the apartment window to see if he could spot him from above. "Well, never mind, I'll wait for him."

Dio put aside his suitcases and sat on the couch with one leg crossed, his haughtiness ever present. Then he looked at the pair, perhaps a little offended.

"What are you guys waiting for? Are you going to offer me some wine or let Mista's stink finish off my eyebrows?" He folded his arms.

Rather than being offended by his deliberately walking in, insulting the brunette, and demanding the presence of his son by way of insults, Trish and Mista looked at each other with blank minds and wide eyes. They were unsure of what to do. They didn't know whether to lie to him or suffer his always irrational fury, especially when Giorno was involved.

"Mr. Brando, we already told you that Giorno is not here," Trish reiterated.

"I know that! But I'm not moving my ass out of here until I see him."