Beautiful I.B.R [Book 2]

Pancake

Entering the manor, you stumbled to close the door, the shopping bags overloading your hands.

On the sofa, Mista sat, watching adult cartoons again. Recently, he's been closed off, only watching the TV. Most likely, this was his way to cope with all the death surrounding him. Trish sat on the sofa, legs curled up as she boredly watched the screen.

Jean was upstairs with Giorno, helping him learn how to do paperwork and such. They were also planning Risotto's journey over.

Trish, noticing your struggle with the shopping bags, stood off the sofa and went to help you. "Um, do you need help?" She asked, making you turn to face her.

As you turned, Trish saw your disfigured left side look at her, your teeth revealed through the thin transparent skin. "Yes, that would be nice, thank you" you replied, smiling as you held two bags out for her.

As she took them from your hands, fixated on your face, you shuffled your remaining bags equally in your hands, then walked towards the kitchen. Trailing behind you, Trish could feel the silicone face plate still within her deep pocket.

"Tell you what, Italians sure are rude" you commented idly, placing the bags on the kitchen counter, "One of them even had the gall to try call the police on me for 'disrupting the peace'" you said, unpacking the bags onto the counter.

Not knowing how to respond, Trish put the unpacked food away into their respective storage spaces. Hearing you hum a tune, she turned around and watched you pull out a glass mixing bowl and a whisk.

"Tell you what, Trish," you said, turning around to face her, "You help me make pancakes, and I'll let you have one extra".

Looking over you for a moment, a small smile appeared on her face for a moment before returning back to her neutral look. Walking over to you, she stood next to you as you placed a spatula on the table.

"Hey..." she said, making you turn your eyes towards her and hum.

Placing her hand in her pocket, she grabbed onto your face plate, then lifted it out for your viewing. "I picked this up when we were collecting the gang...I didn't get the chance to give it back" she mumbled, looking towards the kitchen counter.

Stunned, you looked at the object in her manicured hands, then smiled gently. "Thank you," you said, taking the face plate from her and adjusting it to fit your face comfortably.

Feeling a bit more secure, you looked back at Trish, nodding your head towards the kitchen table. "Want to sit down and wait? Or would you like to help?".

"Oh, I'll wait" she muttered, her eyes roaming over the utensils in wonder.

Eyes scanning over her slightly, you looked away towards the mixing bowl. Rolling up your sleeves, you got to work on some pancakes. "Sure, just let me know if you change your mind".

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A few days later, you were sat on the sofa, watching some cartoon Mista had put on. It was boring honestly, but you had nothing better to do while you waited for Jean's body to recover. Trish was sat by your slouched side, having warmed up to you slightly.

Over by the kitchen, Jean sat on the table, slowly munching on some watermelon as Giorno impatiently tapped on the table.

As if Giorno's prayers had been answered, a knock was heard on the door, making you pause the cartoon, causing Mista to let out an annoyed whine.

"That must be him," Giorno said to Jean, making him slow down his munching and watch the door curiously.

Opening the entry, a tall goth stood on the other side, his red eyes staring down at the new Boss, whose green eyes shone back.

"Let's talk then" Risotto spoke, his deep voice rumbling as he ducked into the manor, making Giorno take a step back.

With hard determination, Giorno stared back at the man, almost in a silent battle for dominance. The blonde won, since Risotto turned his attention to you, who stared back.

With a happy grin, you waved at him lazily, "Good to see you, Ris".

Nodding at you in acknowledgement, Risotto followed Giorno through the living room, stopping when The Boss did. Turning to you, Giorno curled his finger at you, signalling you to follow.

With a confused quirk of your brow, you stood up, throwing the remote towards Mista, who complained when the remote hit his finger with a smack.