secret ☆ giorno giovanna x reader

XXI. [rush]

"Go."

"Damn, I'm going! The car can only go so fast, Giorno! You already saw her - she can fend for herself for the time being. Just wait," Mista replies aggravatedly, eyes focused on the road ahead of him.

The other chooses to ignore the response and instead brings up other conversation in preparation. "I want to make sure you're ready. What's our plan?"

Narancia snickers in the back seat, Fugo shaking his head and Bruno scolding him in response while Abbacchio rubbed his temples. They were quite squished - four grown men in a seat that was supposed to hold three. Narancia was nearly sitting on Bruno and Abbacchio's laps at this point, one half on either man's leg. Ah, the luxury that Giorno had in the passenger seat, and Mista in the driver's, though it may not be so good for the latter because he's being impatiently rushed by the other.

"Yeah, yeah," Mista frowns. "First, we drop you off in the front, and then we'll drive around the back and enter that way."

"And we'll focus on distracting and incapacitating enemies rather than defeating them," Abbacchio sighs in annoyance.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Narancia pipes up. "And that's to save time, right?"

Giorno sternly nods.

"See, Fugo? I'm not stupid! I-..."

The energetic soon cuts himself off in a drawl as Bruno taps him on the shoulder, and that's when he gets a good look at Giorno's solemn face.

"...W-What happened?"

"We don't have six hours like we thought."

"What do you mean?" Bruno responds.

"We have one."

"What?!" Mista nearly swerves on the road, and he is so glad that there's no one else driving on the same route at this hour.

"The pompinaro messaged us and changed his mind."

Narancia covers his mouth with his hand, biting his lip in confliction. He knew it was a serious situation and that the one hour's time instead of the generous six hours was really bad, but Giorno, who barely swears at all, just called Rosario a cocksucker and that was the worst he's ever heard come out of the younger's mouth.

Bruno wanted to scold him, too, but he knew all too well what he was feeling and decided to leave him be.

Fugo checks his watch for the fifth time that evening. It's seven o'four in the evening. He was glad Mista wasn't aware of the time.

At this point, they could see the building in the distance, the group visibly tensing and Mista tightening his grip on the steering wheel.

It was a tall office building, much like the one they had spotted across the street. Remembering the footage, they figured that you must be on one of the highest floors, if not the highest.

They have one hour to make their way through eleven stories; ten floors to ascend, and probably without an elevator, lest it breaks and leaves them stranded or there's none available at all.

To make matters worse, the floors aren't small, either. Scouring each floor could take minutes, which doesn't seem like a long time, but it's hours in comparison to the time they have at hand.

At least they had a plan.

They decided upon making their way up to the highest floor first, which would undoubtedly take the most time, expecting multiple enemies to block their way.

Then they'd search that floor. If they found you, they'd leave. If they didn't, they'd search the rest of the floors, descending from the top, which saved them time from going through the lower levels that obviously didn't have you in them.