secret ☆ giorno giovanna x reader

XXVII. [reality's finally better]

"You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams." Dr. Seuss.

"It's fine. I can sleep in the guest room, you know. You shouldn't have to let me sleep in your bed just because I'm here." You look away, arms crossed to hide the fact that you had taken off your bra to sleep comfortably.

"No, it's dusty anyway. I wouldn't wish for you to become ill."

"I said it's fine."

"And I said no."

You frown, eyes furrowed as you gather the courage to look him in the eye. His look softens, his green eyes that sparkled like champagne brightening as if they were reflecting the pristine, unfiltered light of the stars themselves.

"Please?" he turns his head, shrugging his shoulders and rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. You say I wouldn't be able to sleep well in the guest room in lieu of my own bed, but I couldn't sleep at all knowing you'd be anywhere but in the comfort here. "For me?"

You sigh, hesitantly nodding your head in unwanted agreement. Your hair jostles smoothly with the movement, silky from the shower you took earlier before you had changed into Giorno's clothes. You took note of the brand of Giorno's shampoo because it was the best your hair had ever felt.

You conscientiously crawl under the maroon sheets, pulling his shirt down over your thighs as you lay down and pull the velvet covers over your figure. While you're diligent adjusting the plush pillow beneath your head, Giorno steps more proximate and pulls the covers a little further over your body to tuck you in.

You freeze in place, eyes meeting his honeydew green, but he doesn't take notice. Instead, he goes to adjust your pillow for you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and gently patting the cushiony object below your head before his hands hover over to where he smooths the covers above your figure.

You quietly abstain a shudder as you feel his fingers run over the cloth, his digits separated from your body by less than a mere inch of fabric.

Your hands cover the lower half of your face, your thoughts filled with nothing but the wish to hide from him underneath the covers. Unfortunately, he'd take notice, which would cause the gesture to be counterproductive.

"Put your arms under the covers, it gets pretty cold later in the night."

Your face instantly goes red knowing that he took notice of your hands, and you begin to doubt him because the room began to feel so hot. Nonetheless, you comply, arms gradually snaking under the covers and giving his eyes full access to your flushed face in the process.

Giorno tucks you in further once more while you admire the curve of his jaw as he stretches over to grab the edge of the sheets... the way his clavicle ran contiguous to his adam's apple, smoothly connected to his collarbones that seemed to curve so beautifully around his jugular.

You felt like a predator, observing how pure, pale, and unmarked his skin looked, thoughts of how you could kiss and bite the tissue overruling any others you had in mind. It was virtually arousing, thinking about how perfect he was in the simplest of places. He nearly had the complexion of a vampire, but you were the one thinking like a vampire at the moment.

You imagined smoothing your own fingers up the nape of his neck, running them through his golden blonde locks and gripping them tightly; you were pondering what beautiful reaction he would have because you knew that if he had even a single drop of submissiveness in him, that action would break his exterior completely.

You felt so carnivorous, truly worthy of the title of Pantera. If only you were bold enough.

"Uh... are you okay? You're not responding."