Yesterday - Bucciarati Fanfiction

Chapter 3 - Chi s'assomiglia si piglia

Benito was finishing the display of the strawberry cake on the trolley when I stepped inside the room, putting the dirty plates in the dishwasher. "Hey Zío, are there any gnocchi left? I forgot to grab something to eat before coming to work." I told him sheepishly.

Knowing Benito, he was debating on whether he should berate me, see he always tells me that this restaurant is as much his house as it is mine. He always tells me that I can eat whatever I want, even use the ingredients in the kitchen to make something if I so desire; however, I always feel bad doing it. I know he gave me his permission, but I was not yet comfortable acting so freely, hence me asking for his permission again.

Giving me an exasperated look, I smiled timidly in response, Benito dropped what he was doing and put his hands on my cheeks. "Gattina, how many times do I have to tell you?" he said with fatherly gaze, I knew his earlier exasperation was just playful, he truly loved me as a daughter. "I'll prepare those gnocchi for you; I'll even make some for you to take home. Now bring the tray to those young men." He said delicately pushing me towards the handles of the trolley.

Alright, final entry in this god forbidden area. I don't know why I felt so tense every time I went in there, they seemed to have calmed down since learning I had a stand... but I know they were still wary of me. As I pushed the trolly through the door, Narancia and Mista look at the cake with true hunger, or burning passion I did not know. Grinning I pushed the trolley to their table and stepped back to let them serve themselves. The two craving mafiosos stood up, grabbed their plate and took two part each. Before leaving them to enjoy their dessert, I looked the don and his right-hand man who were smiling slightly. "If you need anything else, call me" I said with a smile, turning around expecting them to be silent.

"Signora Coda, would you please come here?" Dio mio, if they start interrogating me once more, I'm going to use my trump card. As I made my way towards Bucciarati, I couldn't help but dream about finally going home and unwind all this tension that has been built up in the span of one evening with those mafiosos. Once I was next to the Capo, I realized the Don had his back turned to me, his chair was facing the younger black-haired man, which meant that he truly did not fear for his life when I was around. If I'm not a threat, what does he want... I pondered, hesitantly meeting the Capo's gaze.

"Is there a problem?" I asked calmly, clasping my hands behind my back as a way to no fidget too much. He tilted his head forward a moment before standing up. His form was towering over mine; I could not quite guess his height but he was taller than I was, which was intimidating. There seemed to be a tension around us, he slowly raised his hand towards my face- "Signore what are you doing?" I hissed, his wrist now in my hand. Glaring at him, he seemed unphased by my actions, so much that he chuckled, a small smile painted across his face.

Gently freeing his wrist from my hand, he started "Cara, I am sorry if I startled you." Taking a step back, I was still confused, blame it on my lack of social interactions during my college years, but are every mafioso this cocky? Or is it just this one raven-haired cazzo? No matter how hot you are, you're not touching me. Still smiling he quirked a brow, "You have some frosting on your cheek." He explained, extending his hand once more to wipe the frosting from my face. Shit, Benito must have put it there accidently when he took my face between his hands.

Beaming a charming smile, he sat back and joined the conversation his friends were having, leaving me dumbfounded with, although clean, flushed cheeks. I rushed back to the kitchen with as much composure I could keep and slammed my palms on the counter, rattling my zío along the way. "Dio mio bambina, what is wrong?" he asked as he poured the sauce over the gnocchi. Breathing deeply, I stare at him intently: "That Capo, Bruno Bucciarati, will be the death of me. I swear to god Benito, is it allowed to be this handsome? Is that why he joined the mafia, because he was himself illegally hot?" I rambled foolishly to my uncle, shoving my face in my hands as I let out of heavy sigh. A few moments went by to finally regain my cool. Looking back up, Benito was smiling mischievously while cleaning the pots he had used to cook.