𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐊, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓-𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 | vento aureo

diciotto: AN OLD FORGOTTEN NOTE

"Giorno, I need to talk to you. Come with me, please."

You were well aware that the combination of words struck anxiety within the man's heart. You did purposefully say it in such a way that held much more seriousness than your usual tone.

He wordlessly followed as you walked into the familiar hallway to the library, and used the old elevator to your secret archives, again, slowly going back below grown, keeping quiet the entire time.

It felt weird in a way, unnatural. Like something was supposed to be happening and you would have no control over it.

You picked up a photo book with yellowed pages, slowly and carefully turning to one you were looking for.

"Well, here goes nothing…"

"Y/N…? Is something wrong?" Why do you look so worried, he wanted to say, I don't want to see you worried like this. But he simply listened, patiently, for he knew you would always tell him what was bothering you.

"Giorno Giovanna. I want you, no, I need you to be completely honest with me. What I'm about to confess could change everything between us."

You hoped he wouldn't notice your elevated heartbeat or shaky hands. He didn't, thankfully, as he was distracted by his own sharp intake of a breath.

"Please, Giorno, promise me that you'll understand. I won't ask any more of you."

With his aquamarine eyes staring deep into your own, his head moved in a gentle nod. As your bodies drew near, he could feel the heat radiating off your own. You looked down at the book, at last finding exactly what you were looking for. Your fingers caressed one corner of the page. You've looked at the picture many times, the muscular back with a star mark on the shoulder, the blonde hair and the barely visible scar encircling the neck still unsettling, but now, it made you feel different, knowing what you knew.

His brows furrowed in confusion as he allowed his eyes to wander away from your face, which he had been carefully admiring, and to the picture you had before him.

But suddenly you changed your mind. You had good intentions, trying to bring the truth to light. Wanting to be honest with your friend. You knew, deep down, he was supposed to be more than a friend. The universe had bigger plans for him, and, implicitly, for you.

Something stopped you. A gut feeling, an unseen force, a spark of a decision that you didn't understand, but it was telling you to do something else entirely.

In a flash, you slammed the book shut. It's not time yet. Just as quickly, you shoved Giorno to sit in the armchair with strength he wasn't prepared for, and climbed on top of him, hands on his shoulders to keep him down as well as to steady yourself.

As your face hovered dangerously close above his, you could feel the surprise he held in his eyes, and you assumed he could feel the adoration you held in your heart. In that moment, you wondered if you were the one supposed to die in order to save him at one point, as have others before you. And maybe, if that moment ever came, you'd fully embrace it for him.

"Would you put your trust in a heart as wretched as mine?" You whispered, looking at his soft and inviting lips.

"I would warn you not to use such words so lightly, but you know what they hold. The lives we live are too dangerous for trust." His hands gently came to rest at your sides, fingers carefully caressing the fabric underneath.

"But would you still do it?"

"I'm still only human."

And throwing all caution aside, you crashed your lips on his, in a kiss so wonderfully tender. The intimacy of two lonely hearts, both of which had the world at their feet yet were never satisfied. And for a few seconds, you both understood that the weight of the world wasn't so heavy if you carried it together.