A warm breeze tickled your skin as you walked along by Bruno's side. The sun was beating down, coating Napoli in a dry summer heat, invigorating yet calming. It was a pleasant walk, with Bruno talking all the while, not expecting any response from you. He told you of his time here, the people that called out his name when he passed, the alleys that lurked between unsuspecting buildings. There was always something happening, and Bruno wanted to be a part of it all. You watched as he helped a child catch a butterfly that hovered around a florists. His hands that glasped gently around the creature, opening his fingers just enough for the child to peer inside. You smiled to yourself, as Bruno let the insect go, the colourful wings flapping as it went back to the flowers, the child thanking Bruno a thousand times over.
Bruno. When was it that you started thinking of him as that instead of Buccellati? You don't remember, but at one point you had stopped using his own sir name against him. As you looked at him now, speaking to the owner of an ice cream store, you wondered what had happened to you. Bruno made you feel warm, even as he offered you a cold treat on the hot summers day. There was a comfort in his name, the way it felt in your mind. You carried on walking, and he carried on retelling his stories. It was perfect, and you felt at ease for the first time in a long time.
"It's been so long since someone has lived with me," Bruno confessed eventually, "I've missed always being with someone else." He looked up at the sky, a bird flew overheard, singing some sweet tune or another,
"When was the last time?" You asked,
"Well, the last time would be..." He trailed off, "It would be when I went looking for Diavolo. I know I shouldn't miss that time, but it was nice to always have someone by my side."
You felt his hand reach up and stroke your hair absent-mindedly. The sensation felt familiar, but you couldn't think why. You caught his hand, felling the soft yet calloused skin against your own.
"Y/N, I like having you around. The past few days have been nice, I'm sorry for yelling at you."
"Don't apologise, it was my fault." You let go of his hand, it fell back to his side. His eyes were positively sparkling, the corners of his lips raised into a smile and he laughed,
"Well I'm glad you're not angry at me, come on then, lets look in here-"
And the moment was lost.
~~~~~~~~
"I was thinking of making you wear a uniform," Bruno explained, holding up a crisp white shirt, "I think it would make you look professional."
You shrugged, looking around at the racks of clothes surrounding you . You weren't always one for shopping, mostly because you didn't have always have enough money to pay for anything unnecessary. How long ago was it, since you had bought something purely because you wanted it? Outside of alcohol and cigarettes, the essentials were all you spent your money on, but now was different. As Bruno sorted through a collection of black skirts, searching for the perfect one, you smiled to yourself. The heaviness in your pocket was a nice, long-forgotten feeling. He handed you a skirt, and you took it to examine it yourself,
"I like it," You said, "But are you sure I need a uniform?"
"It's only right, you are my secretary."
You hadn't ever been asked to wear something specific, maybe a shirt of black trousers, but you never had a proper uniform. You almost declined him, rubbing the fabric of the skirt between your fingers, it was soft but sturdy. Bruno was circling you, holding up shirts and blazers, measuring sleeves against your arms, hands occasionally brushing against you. He brushed your hair behind your ear,
"Perhaps some jewellery too." He fiddled with your earlobe, whether pierced or not, Bruno was picturing earrings hanging down from the flesh. He smiled at you,
"I do like picking out outfits, but I rarely experiment with my own wardrobe,"
"I can see that." You replied, "But I'm not so sure..."
"Is it too much?"
"No, I'm just not sure its important."
Bruno tilted his head, "I believe it is, to keep the professionalism."
You pursed your lips in thinking. The clothes did feel nice, and you knew what Bruno meant. Work didn't feel like work, life with him didn't feel professional in the slightest. This uniform, it would remind the both of you where you stood- boss and secretary, nothing more.
Though, maybe neither of you wanted it that way.
"If you're sure, then ok." You handed the skirt back to Bruno, who was still deciding over what to pick out for you. He had a keen eye, and you trusted his judgement as the pile of clothing grew and grew. What started as just a uniform became an entire new wardrobe.
You grew anxious as the number racked up at the till. You began recounting your funds, and swallowed when the total went past what you could afford. You tugged in Bruno's sleeve,
"I can't afford this," You said, almost embarrassed, "I'm sorry, we'll have to put some of it back."
"Nonsense, just watch." Bruno pulled out his wallet,
"So what do I owe?" He asked, pulling out bills,
"Oh Mr Buccellati, I couldn't charge you," The cashier handed over an armful of bags, "Here, its on me."
Buccellati accepted it gratefully, passing half of the bags to you.
"Come on Y/N, let's go home."
You walked behind him, struggling with your hands full of bags, they were small and impractical, probably only holding about five items each. You watched Bruno's confident stride, the way he carried himself down the winding Napoli streets. You had walked them a few times now, with Bruno by your side, and still they were beautiful. The sun danced on his midnight blue hair, making it gleem and shine, like the ocean illuminated by starlight. You turned and looked out to the sea, how you longed to feel the cool water again. It had been so long- but with Bruno you felt strong enough to conquer it.
Bruno made you feel safe, he gave you some of his own courage, making you so much stronger than you were on your own. He held you up, and you felt indebted to him, because you could never repay him with such strength.
When you got inside, the bags were flung at the bottom of the stairs, and Bruno sat down on the sofa with a heavy sigh.
"Shopping is always exhausting," He patted the seat beside him, "sit with me."
You did, and almost immediately one of his arms were around your shoulders,
"There was something I've been meaning to ask you, its about last night." His fingers made their way to your neck, tracing it gently, mindlessly drawing shapes into your skin
"What's wrong?" You asked
"Y/N, try and remember, for me- please its important."
You thought back to the previous night, trying your hardest to think about what happened. You had a strange dream last night, one where Bruno was touching you while you laid back in the bath. His hands had caressed your skin, washing it diligently with a soft touch. It was such a hazy dream, one you weren't really sure what happened in it, but you could feel his hands on you, similar to how they held you now.
"I had a dream, you were in it." You looked up at him, shuffling closer so your head was beneath his chin.
"And what was I doing in your dream?" He asked,
"You were washing me, and then I think you wrapped me in a towel. It was a strange dream, I don't remember it all..." Your voice was hushed,
"It wasn't a dream," Bruno stroked your head, "When you came home, you fell asleep in the bath. I hope you don't mind."
"No, no, it was nice. I just wish I were more awake so I could've enjoyed it."
Bruno dropped his voice until it was nothing but a whisper, as if what he was about to say was a fatal secret, "We could always do it again..."
"Bruno..."
"Thats the first time you've called me that."
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't apologise, I liked it."
He was holding you so close, you could feel his breathe on your skin. Here, with him, you were so warm, so comfortable. You had never felt like this before, as if the world had stopped and only you and Bruno remained. Time didn't exist in this house, in this moment the world was still and you could forget everything outside of Bruno and his strong arms wrapped around you. Here, it was safe, and here the pain of your past couldn't haunt you. Bruno kept them locked out, and he protected you from the memories that hurt you so.
"Are you tired?" Bruno asked, fingers still exploring all they could touch, "You can sleep if you want,"
You closed your eyes, feeling his heartbeat beneath his suit. It was steady, and your breathing came to match his, the rise and fall of his chest coaxing you into sleep. Here, it was safe, Bruno would make sure of that.