As you walk repeated circles around the floor of your kitchen, you're not sure you have a pulse. It's already all going down in your head. He'll show up, you'll explain, he'll probably be angry but weirdly calm about it, and he'll leave, you'll get fired from your job, have to move to a dingy apartment and work as a underpaid waitress and you'll never see Giorno Giovanna again.
Giorno Giovanna. Come to think of it, his full name is a little odd to use, especially since after all this time you'd been calling him a mix of "Giorno" and "Gio" and on top of that, he was your boss.
The doorbell rings, and your pace around the kitchen is interrupted. The only thing you can think of is "here we go, here we go, here we go" as you make your way to the door.
You open the door and the first thing that comes out of your mouth is "I'm so sorry."
"What?"
It's only the mailman with a package. "O-oh, nothing," you nervously giggle. Turns out your grandmother had sent you an album of old photos she had happened to find in her attic, which you lazily shoved into your closet. Sorry, grandma.
Three quick knocks on your door send your heart rate soaring through the roof. You take one last deep breath to calm yourself down as you shuffle over, preparing yourself for what's to come.
Sure enough Giorno's standing there with a look of...concern, maybe? Oh, no.
"Come in," you say. He nods and steps inside, allowing you to lead him to the living room couch.
"Can I get you anything to drink...or anything?"
"No, that's alright."
This is awkward. You decide to just sit down next to him. "Um, I guess I'll just start talking."
"A...while back, I was born in Rome's slums. I lived with my mom and my dad, and even though life was hard, I loved it because it was the only life I knew. That was until one day..."
You find yourself staring at the floor, reliving the moment.
"Y/n?"
You look at Giorno and he motions for you to go on. "Oh, sorry. Anyways,"
"I still remember it...kind of vaguely. My mom dropped me off in our community's makeshift park so she could deliver laundry. I was playing with the other kids before my dad literally came out of nowhere, scooped me up, and ran. I was asking him what was was going on, but then there were gunshots and I covered my ears and well, fear took over.
He ran inside our little wood house and placed me inside a crate and told me to stay very still and quiet, and I promised without question, and then I heard my dad scream and the noises got louder. I didn't know what kind of game it was,"
You laugh a little. "But I didn't like it. Keep going?"
"Please do," Giorno mutters, his chin resting on his hand and that same concerned look on his face.
"Okay. Well, I hid there for what seemed like forever when someone found me. They looked like police, but they weren't, judging by the word "Praesidio" printed across the back in big white letters. A nice woman picked me up and carried me to an ambulance, and they checked me up in a big white building a-and they took me to my grandma's--"
"Y/n, are you alright?" Asks Giorno, And you look at him oddly before you notice your cheeks are wet and your vision is a little watery. "Oh, I'm crying, am I?" You wipe at your eyes, and you feel his arm go around your waist in an attempt to comfort you. You lean in closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder, and continue to talk.
"When I was old enough to understand, I was told by my grandmother there was a gang that just about owned my little town, and they had gotten into a little scuffle with another gang, and the other gang ended up shooting up the town. I idolized the people that saved me that day-- so much that I wanted to become one.
I worked three jobs for over a year, and my dear family-- they gave me money, and eventually I was old enough and rich enough to get myself to a training station, and so after around two years, I was the first woman to become a Sergeant, and here I am now."
You cast a watery smile Giorno's way. "Any questions?" He thinks for a second. "What about your mother?"
"Hm. She might still be out there. But I was so young I don't even remember what my parents looked like, and I never saw her again after the attack, so it's more than likely that her and my dad are gone with the golden wind. They did their best to raise me and keep me safe, so even though I don't really remember them, I love them anyways."
"Hey...I appreciate your determination." Giorno's arm around your waist tightens a little.
"Hm? O-oh, thank you." You rub the back of your neck. "I'll keep on doing my best...protecting you." You want to ask him about his past, but you decide maybe now isn't really a time to pry. "Is there anything else you'd want me to talk about?"
Giorno shakes his head no. "Promise me you'll be safe. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you, you know." You shrug. "I...can't really ensure that, but I'll do my best."
"What do you mean you can't ensure that?" He asks, frowning a little bit, which draws out a sigh from you. "When I was sworn in, I swore that I'd do anything I could to protect you, even if it meant me getting seriously hurt or...um, dying. But giving my all is basically my job, so..."
"I guess I can't argue with a pledge, but stay safe anyways. For me." Giorno stands up. "You suppose it's not too late for another cup of coffee downtown?"
You smile, standing up as well (and admiring how smoothly the situation was acknowledged and brushed off). "I suppose."
---
A/N
(He squish.)
-Mom