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Illuso had a very specific aesthetic. His way of styiling hair had made the others crack some jokes the first month he spent in the team, but overtime it was just "his" hairstyle. It was simply impossible to concieve him without his signature pigtails.
"You know, Illuso" Melone comented one day. He became chatty whenever they were waiting for new orders or another member to arrive. "You'd look good with all your hair down, kind of like a rockstar. It's a pity you keep it on pigtails."
Illuso just shot him an annoyed look. "Don't you have anything else to do?"
"So cold, I'm giving you useful suggestions. You'll see-" He tried pulling at one of the hairbands that were holding the strands of hair together but his hand got smacked before it could even graze them.
"Put your grubby hands away! Is hair your new fetish or what?!"
Melone simply laughed. "Not yet." He let out a deep sigh and slumped on the sofa by Illuso, as if suddenly devoid of any energy. "This is the reason you never get fucked, you are so rude..."
Illuso glared at him. "Say that again if you dare."
"Why wouldn't I dare to say the truth? It's OK Illu, not everyone has the luck to get laid so often!" He made a self-satisfied smile when Illuso tried to jab at him. He dodged by barely a centimetre and ended up with the other man holding onto the couch, one hand on the backrest, another one by Melone´s face, and his pigtails falling forward pulled by gravity. Melone took advantage of this and grabbed them with a smirk, pulling his fingers down through the hair with just enough force to remove the rubberbands. "L-e-t-'s s-e-e!" He sang as he hid the stolen items in his hand. He placed his fist behind his back even though that was uncomfortable, just to avoid to give the hairbands back.
Illuso looked ready to kill him, so Melone retorted to distraction. "You look nice!" He placed all the hair ties in one of his hands and hid it behind his back so he could stretch at least one to grasp at the hair, his glove forgotten as well under his weight. "Definitely" he mused, ruffling the hair, not too close to Illuso's face in case he decided to bite his fingers off. "It's not too far from your usual look but it has something to it! AND you DO look like a rockstar, or you would if you didn't make that bitch face all the time." He kept musing as Illuso made pitiful attempts to get his hands behind Melone's back to retrieve his hairbands.
"I'm going to kill you!"
"C'mon give it a chance! Maybe you will finally manage to fuck! The pigtails can be a little off-putting you know?!"
For a moment, a flash of offended shame crossed Illuso's face. "I don't give a shit! I-!"
The door opened and a rush of people stormed in, making it loud and clear that they had arrived. Some went straight for the shower or their bedrooms. Formaggio peeked inside the living room on the way. He stopped on his tracks when he saw the other two bickering. "You could at least stop playing house for a moment to say hi to the breadwinners of the team" he said on an ironic tone that made both of them turn towards the door. He rested against the frame as if it was nothing even though it was obvious he had been roughed up by the superficial wounds and this and that small tear on his clothes.
"Hi! Get lost!" Illuso replied, using his best fake smile. Formaggio arched his eyebrows.
"And that?" He pointed at Illuso. "Do you wear your hair down when we aren't home? Is that your lounging look? Geez, stick to walking around in underwear, relax a little or something."
The comment had no ill intentios to it, but it was enough to pull the patience out of Illuso. "Don't you have a fucking glass of water to drown into it or something?!" He got up. He wanted to get out, but the only exit had been blocked and there weren't mirrors he could use.
Formaggio remained impassive, looking at him as if he was a brat making a tantrum. "I was going to say it looked good on you but go ahead, be a bitch." He turned, a bored frown painted on his face, and left just like that.
"Shithead" Illuso said under his breath.
"Now, now, wasn't that a bit too...?"
Illuso turned towards Melone. "You shut up." It was a firm command even though Illuso didn't have the authority to give it.
"Ah, did you get bashful? See? I told you you looked good without them." He didn't stop talking even though Illuso finally managed to get the hair ties out of his hands. "Come to me next time you need feedback, I'm always right" he sentenced with satisfaction.
"Choke on a dick."
He had started wearing the pigtails a long time ago simply because they were helpful to keep his hair out of the way, and they ended up becoming a statement. Initially, his long hair had been the statement, back when he was a teen and thought the wildest thing was letting his hair grow and wear chains linked on his jeans. He wouldn't have predicted his future.
Eitherway it had bothered him, both Melone's comment and the fact that Formaggio said he had a point. Why did they think they had a saying in this?! He had hidden himself inside of the mirror world to style his hair back the usual way and wait until he had cooled down. Deep down he knew his temper tantrum was completely childish but they had brought him back to the time where everyone around him tried to make him bend into the perfect son/perfect boy mould.
"Yeah, well, a fucking pity it's going to stay the way I want" he said to himself in a bitter tone. He looked back at himself. "What's their deal anyways?! I look hot like this." He nodded to himself, his self confidence rebuilt after the quarrel.
A persistent tapping resonated through his room in the mirror world. "Heeeeey" said a voice. Illuso scowled, recognising the owned of it. "Pigtail-booooy!" He remained impassive and refused to answer. "Have you stopped acting like a whiny brat already or need help pulling the stick out of your ass?"
That was it.
Illuso rushed towards the mirror on the bathroom, slamming his hands on the frame and pushing half of his body out, knocking some shaving foam into the sink. "I am going to pull you into the mirror world and leave you to starve!"
Formaggio donned a triumphant smile as he rested his hands on the ceramic surface. "Ah so your plan is to get me alone with you huh? Real smooth. I might consider it if you act gentler."
"I won't even need to leave your stand out because it is useless so I hope you have fun dying alone." Formaggio's smile didn't fade to his words, but his left eyebrow twitched. "What the fuck do you want?"
"The capo wants us to make peace because apparently it is more my fault than Melone's. Now, I won't be the one implying they are fucking but they totally are so I am the one that has to make do and pretend I'm actually sorry for upsetting the little baby." As he talked he snuck his hands up and started twirling the front pigtails of Illuso's hair with his indexes as if it was his own hair. "But I am totally not taking anything back, if you don't like it suck it up. I have to hear you yap about my stand as if it wasn't as great as it is."
Illuso scoffed and yanked his head up trying to set his hair free from the other's grasp but that only made Formaggio pull him down. He barely kept his balance. "But"Formaggio continued. "I should pretend that at least I tried to gain your favor, o-mighty mirror walker" he said with irony as he pulled some more on the hair, his fingers climbing close to the hair tie. Illuso had had to prop himself up on the sink on the mirror world to reach the mirror so he was ridiculously unstable while Formaggio played his little act.
"Don't you dare..."
Formaggio twisted his fingers around the ponytails to keep him in place at the same time he slid down the hairbands. "Oops" he said, the feinged innocence he tried to show was overshadowed by the smirk that painted his lips. It was just like him to get under his skin for no reason. His hands crawled back up holding the thick strands of hair to the sides of Illuso's face and for a moment he thought the other man would headbutt him. "Hm... Have you ever tried to tie it back like Prosciutto?" He laughed at his own suggestion. "Man, those sure are ridiculous, it looks like when you hold a snack bag closed with a clamp or something." Illuso wanted to erase that self-satisfied expression with a smack. "But I wonder how would you look with short hair... Maybe I should just shear your hair while you sleep..." He looked up at Illuso. "How do you feel about it, huh? Just matchin' with me!" He moved his head from side to side to show off, like a bird looking at its reflection. "Of course I would be the most handsome of the pair but maybe a change will do well to your face and you won't look like you're smelling shit half of the time." That idiot grinned. He grinned. He was having the time of his life dissing Illuso like that.
Illuso pulled back at once and finally managed to get out of the redhead's grasp. "Maybe I wouldn't look like that if you showered more than once a month!" he spat through the mirror world. Formaggio laughed and hit the mirror hard. "Don't leave! If you come back I will give you a kissie so you get in a better mood!"
Illuso's heart stoped, second-guessing how obvious had he been at some point.
It was ridiculous to fall for that shallow provocation when he knew pretty well how the other man was. Serious talk wasn't Formaggio's thing, or serious anything, for the fact. He wondered how could have thought he was hot the first time he saw him. He shook his head at that and shielded himself under the duvet. "Fuck you." He muttered.
He spent the rest of the evening in the quiet of the mirror world, only disrupted by one of the members trying to call for him.
He hated them. He hated them all.
Apparently, undoing his pigtails had become a sort of inside prank among them. Illuso would be minding his own business and one of the members, usually Melone, Formaggio, and occassionally Gelato, would sneak behind him and try to pull his hair free without him noticing, and the next one who saw him would make some sort of embarrasing comment his way. It seemed like they really wanted be left to die in the mirror world, because they were testing his patiece and it was a scarce resource.
That afternoon he was scanning through the notebook where he had gathered all the information of a target. The man in question was a weasel and very skillful at hiding himself, so he had been forced to fill the gaps through the people that surrounded him instead of observing him directly. He hadn't figured out basic things like knowing if the man had a stand, and all the pictures he had of his face were small and blurry, curse the shitty budget he had to stick to and curse the shitty disposable cameras he had to use. He had gone over the same information over three times that afternoon and he had started to grow annoyed at the man's face. Why was he even a target?, he asked himself. He was nothing but an imp who tried to scam some gullible idiots, and if there was more underneath, the boss hadn't told them and the target didn't give it away on his behaviour. He frowned at the pictures again, and that's when he felt the slight tug.
He elbowed whoever was behind, but the other person dodged with feline agility.
He spun around in a practiced movement that pushed Formaggio against the kitchen counter. Illuso caged him against the surface, murder in his eyes. It had been a month already, and that joke got old the very first day it started. Illuso glowered, the frustration that had been growing in him radiating through the tension of his muscles. Formaggio felt himself break a sweat under that stare. Illuso then opened one of the drawers closer to them. His eye twitched and this time the Little feet user feared it would be the last time he would do that. He pulled his stand behind his back, ready to stab his teammate and shrink him. "Do you think it's that funny?!" Illuso's voice was deep and clogged with irritation. "Do you think I'm a joke?! What's with you?! Give me a fucking break, you're obsessed!" Formaggio tried to move away, to no avail with the hard surface pressing against his lower back.
"Obsessed with you, luv" Formaggio joked. His voice wavered, and it only added to the increasing tension. The rustling of metal stopped and Illuso finally pulled down a pair of scissors. Formaggio's mind raced and considered the man in front of him to be angry enough to try and cut his balls with that, but Illuso grabbed one of his pigtails instead. "I hope you are happy" The other barely had time to react and try to stop him before Illuso chopped the hair right over the hair tie.
"No!" Formaggio yelled. He looked genuinely upset. "Why would you do that?!"
Illuso slammed the bunch of hair on Formaggio's hand, then grabbed the next pigtail and procceeded the same way. The rest of the bundles were thrown carelessly to the floor while Formaggio stared at the spectacle in front of him with almost horror. Illuso's rabid stare kept him in place, he looked like he was going to cry under that.
In the end, the new length barely went further than Illuso's chin. The edges were choppy and the tips moved in every direction. Formaggio looked down at the pigtail he was still holding and Illuso stared down at him. Formaggio was about crack a joke, try to lighten the situation, when Illuso pessed the handle of the scissors against the other's chest. "And now you can go and jerk off with it so you can catch a fucking infection and die." He left the scissors atop of the table with a slam and exited the kitchen. Formaggio looked down at the pile of hair at his feet and rested some more against the counter.
Illuso ended up having to use his own stand to fix the mess of a haircut he had given himself. It wasn't as if he had any skills to do that. The last time he had made anything vaguely related to hairdressing had been giving a buzzcut to his brother when he was still a kid, just because the other had practically begged him to for a week. He frowned at the memory and tried to control man in the mirror the best way he could with pressed lips and glassy eyes.
The out come was 'ok'. Certainly nothing close to a pro work but definitely close enough that he didn't feel ashamed to walk around. He inspected himself closer. He almost let out a sad laugh because he looked like when he was fifteen. It was frustrating. It was really frustrating having to give up something he had taken pride on. He shook his face, wetted his hands and tried to comb te tips to arrange them some more. Then he heard the taps against the glass and looked through the mirror he was using into the real world. Risotto.
"Illuso, come out." An order, one he couldn't even ignore, too.
"Move to the side" he replied, and he took impulse on the sink to skip to the other side. He wouldn't be caught inbetween worlds like last time. "What's it capo?" He made himself look laid back but ready to fulfill any order. He couldn't sulk forever, and he was sure a mission would take his mind out of all of it.
It was clear Risotto inspected him before going on, the slightest surprise washing over his other way stone-cold expression. "I have been informed of certain issues on the team-"
"They have been solved" Illuso stated immediately using his most neutral tone.
"It doesn't seem like so."
"I assure you there aren't going to be more conflicts about the issue" he reassured. He didn't know if Risotto had been completely debriefed on the whole problem, as he trusted Melone had been his source because indeed, Formaggio hadn't missed when he had assumed they were fucking, but of course he wouldn't give away what he knew to his capo unless that put him into an advantage. Risotto bore his eyes into Illuso's skull expecting the other to chicken out and start talking, but Illuso straightened his back instead. "Nothing to worry about."
Risotto decided not to press further and then ordered him to prepare to report all his findings on their next target by tomorrow's afternoon, and to join the rest for dinner. Illuso nodded when he wanted to groan.
It went horribly quiet.
Nobody commented anything and the usuall chatty mood had vanished like smoke under the clatter of plates and cutlery. They had taken their usual seats and that meant Formaggio was at Illuso's right and Prosciutto opposite to him. The blonde had sent several questioning looks, but to the other's lack of response, he dropped their nonverbal communication. Formaggio had reduced the space he usually moved in for the sake of avoiding to make contact with Illuso. He almost seemed scared of touching him. "Good" Illuso thought. "One less nuisance to deal with."
Melone stopped him in the middle of the corridor after dinner. Illuso's original plan was to just throw himself into bed in the mirror world to sleep the remaining stress off his muscles, so the presence of the blonde wasn't exactly welcome. He circled him with curiosity, his hands behind his back and a feline step. "You have cut it pretty straight for someone with no skill on it." Illuso followed him with his eyes until he got out of his peripherial vision. Melone reached, his hand barely brushing the nape of Illuso's neck on the way to reach a strand of hair. Illuso slapped his hand away.
"Get lost."
"So mean" Melone complained. "The outcome has been good and you look nice, cut us some slack." He made an attempt to circle his waist as he moved back in front of him. Illuso shook as if electrocuted and glared at the other man. He turned on his heels and left the conversation before it escalated.
Unsurprisingly, once he had reached his bed, put on his sleepwear and sunk on the bedsheets, he found himself unable to sleep. He twisted and turned, covered and uncovered himself with the duvet, but it never felt right. If he laid on his back he felt like a corpse, if he was to one side or another, he found his new short hair tickled his face, and he was either extremely hot or extremely cold. Or so he wanted to think. He didn't feel bad for standing against the other assasin but deep down the way everyone had decided to avoid him afterwards bothered him. And he had wanted Formaggio to cut the crap and let him be, not to act as a scolded child who is afraid to get hit. He removed the duvet atop of him once again, because it had started to feel stuffy.
An annoying tap trying to call for him on the bathroom mirror finally pulled him out of bed. "This is the last time I am going to do this" he swore to himself. "They should know by now that the mirror world means 'do not disturb', not 'customer service'" he spat to noone in particular.
He found himself in front of a sulking Formaggio that was only able to look at him in the eye for short spans of time. "Aren't you going to come out?"
"Hell no." He said it just as he felt it. Illuso wasn't going to hear another one of his bothersome rants. Formaggio clicked his tongue as he rolled his eyes. He rested against the wall opposite to the mirror. The bathroom on the hideout wasn't specially ample, and could fit three people at most, if none of them happened to be Risotto or Pesci, so Formaggio was little more than a metre away from him. His arms were crossed on his chest and in one hand, Illuso noticed he was holding a familiar object.
"That's my journal" Illuso noted. That seemed to get Formaggio's attention back.
"Yes it is." The other just shook it in his hand, examining it as if he had never seen it. "You left it in the kitchen when you threw a temper tantrum." He winced at his own words. He didn't think them through enough.
"Give it back."
"That's what I was trying to do before you started acting all high and mighty."
Illuso frowned. All of these meetings had gotten old and annoying really quickly. "Give it back."
"Where's that 'please'? Last time I checked, you weren't the capo to order me around."
Illuso let out a tired sigh. The sooner he got over with that the sooner he could try to go back to bed. "Give it back, please." He accentuated that last word with spite.
"Only if you listen to what I have to say."
Illuso stared at him dumbfounded. That idiot really had the nerve to keep his stuff and then demand his time after being a pain in the ass for long enough. He frowned and didn't give a reply.
"So." The awkward and intermittent staredown returned. "I guess" Illuso was almost able to see the cogs turning on the other's head by the deep contemplative frown he was making. Just by the way the words left his lips it felt like the one apologizing was a brat forced by his mother instead of a grown-ass adult mending his mistakes. "I am... sorry for messing with you." He said, a pained tint coating the words. Despite everything, that couldn't dissuade Illuso from distrusting him. Even if he appeared honest for once, it didn't mean it was.
Illuso looked down at him then clicked his tongue. "I'll consider to accept your apology once you have returned my journal." He thought he saw a flash of disappointment on the others face. Illuso couldn't care less.
"So pull your hand out of the mirror world. I don't want to get closer to it." The strained tone didn't go unnoticed by Illuso. He let out an annoyed sigh and considered it for a moment before complying and extending a hand up to his elbow. He realized that was a dumb decission the moment he caught a mischievous glint on Formaggio's eyes just a second before he grabbed him by the wirst and pulled him out to the real world at once.
The fall wasn't pretty. Formaggio had managed to catch his torso and keep him from falling headfirst against the tiles, but his knees had landed into the sink, that nested them in a painful and awkward position as his feet were still inside of the mirror. Formaggio pulled diagonally until Illuso was finally out despite the other's struggle to break free from his grasp. "I'm so going to kill you-!"
Knocks on the door. "What the fuck is going on there?!" Ghiaccio yelled on the other side.
Illuso had managed to get down the sink while still being held on a headlock by Formaggio. "Nothing! Just taking a massive dump, man!" the redhead replied.
They heard Ghiaccio mutter "you're gross" before walking away.
The hold on Illuso released and the other man was finally able to straighten up. He took notice of the height difference and was about to use it as ammunition before getting back inside the mirror when Formaggio spoke.
"I actually meant it you know?" Illuso crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared, waiting for him to continue. "The apology now, and all of that. You looking good with your hair down. Maybe Melone and I took it a bit too far. I didn't anticipate you doing this-" He gestured vaguely towards Illuso's hair. "Which in the end isn't necessarily a bad outcome because you still look hot but your pigtails weren't bad either."
Illuso arched a brow, apparently unimpressed. "Is that all?" Formaggio bit his lip. He didn't look so guilty now.
"What else do you want from me?" It sounded like a honest question, a hesitating expression on his face.
"Bow down and beg" he commanded without wavering . Formaggio furrowed his brow and looked at the floor. It was sufficiently clean thanks to Ghiaccio and Prosciutto's weekly scheduled housekeeping tasks for the team, those two were the only ones keeping that place from turning into a pigsty. He couldn't believe he might have to thank them for that at some point. With a displeased expression he kneeled down and Illuso stepped back in shock.
Formaggio took air in, trying to find whatever words he could conjure to get over with that as quickly as possible.
"Ok, ok, don't do that I didn't mean it seriously." Illuso interrupted, taken back because of the outcome. He was slightly bent, hands moving between fist at the sides and half-offering to help him. "Just get up. I get it you are sorry, I look hot with my hair down and you are not going to touch my fucking hair ever again. Just. Give me my journal and let's get over with this as quickly as possible."
Formaggio looked at him and couldn't help but smile when he saw Illuso had been thrown off the high throne he had placed himself in and he found he was unable to resist the chance. He rose and handed him the journal but when Illuso tried to snatch it from his hands, he was met with resistance. "Just hot? Nah man. It was eyecandy. I would have liked to see you all disheveled with your long hair clinging to your face as I fucked you silly. You looked that hot" he said, leaning forward. Illuso's sickly pale complexion had suddenly turned three shades redder, but he tried keeping an straight face. Formaggio was no better, faking confidence despite his face feeling hot as a furnace. "It's a pity the closest I could get of that was messing with you. I can't say I dislike the way you look now and-" He pulled the journal towards himself and walked closer, to the point their chests were barely touching. He ran his fingers through Illuso's hair taking advantake of the other's shock. Illuso couldn't believe he was allowing him to do that. Maybe he wanted to believe this time he was legit about his words, maybe this situation couldn't turn for worse and he might as well see it to the end. Formaggio grabbed a fistful of hair but didn't really pull on it."I guess I can still take a hold of it. Forget what I said about getting a buzzcut, you look much better like this..."
Illuso couldn't forgive himself for falling back into his crush just after a little bit of praise.He had himself on high steem, and he knew he was good-looking, but it felt much more satisfying to hear it from someone else's lips. Actually, he started to consider, he wasn't so sure if he had gotten over his crush yet. He straightened his back trying to regain some composure and to appear taller and self-assured. "Now aren't you getting a little bit cocky? Who said I would sleep with you?"
Formaggio shot him an infuriating smirk before holding him against the wall, his mouth dangerously close to the other's neck. "Have I misread?"
"You are just embarrasing" Illuso muttered. He could feel Formaggio's breath against his skin. "Move, you are hot."
Formaggio laughed, but it sounded like a nervous pant. "Glad to know you have eyes. I know I am."
"Didn't mean it like that, idiot." For a moment, it just sounded like a normal reply, and Formaggio seemed to catch on that.
"So push me away. Do it and I will stop. Say you don't want it." Illuso swallowed hard and he could swear he felt Formaggio's lips brushing his Addam's apple."But if it's the opposite, say it too."
"Oi! Get out of the fucking bathroom already!" someone yelled on the other side of the door. The shrill voice suggested Gelato. Some other muffled cries commanded him to shut up.
Illuso took this as a chance to snatch the journal from Formaggio's hands and scurry into the mirror world before anyone could stop him. He didn't turn to see the expression Formaggio was making. All he could feel was the sweat falling on his neck.
The debriefing of the intel wasn't as catastrophic as he had anticipated. There wasn't more people than the ones needed on the mission, and even the tense atmosphere was bearable.
"And so I have marked in this map the five most likely locations he will be in. I tried to find a pattern on his appearance but couldn't figure it out so, for now, that's all I have on that. The bodyguards tend to be with him at all times, even in his hotel room when he sleeps. If we manage to pull some extra info about his business we might be able to sell it to the boss in exchange of a plus, because I don't believe he can afford 24/7 protection just with what we know he has going on. Also, I couldn't figure if any of them were stand users. So far there is no evidence of that but I couldn't get close enough to check with Man in the Mirror."
Risotto hummed as he studied him. Illuso pulled all the documents they needed from inbetween the pages of his journal: Folded pieces of paper with letters showing through the back due to the pressure of the handwritting and one of the maps that were given away as freebies in the city council with marker circles and some notes.
"That's all for now" he said, but he stared back at Risotto, unblinking, bitting the inside of his cheek.
"You're dismissed."
Illuso didn't need to be told twice.
He scurried towards the livingroom where Ghiaccio was explaining 'very passionately' to Pesci why something someone had said on TV was ethimologically wrong and why all of the other guests on the show were just as dumb as the host. He finished giving his sermon to the newbie, then drank water to soothe his sore throat and finally he turned his attention to Illuso.
"How did it go?"
"Huh?"
"The meeting."
"Fine, I guess." The other frowned, more than usual at least. Small talk put him in a bad mood. "I guess Risotto is going to use Prosciutto for now, and will try to use Melone's stand with a sample I took after one of the bodyguards of the target got in a fight if it fails. It's hard to get close to him so I guess they won't need you for a while. Don't know if they will take Sorbet or Gelato this time as backup."
Ghiaccio made a satisfied noise. "Good." He laid back more vehemently on the couch but that position pulled a pained expression from him, and then he moved his hand under his right arm as he cursed.
"Got stitched?"
"You should have seen the other guy" he replied with a smirk.
Illuso scoffed.
"That's what you get for ramming right in before white album has completely covered you."
"Ya' picking a fight?!" Ghiaccio screamed, straightening up and immediately bending go the side. "Shit."
"I'll go fetch some ice before your guts spill out" Illuso said. Ghiaccio started to complain that it didn't make any sense and Illuso gestured to Pesci so that he tried to calm him down, or keep him from ripping all the stitches open. He wasn't really planning on coming back. If Ghiaccio wanted to dull the pain he could make his own ice. His screams were on poor Pesci now and until Prosciutto got out of the meeting.
"Sucks to be you, pineapple boy" he said under his breath.
"Sucks to be who?"
Illuso turned around like a spring, finding himself in front of Formaggio. "None of your business."
"So let's change it to something that's actually our business."
"Like...?" Illuso looked behind himself, as if someone were to appear right in that moment to catch them have an awkward conversation. Maybe Sorbet, because the man was quiet as a mouse and quite often you only noticed he was in the room because he wanted to make himself obvious.
"You haven't replied yet." Formaggio took a step forward. Illuso took another one backwards.
"To what." It was easy to pretend obliviousness. The door to the meeting room slash Risotto's office slash storage room opened and Prosciutto's voice resonated through the corridor. Illuso stood still like a rabbit in front of headlights and Formaggio took the chance to pull him by the arm into his room. The slam and the click of the lock were enough to bring back the dense tension in the room.
"Illuso don't play dumb with me. Do you think I'm an idiot? That I am going to believe you don't remember what happened a day ago?"
Illuso snorted and rested his back against the door, trying to appear laid back rather than caged. "Yes I do think you are an idiot, there's your answer. Bye." He went for the doorknob, yet his hand didn't get to grab it.
"Illuso."
He didn't like this. Formaggio was serious but not close-to-death serious where he made jokes slurred between his lips despite looking like shit and two steps away from death. This time he wasn't making none of those annoying, cocky, and overconfident expressions that always painted his face. He looked like he might as well be attending a funeral.
"What." He straightened his back. He wouldn't get intimidated by the likes of him.
"I want a proper answer."
"Sucks to be you." Illuso crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You want to be taken seriously now that you have tormented me enough?"
"I'm serious."
"So am I." He puffed his chest.
Formaggio clicked his tongue and looked away, taking a step back not to feel the other imposing over him. He turned around, walked towards the bed against the wall and sat. He scratched his head as if that would be able to calm his restlessness, and then sighed. "Do you hate me?"
"What do you think?"
Formaggio frowned. "Don't be so difficult... Please, sit?"
"Now that's new" Illuso thought. He reclutantly did as asked, placing himself a safe distance from the other.
"Do I have to repeat what I said yesterday?" Formaggio asked. Illuso shot a sideglance his way. At least he had his attntion. "I went along with Melone because that was a good excuse to touch you without having to go and confess. It sort of backfired, huh. It was a jerk move, and I didn't mean to make you angry or" he gestured towards Illuso's general direction."All of this." He swallowed. "Like I was allright being just your friend, I guess, but couldn't refuse the chance to get a little bit closer, you know? Sometimes I didn't know if you hated me or something before all of this happened, because you looked so annoyed, so I took what I could for as long that was possible." Illuso didn't know where to keep his eyes. The floor? The opposite wall? The man spilling his own guts to confess? He kept his hands clasped and his elbows rested over his thighs. "So maybe it's better to ask first before confessing again: Do you hate me?"
How did he even dare sounding so sad while making that question, Illuso thought.
"Do I, Formaggio?" for the first time in a while he looked at him. "Sometimes I just feel like killing you so you shut up or quit acting like an idiot. You say you hate it when we don't take your stand seriously, yet you don't listen to me when I tell you to stop, you even dare to disobey the capo." Formaggio frowned. "I can barely stand you, but do I hate you...? No, I don't."
Formaggio scrunched his nose, deeply focused on Illuso's words . "Does that mean you...?"
"That means if you shut up and wait... There might be something. Between us. I'm still mad though."
A shit-eating grin finally painted Formaggio's face and Illuso coughed, half ashamed, looking away. "A'ight. How much will I have to wait?" He asked, getting close to the embarrased stand user. "A week? Three days?"
"Why would you think I would forgive you in three days?!"
"But a week it's too long Illu."
"Illu?! Don't call me that!"
"Then can I kiss you?" He tried clinging to Illuso's neck and ended up elbowed in the stomach, but that didn't deter him. He managed to straddle Illuso, a cocky grin tugging at his lips. Despite the annoyed look Illuso shot him, the other couldnt hold back one of his own, mirroring him.
"You are fucking annoying" he stated, then he leaned forward.