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“why don’t you come over to my house for dinner again?”
“i’ll be gentle.”
“i’ll be gentle.”
gentle
gentle
gentle—
his words rang in fugo’s head like school dismissal bells - loud, and impossible to ignore. he stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom, and for a second, it seemed as though the darkness stared back.
somehow, though he didn’t have a reason for it, he felt uneasy. unsafe, even. deep down he felt that he might be hurt again. that someone, anyone, could enter his bedroom and harm him.
bruno and abbacchio’s room was just across the hallway from his. what if—
no.
he silenced his own thoughts immediately. there was no way they’d hurt him. they were the closest thing he had to parents. they cared about him.
they had to. he’d been under bruno’s roof for years. if he wanted to hurt him, wouldn’t he have done that already?
still, his professor’s words reminded him that he wasn’t invincible. that if another person so desired, they could force his walls down and take advantage of him, just as he had.
i’ll be gentle i’ll be gentle i’ll be gentle
fugo sat upright, wrapping his arms around himself. the room was dark, and he knew that this was making him feel even more unsafe, but he couldn’t bring himself to move from the safety of his bed, as if he would be swept up and carried away the second his feet touched the floor.
he brought his knees to his chest. he felt so stupid. he was a part of the mafia, god dammit, why was he letting something that happened to him three years ago affect him so harshly? why was he letting this man take over his life?
he moved his arms to wrap them around his legs instead, burying his face into his knees.
he was so lonely. it was so quiet in this tiny room, but he couldn’t wake anybody up to keep him company. that’d be childish. he’s 16, he shouldn’t have to do that anymore.
after a few more moments of staring into the darkness as his face was buried in his knees, fugo finally got up out of his bed and walked over to the door. it took him a few seconds of pressing his hand to different parts of the wall, but eventually he found the light switch and flicked it on.
he immediately looked around the room, making sure no one else was inside (how anyone could have gotten inside without him knowing, he didn’t know).
he pressed his back up against the door and slowly slid to the floor, curling up with his knees to his chest again. he noticed that his breath, as well as his hands, seemed a little shaky. he also noticed that there were tears welling up in his eyes.
god, this was so pathetic. he should know better than this.
his parents would hate him for this.
his parents.
he shook his head, burying his face into his knees again.
no. no. no no no no no no go away i don’t want to remember you again i don’t i don’t i don’t
“fugo?”
he jumped, his head snapping up to look behind him almost on instinct - but before he could look, the back of his head slammed against the door.
“fuck-!” he exclaimed, hissing in pain.
“fugo? are you okay?” the voice came again, and fugo recognized it immediately.
giorno giovanna.
i can’t him see me like this i can’t let him think i’m weak
“fugo, i’m going to open the door, okay? i’m worried about you.”
no no no no no no no no
“no!”
fugo could tell that giorno’s hand was on the knob, as he watched it turn above him slightly.
“huh?” he seemed confused.
“i-i mean-! no, i can open it myself, it’s okay!” fugo tried to save as much of his dignity as he could. he hoped giorno couldn’t tell that he was freaking out internally. he scrambled away from the door and stood, hesitating briefly before opening the door.
as soon as he saw giorno’s worried expression, he regretted opening the door.
“i don’t want your pity,” fugo said, meeting giorno’s eyes.
the other blonde frowned. “i’m not here to pity you, fugo, i just wanted to make sure you were okay. what’s wrong?” he asked. “you never have your light on this late.”
how late was it? fugo couldn’t be bothered to look at a clock. “oh,” he responds, looking down at the carpet beneath him.
he stepped aside so giorno could enter the room, and he did, closing the door slowly behind him.
fugo walked over to the bed and sat on it’s edge, staring into his lap. giorno followed, sitting next to him with a respectable distance between them.
“is it about your parents?” he asked, and fugo could hear the concern in his voice. it made him feel small.
“no.” pannacotta responded, shaking his head.
“do you want to talk about what it is, then?” giorno adds.
he hesitated. “i guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
i don’t want to talk about it i don’t want your pity
“i’ve just been feeling lonely lately.” he said plainly. it wasn’t completely a lie.
giorno was silent for a moment.
“that’s not all, is it? something is bothering you, fugo.”
fuck.
“...it’s just about my professor.”
giorno knew what had happened in the library three years ago, and in the professor’s house the week before that - fugo remembered telling him, vaguely, what his situation was. he left most of the details out.
“guess i’m a coward, huh? i’m sixteen, and a part of the mafia, but here i am. letting my stupid trauma get the best of me. i just want to feel alright,” he rambled, and his voice shook as he did. he could feel the tears coming again, and he tried to blink them away, but they came rolling down his cheeks anyway.
“you’re not a coward, fugo. we all have had bad things happen to us, but some things are harder to move on from. it’s okay to be hurting. it’s okay to have issues, that just makes you human,” giorno says. “is it okay if i touch you?”
fugo nods slightly, and giorno gently places one hand over his, and uses his other to brush some of the older boy’s hair out of his face.
“you’re strong. you know that, right? you took control, and you got your revenge. that takes so much strength. and you’re still here. that’s amazing, and it’s more than some people can say. i understand that it gets hard sometimes, when your past comes rushing back to you and it’s difficult to keep the thoughts at bay. but all of us are here for you, and you can talk to us. we care, fugo.”
giorno’s tone was soft, and he spoke slowly. it was comforting.
giovanna brought his unoccupied hand up to his cheek to wipe stray tears away, smiling slightly. pannacotta smiled back.
he still felt uneasy, but it was lessened by giorno’s presence.
he felt that he might be okay, now.
“thank you, giorno.”