Chapter Text
Warm summer nights in Napoli were one of the few greatest pleasures in life. At least - according to Catalina. Before she had encountered Bucciarati’s band of merry misfits, she had often spent her free days sitting by her open window, a comforter pooled around her waist as she gazed at the streets beyond her bedroom. Nights like this made her yearn for her own bed, a mug of hot and over sweetened coffee cradled between her palms. Alas, she was not at home. Instead, she was now in one of the bedrooms of Bucciarati’s hideout, the rest of his team sound asleep. Now, she was assigned to his team to assist in tracking down a rogue member of Passione. To find and gather information for interrogation.
Why she had awakened, she couldn’t tell. But if she had to guess - a strange feeling in her stomach, tight and nagging, had stirred her awake. Telling her that she could not sleep. Perhaps it had been the nap she had earlier in the day while the crew was out on business, perhaps the coffee she had downed to finish her own mission reports finally came back to bite her. Or perhaps…
The young woman paused, yawning softly to herself as she rose out of the cushiony bed, stacked with miscellaneous pillows and throw blankets she had hoarded the moment she was given the room. She was thankful Bruno had been so accommodating.
Once the pads of her feet touched the soft carpet, she quietly moved to the nearby vanity to pull on a light robe for decency, although she was dressed in a simple camisole and shorts. Pausing at the window, she drew back the curtains a bit, wanting to see the world lit only by moonlight. Bucciarati’s hideout was far from the city, yet not entirely isolated. The villa just comfortable enough to house his many companions with some room to spare as well - it was nice. Even just touching the glass, Catalina could feel no chill run up her spine, no gooseflesh prickling at her arms. Just a mild warmth. A private smile tugged at her lips before she moved away again, closing the curtains to envelop her room in darkness. Perhaps she would get a glass of water before attempting to sleep again. Or maybe wine for faster results.
Careful not to make much noise, the slender woman slipped out of her room and closed her door, making her way down the hall with her arms loosely crossed. During her time with Bucciarati’s team, she had caught on to their small habits with her keen eyes. A small hobby of hers had always been people watching. She supposed it worked well, considering her stand abilities. Fugo always had a regular curfew if it didn’t interfere with a mission. Mista and Narancia liked to stay up late some nights, playing games or goofing around until either of them decided to pass out in their respective rooms. Though she did find one of them once or twice sleeping on the couches of the small villa. Abbacchio always seemed to slink into his room the moment he returned, usually not to be seen again unless it’s for food, the bathroom, or a meeting. Giorno, surprisingly enough, was quite lax in routine. Once his golden locks of hair were free from the swirls of his neat braid, he simply washed his face and went to bed. Of course - there was someone missing.
Bruno Bucciarati had always surprised her since the day she met him. With all his charm and elegance, he was quite the workaholic. Catalina rarely saw him go to his own room, even after she herself gently woke whoever passed out on the couch to go to bed. She’d seen the light in his office, peek in with a light knock on the door before asking if he needed anything before she headed in herself. He always gave her a small smile and shook his head, pen in hand with a document in the other, telling her to go get her rest.
If she had to describe it, however, she’d say he’d sleep at his desk if he could, or even the couch he had in the office if he couldn’t make it to his room. The next morning, he’d always seem fine. Professional and prepared to give out assignments to his half asleep comrades. Catalina could tell, though. Behind those glittering ocean blue eyes that carried so much determination and drive - he was exhausted, and slowly crashing.
Slender fingers dragged themselves across the walls as she walked, getting lost in her own thoughts as she wondered just how many hours of sleep Bucciarati actually slept. Or if his strong lust for justice and order kept him going. Amber orange eyes unconsciously moved to the dark oak door that hid Bucciarati’s office, slightly ajar. Raising a brow, she made her way over to it, thinking that perhaps she should have brought one of the spare blankets to drape over him if he actually had fallen asleep in there. Though, before she could lightly knock, she froze mid way, hearing something she probably should not have.
The white light of the moon was the only light coming from the gap of the open door, but with that, she was able to hear him. Soft, shuddering gasps, shaking exhalations - sniffling. Catalina’s fingers twitched, hesitating as she had a mental debate, trying to decide whether or not to enter. After a moment of struggle, she decided to peek through the opening, looking around the office - only to find it empty. With a furrowed brow, she slowly pulled the door open to prevent creaking and took a few steps in, still trying to spot the raven haired man.
His desk was still littered with documents, pen nearly rolling off the edge. The room was as dark as she expected, even as she moved across the large, intricate rug that covered the floor. What Catalina hadn’t noticed before was the open french doors, the sheer white curtains billowing in the warm night breeze. She stopped in the middle of the room, and there it was again.
Sniffling.
Choked back sobs.
Though his back was turned to her, his silhouette was framed beautifully by the moon. His dark raven hair caught the streaks of white, the gold of his barrettes glinting, and his elegant white suit all the more bright. But even from where she stood, she could see his shoulders shake. Bucciarati’s form was slightly hunched over, palms supporting his weight against the railing as he quietly sobbed.
A strange, knotted sensation tightened in her chest upon seeing him. Seeing such a strong, confident, and headstrong man like Bruno Bucciarati -
Though she was no stone statue herself in terms of emotional strength, she had never expected him - of all people in their line of work - to succumb to the stresses of it all like this.
Questions like these buzzed in Catalina’s mind as she stood there, almost frozen in place as if she were at a loss on how to handle this situation. It would seem that she wouldn’t get the chance to decide herself, however, for the moment she snapped out of her thoughts - Bucciarati had turned to face her. As if he had sensed someone was there.
Deep azure eyes rimmed with fat, heavy tears stared at her in shock and surprise, his expression a mix of confusion slowly melding with shame. Catalina was at a loss for words but in the back of her mind - though she was sure it was highly inappropriate to think so at this very moment - she thought he looked almostangelic like that.
They both stopped. Silence fell between them awkwardly for just a moment before Catalina gave the man a small incline of her head, signaling him to speak first. After all - she was the one invading his space, it’d be rude.
With a polite nod, Bruno cleared his throat a bit, shaking his head as if to gather his bearings before proceeding. “What are you doing up so late, Mascarpone?” He asked, his usual smooth and gentle voice hiding away any kind of emotion she had briefly seen before she was caught.
Catalina sighed softly, shrugging a bit as she crossed her arms. “I could ask you the same thing, Bucciarati.” She gave him a half smile before continuing. “I woke up - I figured a glass of wine would help me sleep.” It was the truth, of course. No sense in lying to a man who’d be able to tell you otherwise.
“I see,”
“I saw the door open, too.”
Bruno paused, his hands that had been moving to fix his suit faltering as well. He rarely had nights like these. Night where the stress of running a team of such young boys in danger every day, the stress of being a leader and keeping the mask of righteousness placed firmly on his face. Such a strong resolve was bound to wear down some time. Surely even he knew that.
Catalina had moved forward - and he took a step back in response. In the light of the moon that bathed her figure, she seemed like a ghost. A spirit - with the way her robe flowed around her. The locks of dark hair that framed her face shifted with the light breeze as well, contrasting with the shocking brightness of her eyes. Fiery, like sunrise. Warm, like a sunset.
“Bucciarati -” she started, taking another step towards him with confidence and worry hidden in her amber eyes. Once she was close within reach, she extended a hand to him. “Sit with me?”
It was a simple question, and he was free to decline her request. As a leader he should feel ashamed for showing such weakness in front of a team mate. He should say no and get back to his paperwork - or even to bed. But Catalina’s gaze was unwavering, quietly begging him to say yes.
Letting his shoulders relax a bit, Bucciarati sighed and let her take his hand, letting her lead him to the couch in his office and sit him down. He was tired, exhausted even. Not just by the work, but with everything...He wanted to sleep for years. To rest easy knowing his team - hisfamilywould be safe without him. He wanted -
“Breathe.” Came Catalina’s voice, soft and gentle, like a mother speaking to a child. In the time Bruno had sat down and buried his face into his palms, she had closed the french doors, as well as his office door for privacy. Now, she knelt in front of him, her fingertips feather light on his wrists. “Four seconds in, hold for seven -”
“Eight out.” He finished for her with a nod, his own smile tugging at his lips, though it looked like a bitter one. Bruno sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face, through his hair, dislodging the neatly placed barrettes. “I’m...sorry you had to see me like this, Mascarpone -”
“Catalina.” She corrected him, lightly scolding as she rose to take a seat beside him, collecting the golden accessories from his hair and setting them aside neatly. “And it’s fine - I don’t think any less of you, you know.”
Bruno’s smile softened. “Catalina. Thank you,” his voice was quieter now, eyes drawn to the rug as his fingers tangled together, his head hung low. “You don’t have to stay. I know you won’t speak of this, but I’d appreciate it if you pretend you didn’t see that.”
“And let you handle it on your own? Not a chance.” The woman beside him chuckled, shaking her head as she gently nudged his shoulder with her own, waiting until his eyes met hers. “It may be none of my business, but I’m not going to let you do it alone, caro.”
Bruno relaxed a bit more at the pet name, his hand flinching in surprise as he felt her smaller one take it again, her thumb running across the skin on the back of it comfortingly. He raised a brow at her.
“You work too late, amico mio. You’re stressed and tired, you sleep even less than Abbacchio.” Her tone was laced with concern for her companion, though it was light enough for him to catch her affectionate teasing for the hardened ex-cop. “Those boys won’t burn down all of Napoli if you slept more, you know.”
She wasn’t entirely wrong, though Bruno wouldn’t put it past Narancia to burn something down for the sake of a mission. Even thinking about it made his head pulse with the stress of trying to fix that mess up somehow. His jaw clenched. Catalina squeezed his hand.
“You’re tired, caro. You’ll work yourself to death like this.”
The warmth of her body pressed against his side as she leaned on him, her hold on his hand loose, letting him have the option to pull away from her whenever he pleased. Though, Bucciarati found that he had no such want to. Instead, he let himself be supported by her smaller frame, knowing she wouldn’t have a problem with the added pressure. The hand that held his pulled away, and soon her arms were wrapped around his tired body, maneuvering him carefully so his head rested on her shoulder. In this position, if he moved his face, he’d be nestled into the crook of her neck.
Dozens of thoughts danced in the mobster’s mind, trying to find the words to fill the silence between them. But every time he tried, it didn’t feel like the right time to speak. As his lips parted, no words could come forth as Catalina’s hand that rested on his back began to move. Up and down in slow, dragging motions as she soothed him. The soft waves of her aubergine purple hair smelled of lavender and vanilla, her warm skin perfumed with the faintest hint of oranges.
These were small details that Bruno had known for a while, but kept to himself for the most part. The softness of her skin whenever he brushed his fingertips over the back of her hand while she handed him a file, the scent of her hair when the breeze would shift the gently curled locks and carry it to his nose. Smalls things that made his chest warm with affection.
Whether that affection was anything more than platonic feelings between team mates - Bruno wasn’t entirely sure himself.
Often times he found himself wondering if the small grins and flirtatious banter between them meant anything more than just that. He pushed those thoughts away when she would toss a wink to Abbacchio or playfully tease with Mista, however, figuring it was just in his mind.
Still.
Catalina held him close, rubbing his back and occasionally carding her fingers through the ravenette’s silky tresses. For the most part, she didn’t speak, just held him.
Bruno could feel himself melt into her, the urge to speak dissipating slowly the longer he stayed in her embrace. However, his chest felt heavy and tight, the stress he felt earlier pushing itself to the surface full force now that he had an anchor. In the back of his mind, he felt shame for the way his shoulders began to shake, how his grip on her waist tightened slightly. Catalina had no reaction, at least not that he could see.
Overwhelmed, the heavy weight of all the responsibilities he’d been carrying suddenly crashed through him for a second time that night and without thinking, his strong arms found their way around Catalina’s waist. He clung to her desperately as hot tears burned at his eyes, choked sobs racking through his body, his hands fisting the thin robe she wore. All while he buried his face into her chest, as if to hide away.
His cries were muffled, but no less powerful as his body shuddered in her arms. Catalina closed her eyes and squeezed her arms around him, tilting her head down to press a chaste kiss to the crown of his head.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, just loud enough for him to hear through his weeping. “Let it all out, caro, I’ve got you.”
And Bruno heard. He heard and listened to her calming words, grateful to have the warm embrace of someone to ground him. To comfort him when the world was heavy on his shoulders. He was young. Far too young for such responsibilities like these - but it was the path that he chose to walk.
But he did not need to walk it alone.
“I’ve got you.”
She repeated, softer this time. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, feeling his anguish as if it were her own. Catalina herself had never been the type to be a leader, preferring to simply follow or run the show on her own. But - she could only imagine how hard the toll must be for any person like that - especially Bucciarati. To have the lives of others in the palm of your hand, to be the one they turn to for guidance… She felt like she could cry, too. Like she could cry for him.
Minutes felt like hours as they sat together, holding the other tightly as if they were one another’s only anchor keeping them from falling away. All the while, Catalina whispered gentle words into his hair, mumbling affirmations of his accomplishments and the loyalty of his team.
Bruno’s tears had stopped after a while, only quiet sniffs and soft breathing remained. But he didn’t pull away from her entirely, his tight embrace now loosened in a lazy hold on her. Catalina’s fingers wove through his hair, her nails scraping over his scalp to soothe him even further. This time - he wouldn’t let the silence take over for too long.
“Catalina I -” he paused, clearing his throat for a moment, shifting so that his chin rested on her shoulder. “Why did you stay..?”
Her answer was simple.
“You’ve done so much for your team, for the people of Naples, you deserve a rest.” She replied, pressing another kiss to his temple. “Everyone needs someone at times like these - I think. You don’t have to struggle on your own. I wanted to help you - the same way you help everybody else, that’s all.”
For a moment, Bruno took that in, his own fingers gliding over the satin fabric of her robe as he thought of what to say to that.
“Thank you.” He finally managed, receiving a small squeeze in return.
“Of course, it’s the least I can do.” Catalina’s hand moved to push him away gently, just enough for him to sit back up on his own without her support. Once she could see his face, she smiled at him, wiping away the wetness on his cheek with her thumb. If what Bruno saw in her eyes was what he thought (or silently hoped) it was - he wouldn’t know what to do next. Actually - he didn’t know if he’d have the courage to do anything. Not like this. “There’s no shame in letting it out, you know…”
Her soft skin dragged softly against his, her fingers slipping to the nape of his neck and pressing against the flesh. Bruno hoped she couldn’t feel his skin heating up from the touch. But as she pulled him forward and closed her eyes, Bruno’s heart seemed to stutter just for a moment.
The gentle pressure of their forehead pressing together came next.
Bruno stared at her, confused and curious. But gradually, he relaxed again, his eyelids fluttering shut as he let himself lean into her in return. Her hand cradled the back of his head as they stayed like that, their noses just barely brushing against each other in a tender and subtle show of affection and mutual respect.
“You’re not any less strong if you do.”
Soon, she pulled away from him, her hand moving to cup his jaw again as she smiled - comforting and gentle. “In fact - I think you become much stronger.” Bruno couldn’t help but chuckle a little at that, raising his own hand to cover hers over his cheek, soaking in the warmth there. The urge to turn his head to kiss the life lines on her palm was strong. But he resisted.
“Thank you…” he muttered, giving her hand a small squeeze.
The small twinge of loss he felt when she pulled her hand away afterwards was forced to the back of his mind.
“Let’s get some rest, Bucciarati. The work can wait until tomorrow, no?” Catalina chuckled, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear before rising from the couch and holding her hand out to him. “I’ll even let you stay with me tonight if you’d like.~”
Bruno’s eyes widened at that, glad that she was busy laughing softly to notice his pinkened cheeks.
“I’m kidding! Explaining that to the boys would be far too annoying to deal with so early in the morning.”
The purple-haired woman grinned and leaned down to snatch his hand, tugging him up and towards the door. With the flirtatious and playful attitude she usually portrayed - one that Bruno and the rest of the gang were quite used to by now - returning to it’s full warmth, the man relaxed and let himself be tugged away, chuckling a bit himself.
“I believe that Abbacchio would never let you live it down if I did stay for the night.” He teased back, feeling her grip loosen, but not enough to fully let go of him. He didn’t pull away. Not even as she led him back down the hall.
“Leone only wishes he could spend the night with me.” Catalina shot back, eyeing the aforementioned man’s bedroom door with a mischievous grin before throwing Bucciarati a wink. “You should be honored though, it's an invitation only kind of thing.”
That made him laugh again, the sorrow he felt earlier becoming almost a distant memory as they came to a slow stop in the middle of the empty hallway. The moonlight from a far window bathing them in the bright glow. It only took a short moment for Bruno to realize they were just a few steps away from their respective rooms. His just a few steps down from hers.
“Well - the offer is still open if you’d still like some company tonight, caro.” Her voice was light as she chuckled, almost shy if he listened close enough.
His heart seemed to be drawn to saying yes, to nod his head and follow her into the guest room where she stayed - to follow her into her bed. But instead -
Bruno smiled gently at her and shook his head, lifting a hand to brush away a few strands of hair that would have obstructed the chaste kiss he pressed to her forehead. Though the deepest part of him longed for it, he knew that - being her superior - it’d be wrong to take her up on her offer.
For now.
“How about a rain check, topolina?”
At that, Catalina laughed, careful of her volume as she gently shoved at his arm, their hands finally detaching from one another. “Fine - but I’m holding you to that!” Though she furrowed her brows and put on a stern expression, he could see the playful glimmer in her carnelian irises.
Stepping back, Bruno straightened his shoulders and crossed out his heart, inclining his head dutifully. “You have my word.” He swore, giving her a secret grin, to which she returned triumphantly. With one last nod, she turned on her heel to head towards the guest room, feeling herself become exhausted and ready for sleep once again.
Bruno watched her for a moment before moving himself, his hand just shy of touching the doorknob before he heard her voice call for him again. He turned to see her, halfway through her door, eyelids looking heavy already.
“Buona notte, Bucciarati. I’ll see you in the morning.”
With a tired smile of his own, he nodded in confirmation before Catalina turned to retreat again.
“Catalina?”
“Mm?”
“Call me Bruno.”
And with that, he entered his room and closed the door, anticipating a long - full night’s rest.