Chapter Text
“Six children?! The poor bastard…”
“Leone…”
“Actually, he had seven, three set of twins after the oldest, but the fourth died with the mother in an accident. Since then he’s been terribly afraid of the number four.”
“Three set of twins! That poor bastard!”
“Leone!”
Giorno giggles while his colleague, Bruno, scolds his husband.
Giorno Giovanna is a teacher, he teaches children from 5 to 10 years, and he loves his job so much. Sure, taking care of children is not easy, specially children that aren’t yours, but to see the little ones thriving is a great reward. His father, Dio, had been hesitant about him having such a taxing job, but once his dad, Jonathan, declared he loved the idea, Dio was easy to convince. There is no one in the world who can do such feat, and Giorno is glad his dad loves and supports him, otherwise his father would be too much . Or well, too much more , if that makes sense.
Bruno is a fellow teacher, who's been in the school much longer, and Leone, his husband, is part of the security personnel. They're a very interesting couple, contrasting with each other yet mingling perfectly. They have a son, Narancia, who's turning seventeen this year and sometimes visits with his boyfriend, Fugo, when they don't have classes or tutoring sessions. Then there's Trish, the new substitute teacher with a sharp tongue and sharper fashion sense. She's a delight to be around. They all are—except for Leone, who only likes Bruno and maybe Narancia a little bit—, and he finds himself anticipating the times he can talk to any of them for more than half a second, sitting at a rock table and sharing a coffee while the children run around the playground, burning away their energy.
And today's subject is a friend of Trish's, a widower and single father of six kids. Guido Mista is his name, he works as a mechanic and needs to put his children in school. Trish, of course, had recommended their school, and today is the day the guy is supposed to come take a look and, hopefully, enroll the children.
“He must be very hard-working.”
“Oh, he is, but he acts so lazy . He's stupidly laid-back, sometimes I forget how busy he is.” She tries to hide it, but there's a very fond shine in her eyes.
“Are you two close?” Giorno asks, taking a sip of his iced tea.
“Yeah, he helped me a lot when shit with my dad hit the fan, you know?”
Trish's dad had been a drug lord, and a very powerful one at that. A mafioso to be feared. The whole story sounds like a very dramatic action piece, and the blonde is very aware the pinkette hasn't told any of them the full version. All they know is that her father tried to kill her and her mother in fear they'd be the key to finding him, but the girl survived and was able to overcome him, and now he's rotting away in some unnamed grave back in Italy. She's technically the new leader of a gang, but no one seems to want to touch the subject and Giorno won't be the one to do so. As long as she's ok and happy, he'll take it.
“And when is he coming?”
“Right about—” her phone alerts her of a new text—“Now.” Trish smiles, getting up. “Who wants to go with me?”
Surprisingly, they all go. Giorno had been sure Leone would refuse to move, but apparently even the grumpy man is curious about the guy. They leave another teacher to take care of the children, who are probably tired enough to be docile, and head to the entrance. There they find a man kneeling in front of a little girl with blond hair and a yellow dress. He seems to be comforting her quietly. Giorno watches the man, or what he can see of the man, for a bit, the large shoulders, the tight muscles, the slim waist. The long hair, almost at his waist, is tamed by a braid, swinging as he gets up.
Then the man turns around to look at them, and Giorno's heart jumps.
“Oh, no, he's hot,” he whispers to himself, blushing at the knowing chuckle that leaves Bruno's lips.
Guido Mista is a fashion disaster. Bright orange pants with white tiger stripes combined with a hot pink flannel shirt over a light blue, skin tight, cropped sweater with diamonds pattern. The belt holding the pants is of the same scandalous pink. He has a pair of glittery orange All Star Converse on his feet and a pair of dark blue arrow earrings in his ears. There's two piercings in his lips, and one on his eyebrow. His get up is ridiculous.
He is so handsome.
His skin is tanned, kissed by the sun. His lips are full, they form a boyish smile. His eyes are purely black, almost like there's no pupils in them, deep and entrancing like two black holes. Giorno wants to be consumed by them.
“Oi, Trish!”
And there goes another beat of the blond’s heart.