Work Text:
It was quite early in the morning, and Fugo was already set on getting work done today. It was a weekend, but he had plenty of homework to do, and no time to waste (unlike Narancia, apparently? The kid didn’t take school seriously whatsoever ).
The blonde got up, and approached his desk, taking a seat. No, perhaps I should get a snack first. Snacks were a good motivator for Fugo. Every time he completed a sheet of homework, he would reward himself with a snack. It kept him working.
The blonde returned shortly with a glass of water, and a bowl of freshly washed strawberries (he had Bruno to thank for that). With that, the teen was ready to get to work — that is, until he noticed a blurry, dark spot moving across the wall parallel to his desk.
The kid had shit vision, but he didn’t have to look too closely to realize it was an insect of some sort. He didn’t know what it was exactly, but his immediate reaction was to get as far from it as possible. Fugo grabbed his bowl of strawberries, and plopped onto his bed, sinking into the soft mattress as he kept close watch of every movement the goddamn bastard dared to make.
When it came to insects, Fugo got extremely paranoid. Even if he could see the wretched thing running across the wall, he would still get weird itches on his body, as if something was crawling on him, and Fugo checked and saw that it was nothing each time. If he saw, out of the corner of his eye, that something shifted (or something he thought did), his eyes would dart to that spot immediately — and the boy was always met with nothing.
Needless to say, Pannacotta Fugo got extremely paranoid when it came to these shitty little creatures.
Still curious as to what that fuzzy spot actually is, Fugo snatched his glasses off the wooden desk and clumsily placed them on his face, immediately regretting it.
It was a fucking centipede. Amazing.
Anytime an insect hung out near the desk, it was almost a sign telling Fugo to stop working. At least, he took it that way, because he’d rather do nothing than work as a fucking bug disturbed his peace.
Could he kill it? No, he really couldn't. He was disgusted enough by the thing while it was still alive and moving, he really didn’t want to have to get rid of its corpse if he managed to kill it. Fugo always preferred to let the bugs crawl away on their own. They always did, and no one got hurt.
The only issue is, now Fugo can’t and won’t get any work done, because the stupid fucking centipede decided to show up. Where the fuck do these things even come from?
Fugo’s paranoia kicked in again when one of his hairs brushed against his leg — it must’ve fallen out at some point. It wasn’t the centipede, and he knew that for certain, because it was right there across the room, staying perfectly still. The teen fucking hated when bugs stayed perfectly still — you had no clue what they will do next, where they will move— you just didn’t know.
Fugo opted to eat his strawberries to calm himself, the fresh, sour taste hitting his palette, diluting a little from the water they have been washed with.
After Pannacotta finished his snack, he reached from his bed to his desk, clumsily putting the bowl down with a quiet thud, and grabbed a book to read. He had time left, he would finish his homework once the centipede finally left him alone.
…
The teen read quietly, the novel temporarily distracting him from this predicament. Even then, Pannacotta didn’t feel safe. He couldn’t lean against a wall, in fear that the thing had already made its way across his walls and got behind him. Looking away from the book, he studied the centipede as it scurried somewhere. Running towards the corner that the wall parallel to his desk and the one behind made up — all too suddenly, the insect fell, and Fugo gaped in shock. What the fuck?
Now, he was in more danger. The fucker could be crawling on the floor now. From his bed, Fugo leaned forward and looked under his desk, only to see that the body was missing. Huh?
Maybe it landed on his desk? Maybe it somehow got a grip and didn’t land on the floor? The teenager honestly had no fucking clue. He placed his novel down onto his bed, and stood up, watching the floor intensely for any sign of life. Pannacotta hopped onto his wooden chair, standing tall, and feeling safer, for whatever reason. From up there, he got a better view of where the centipede once was. Fugo peeked into the bottom of the corner — where the floor was — and again. Absolutely nothing.
Oh god. It was gone. Where did it go?!
Completely lost, the teen figured the safest place for him was his bed, so he hopped off the chair, and landed onto the mattress, sinking into it. Surely it was crawling around somewhere, but what fucking ever. It still being early in the morning, the teen decided to take a nap. Usually, after he slept, the “Bug of The Day” would be completely gone, so Pannacotta laid down and faced the cursed wall with his back. Hugging his blanket tight, the blonde drifted off to sleep, thinking about how Giorno would’ve probably loved to look at the centipede. Why does he love these gross things so much? Pannacotta left it at that as he drifted into unconsciousness.
Two hours later, he woke up, immediately rolling onto his other side to get a good view of the wall. No insects. The blonde got up, and checked everywhere in that area, again. Once he confirmed nothing gross was in his room anymore, Pannacotta sat down at his desk (with a relieved sigh), and got to work. Though it was safe to assume the wretched thing had escaped, Fugo still felt extremely paranoid, looking all over his desk in case something was running towards him. But, to his relief, when he looked over to whatever spot was bugging him, he saw nothing to worry about.
And that just shows how afraid Pannacotta Fugo is of bugs.