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    Summary

    Abbacchio knew it was still Bruno in there. He moved with the same grace despite his larger frame, had the same Neapolitan accent (albeit in a deeper voice) as opposed to Diavolo’s own Sardinian. It helped that Bruno didn’t wear Diavolo’s heavy makeup, so Abbacchio could see the thick smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks, and how his eyes still crinkled the same way at the corners when he smiled.

    On the other hand, though, it was jarring the first time Bruno gave him a kiss on the cheek and didn’t have to stand on his toes to reach. He still wasn’t as tall as Abbacchio, but he no longer had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes when they talked. His hand was large enough to nearly engulf Leone’s slimmer fingers when Bruno gave them a comforting squeeze one afternoon, and their feet bumped when they sat across from each other at lunch.

    He wondered if things would ever be the same between them.
    _

    Or: Bucciarati is left in the Boss’ body, and Abbacchio struggles to cope.

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    4,330
    Chapters:
    1/2
    Comments:
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