Chapter Text
Italy.
The utmost grand of places with your choice of either vacation, or home. You, on the other hand, had decided you wanted to make this your cozy little life with you and your boyfriend.
He picked you up by the waist, planting kiss after kiss on your giggling face, your cheeks, your lips, anywhere he could possibly reach. Given the open balcony in front of you both, a calm breeze entered the room, the night smell of Italy finally knocking you to your senses.
A mild, bitter memory it was now. Just a dreamed fantasy in the middle of a nightmarish reality. The streets were the only source of shelter for you, your boyfriend was killed by the hand of drugs, his bargaining from the scum they called themselves ‘gangs’.
You swore to find them, kill every last one of them. They took the only good thing from you, and now you were left to die. You were thrown out of your own home, days after his funeral. The warmth of your own home touching you for the last time in 2 months.
It had been raining all day, your overly sopping sweater being the only thing shielding your head, not doing much to keep you dry anymore. You shivered, curling up to hug your knees for any kind of warmth, but even despite the burning heat in your face from the fever that had built up over the week, you were left freezing.
At some point, you had given up completely. You prayed that time would take you. Anything to take the pain away as your curled up at the alley you had taken to as your ‘home’, laying on your side.
That was until one day, you were rolled onto your side to face an unknown looking man.
“Signorina, what are you doing out here in this rain…?” He spoke softly, his blue eyes being the only thing you could see.
You shivered against the arm on your shoulder and panted, shutting your eyes in a horrible grimace as your headache worsened at the sudden movement. Suddenly out of nowhere, you felt yourself being pulled to your feet as a comforting arm caught your back.
“Hold onto me tightly, Signorina.” The man instructed, arranging you over his back carefully.
You hugged the stranger’s neck tightly, wondering if this was finally the moment you would be killed. How many times has your mother told you not to speak to strangers? What a drastic change of events, you thought.
Your arms bobbed lightly at the movement of his walking as they hung loosely over his shoulders. He squeezed one of your hands, making sure you had a pulse.
“We’re almost home, Stella, stay with me.” He reassured softly, quickening his pace as he heard your breathing increase. He cursed softly in Italian, stopping momentarily as he loosened his other hand from your legs, causing you to slide off.
Shifting you quickly towards him, the stranger hoisted you up into his arms and began running, holding your freezing body too his chest. You noticed it was bare and moist with rain.
Was he not wearing a shirt? You thought to yourself. What would he do with you?
You began sobbing into his skin, wanting him to let go of you, but your strength was long gone as you merely tightened your hands against him.
“I know cara, I know.” He brought you closer. “I will take care of you, I will protect you, I promise I will.”
You sobbed louder.
Let go of me.
You clenched your hands tighter, applying pressure to his chest.
“No…” You barely said under a sob.
“Let…me die…”
Your voice sounded nothing like yourself anymore. The burden of yourself was too much to bring upon someone else. Even if they were a stranger.
You felt the accelerated heartbeat of the stranger increase, his body tensing at the words you’d spewed out.
Before you could say anything else, the slam of a door struck you out of thought as added warmth enveloped you.
“We’re here, cara.” The stranger affirmed, his voice shaking slightly.
He laid you down against a soft material, the dip beside your head telling you he had taken a seat next to you. He felt your forehead with the back of his hand and gasped, snatching his hand back.
You were burning up, the cold skin of his hand relieving your headache for a moment before he removed it, the feeling getting lost completely.
He cursed for the second time, darting to another room you assumed as your eyes had been closed ever since.
“Cara, can you sit up for me?” His voice returned, but without waiting for a response, he helped you up to a sitting position against the couch, trying to sit you upright.
You clutched his wrist tightly, opening your eyes as you got a blurry, but fair look at the stranger’s face.
He had short black hair, soft blue eyes, and a white suit adorning his overall physique.
You gulped. There was no saliva in your mouth anymore to swallow.
Before you knew it, he was asking you to take your clothes off, saying one thing after another as you were sure you were going to be taken advantage of right then and there.
You stared at him lifelessly, watching his mouth move as he asked among the lines if you were listening to him or not.
“I can help you if you can’t do it on your own.” He offered you, seeing as you weren’t moving at all. The tone in his voice was desperate, as if he could see the hopelessness in your eyes.
“You may turn around, if you’re concerned. I will not look.” He assured you.
Without a word, you shifted your weight and presented your back to him, but you could only move so much as your head suddenly lolled to the top of the couch.
At once, he hooked his fingers under the hem of your shirt and began to peel the damp material upwards, instructing you to raise your arms as he did the rest, taking it off over your head.
Removing your ruined and wet bra as well, the stranger enveloped your naked back with a large shirt and as much as you’d be embarrassed any other time, you didn’t care.
“Could you turn around, cara?” He asked, helping you along the way as you struggled to follow his command.
You slumped against the couch and watched as the stranger began to unbutton your pants.
“These wet clothes are the cause of your fever.” He began, yanking your sopping jeans to your knees. “How long has it been since you’ve last eaten?”
You shook your head lazily and he nodded, understanding exactly what you meant.
Once he finished at your pants, he finally removed your shoes and socks, tossing them into the pile of wet clothes he’d collected.
“Cara…um…” He scratched his neck shyly. “Could you also add the rest of your undergarments to the pile?”
You nodded wordlessly and slowly bent forward, pulling them as they barely got down to your thighs. You soon began struggling as your arms started to tremble, but the man quickly caught on and kneeled in front of you.
Slipping your underwear down past your legs, he quickly slid on the pair of clean boxers he had onto you and paced towards another part of the house without a word.
You looked around the room, feeling troubled that you were alone in such a big room without company anymore.
You stared down at your dry shirt and read the print of letters “Naples”, scattered on your chest. You assumed they were his.
Before you could peer down at the boxers, the man came in with a plate in hand, steam emitting from the top.
“Here is some soup so that you can feel better, Stella.” He stopped in front of you, taking a seat.
“Here,” He scooped the liquid with the spoon in hand, feeding you gently.
The warmth of the soup soothes your dry throat and you hum lightly, feeling your body shudder as the spoon retracts. As he goes for another spoonful, this time, you don't open your mouth.
Bruno’s eyes softened. “You have to eat, bella, please.” He urged, cupping your chin softly. “Your fever…it’s…”
Your chest tightened, eyes puddling with tears. The man’s eyes widened, the guilt on his face pinging your heart like thorns.
You exhaled, shaking your head in uncertainty. “Why…?” You stared at his blue eyes, allowing the tears to fall down.
The stranger sighed softly, lowering the spoon back to the liquid. You gulped as his eyes finally locked with yours.
“I wouldn’t live with myself if I had left a person on the cold road to die.” He responded, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “My name is Bruno Bucciarati. I am here to protect you, Y/n.”
“You found her on the streets?”
“Yes…she has a very high fever and I…I’m afraid to leave her side.”
“Bruno, you just found her. Why are you getting so-”
“Abbacchio, please.”
You rolled around against the long couch and looked at the two men in front of you.
“Bruno…?” You croaked, the man’s gaze quickly shooting towards you. You stared up at the unknown man next to him, his clothing seeming drastically different than what you’ve ever seen before.
Long white hair, dark lipstick, a dark lapelless coat with laces across his bare chest, and a scowl on his face.
“Oh look, the brat’s awake now.” He stared at you, eyeing you funnyly like he was disgusted by you.
Your eyes began watering.
“Abbacchio!” Bruno scowled, glaring at his friend, pacing towards you immediately.
“I’m sorry, cara.” Bruno apologized as you wiped your tears angrily, surprised by how easily that upset you.
Abbacchio scoffed, blinking sullenly as he looked away.
“How are you feeling…?” He wiped some hair from your face, smiling softly at you.
“My headache is a little better, thanks to you Bruno.” You sniffled a bit.
You looked from the corner of your eye and saw Abbacchio was staring at you, trying to listen in.
“I’m going to make you some breakfast, wait right here Stella.” Bruno got to his feet, walking off into the kitchen, leaving you and the raven alone.
You stared at Abbacchio, and he stared back.
One of his eyebrows perked. “What do you want, brat?” His deep voice announces, pinged with irritation.
Your lip trembled lightly, frown growing quickly.
What an asshole.