Work With Me -Bruno Buccellati x Reader-

18- Night visiters

It wasn't easy. But then again nothing important ever was. You sat alone on a park bench, staring out at the pigeon flock that was curiously pecking at the floor, scattering each other with bold flaps on their wings and occasionally calls that echoed in your ears. 

You were hurting, something inside of you was sore and aching, some unfamiliar longing that burned like smouldering embers on a dying fire. You dragged your eyes off of the floor and raised them to the sky. Where was Bruno now? What was he doing? You imagined he was already over it, laughing and talking with an old friend, drinking in a quaint cafe like nothing had ever happened. You pictured his smile, it had never faltered because of you, his eyes weren't puffy and red, his throat wasn't hoarse from hours of sobbing. 

To him, you imagined, it would be like you simply never existed. 

~~~~~~~~

The phone had rung several times since you returned. It was probably someone demanding money, and you let it ring. Never even considering answering it, because what was the point? You didn't want to listen to them, whoever it was, because it would never be comforting news. Nobody ever rung with something good to say, it was never friends inviting you out, never family making sure you're ok. To you, the phone ringing only meant annoyances, and you didn't think it was strange to not want to deal with that.

So you didn't. You listened to the continuous ringing and found comfort in the noise. It was a strange, sick comfort, the concept that you had decided not to be ruled by it. Before, you dreaded the noise, jumped up when it rang and prepared to beg to whoever it was calling. Now, you had taken back at least some control, refusing it was like refusing the familigia in a way, but that thought didn't bother you as much as it used to. The familigia, it had only caused you pain. You wanted to refuse it, but you knew you couldn't- not really. You were stuck in it now, but these small actions of rebellion excited you. 

That was until it wasn't just the phone anymore.

One night, you were halfway through a bottle of something, dozing in your bed, letting your heavy eyelids flutter close, when there was a knocking at the door. You thought nothing of it, letting them knock, waiting for them to leave. 

But the didn't leave, their fists came down harder, pounding on the door with such force you thought it might fall off its hinges. So you got up, nervously approached the door and dared to look through the peephole. 

It was somebody you recognised, but you weren't sure that was a good thing. 

"Mista?" You said, opening the door just a crack.

"The Don has been calling you, you haven't answered." He says, his gun is dangerously visible in the front of his trousers. You swallow,

"That was him? I'm sorry, I never answer the phone," You try to smile, "I'm not normally home in all honesty."

"It doesn't matter now, he's chosen to come to you."

"..He has?.." 

"Yeah, but don't worry," Mista seems to break character, grinning at you, "You're not in trouble or anything."

You feel your shoulders relax, and you sigh, "I suppose that's good,"

"You better come with me then, he's waiting in the car."

You nod, following Mista outside to where a sleek, black car is waiting for you. The windows are tinted black, but one rolls down and you see Narancia smiling at you from inside,

"Y/N!"

You manage a little wave. Mista opens the door for you and you step inside. He takes the drivers seat, and you notice Giorno's bright blonde hair in the passenger side. Narancia moves over to make more room for you.

"I'm glad I got to see you again, Y/N. I heard about what happened with Bruno, I thought you might be gone forever."

You laugh, "it's alright, I'm back now." You turn to face the Don, "What's this about?"

"You were Bruno's secretary, right? I was wondering about how you felt working for me."

"You came all the way here to ask me to be your secretary?" You ask, catching Narancia's eyes- he's grinning, covering his mouth to try not to laugh.

"It's more than that, I don't like the way you and Bruno ended up."

"Thanks, but I don't need relationship counselling." You stare out of the window. You knew it would never be as simple as a job offer. What does it matter to him if you and Bruno didn't work out? You knew he was your boss, but you felt no obligation to do everything he says, especially if it involved Bruno.

"It's not counselling, I'm just offering you the position. But, you should be aware that Bruno visits often, I won't have arguments between the two of you.

The car slows at a red light. You fix your eyes on something outside. The work would be good, but that's what you thought last time- that it would just be good work. You crossed your arms, mulling it over in your mind. It was only Bruno, he would only stop by, you could always find something to do to avoid speaking to him.

But you wanted to speak to him.

You looked to Narancia as the car began moving again, he had put on his headphones, listening to something instead of paying much attention. You sighed,

"Fine."

"I thought you would say that." Giorno sounds satisfied. 

You shift in your chair, making yourself comfortable. It's dark, the moon is chasing the car, glinting through the window. It's a couple hours to Napoli, so you decided to catch some rest before you're once more thrown back into work.