#giomis angst is all i live for these days | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lustastarte · 1 year

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✧♤ colorblind | bruabba ♤✧

genre: fluff/EXTREME angst

abbacchio spent his whole life living in greyscale, until bruno, an upcoming superstar’s manager, steps into his office.

published: 2023

sprinkled with giomis and fugonara au where they’re all in the music business, also based off a soulmate au where you are colorblind until you meet your soulmate

TW: CHARACTER DEATH(S), MENTIONS OF DEPRESSION, SUICIDE

if you wish for this one-shot to have a happy ending, please stop reading when bruno asks abbacchio to move in with him. after that, it becomes very, very dark in nature and i am informing you again as a friend that if it will put you in a bad mindset, DO NOT go any farther than the scene i mentioned before.

Ever since he was born, Abbacchio only saw the world in black and white. He walked the sidewalk, watching the dull, dark, dreary skyline pass by. It was like watching a film from the 1930s, except this one had sound. ‘Achromatopsia’ is what the doctors called it, but they could never tell him why he had it so he never let it stop him. Abbacchio could hear the city life bustle around him, each unique voice standing out to him. He could taste the smog in the air, the pollution dancing on his tongue. He could smell the unique scent of New York City, hot dog steam mixing with a middle-aged man's body odor, an unknown woman's perfume colliding with the exhaust from a bus.

Everything around him told its story in colors, but he would never know. This was how it's always been; an uncolored life made interesting only by his other fully functional senses. His job? Producing music, selling hit songs with colorless album covers. Listening to beautiful voices coming from colorless people. Releasing genius albums, consumed by colorless customers. Answering important calls with colorless managers in his colorless office. Abbacchio was so tired of the day-to-day experience being nothing more than a charcoal sketch.

It’s not that he dislikes the greyscale world he’s been placed in, not at all. Black is an elegant color to him, it reminds him of licorice, his favorite flavor as a child, and of protection. He loves grey, it makes him think of the smell of rain on pavement and compromising on a place to eat dinner. White is delicate to him, it reminds him of the snowy winters he’s used to and the fluffy clouds that dot the light grey sky.

After staying all day in his black and white studio, he returns to his black and white apartment, greeting his roommate as he walks through the door.

"Hey Nara, I'm back," Abbacchio called as he shuffled his way toward his room.

"Did you sign that uh-," Narancia paused, trying to remember the artist's name. "-Mint guy?"

Abbacchio furrowed his eyebrows and lifted one half of his upper lip in confusion, and Narancia tried again. "Mister? Mista? Whatever the fuck his name is."

"Oh, him. Yeah, he came by today and showed me his skills. I think I'm going to sign him."

"You should, we need to get a new artist out there. Imagine the headlines! 'NG Record Company: The Big Break!' " He swiped his hand in the air as he spoke.

Abbacchio sighed as his friend rambled on and on about how big their company would make it once they signed Mista. Narancia was wired to think this way; he was the company's CEO, after all.

"But don't you need to listen to his demo first?"

"I guess I do. Did you bring it home?"

"No," Abbacchio laughed. "You know I never bring work home."

Narancia sighed and propped his forehead up with his palm, leaving his head in his hand for a few seconds before lifting it back up.

"I'm so distracted right now that I forgot, I'm sorry," he explained, smiling.

"Ooh, what are you distracted about?"

Narancia chuckled after seeing the sly smile on his roommate's face. "Well, you see, it's kinda complicated."

"How about I order dinner and you tell me every little detail? I have all night," Abbacchio suggested.

"You've got yourself a deal."

Within minutes, there was a knock at the door signaling the arrival of their pizza. Abbacchio paid, closed the door, and then set the two boxes down on the coffee table. He fell back onto the couch, looking over at his best friend and whispering, "Spill."

Narancia sighed heavily. "Okay, so you know how today was my day off, right?"

Abbacchio nodded, and the other continued.

"I decided I was going to treat myself today, maybe go shopping, go out to eat lunch, grab a coffee. You know, stuff for me. Anyway, there was this really cute guy at the restaurant, who I somehow got into a conversation with. He had this platinum blonde hair and these big red eyes, but his voice blew me off my feet. He had this bright green suit on that was obviously from a top-level designer and he didn’t seem even the slightest bit insecure. He was so beautiful," Narancia gushed, thinking about the man.

"What's his name?"

"Pannacotta Fugo," the oldest swooned before continuing. "I ended up getting his number, and I'm scared to text him. I don't know how to function, I'm awkward, how the hell am I supposed to text him? I can't even pick up my phone without shaking!"

Abbacchio laughed, shaking his head; he had never seen Narancia get like this over anyone. He stopped laughing when he was hit with a remote.

“Hey, what the fuck? Quit throwing shit at me, brat!”

"Don't laugh! This is serious!"

Abbacchio rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to text him for you? I promise I won't say anything weird."

"Sure," Narancia agreed, handing Abbacchio his phone.

Narancia:

Hey, it's Narancia

The older man handed the phone back with a small jerk. “See? I told you it wouldn’t be weird.”

“Thank y-”

Ping!

Fugo:

Hey You know, I thought you were a pretty cool guy

Narancia squealed, ripping the phone out of Abbacchio's hand.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, what do I say?!”

“What you would have said in person, stupid bitch.” Abbacchio bit into a slice of pizza.

Narancia:

Thank you! You're really cool too We should talk more

Fugo:

Yeah, we should

Abbacchio was cheering for Narancia, a piece of pizza hanging out of his mouth. "I told you it would be fine! I’m happy for you, Nara!"

But even though he smiled and cheered for Narancia, he felt lonely. He didn't know what Narancia meant when he said Fugo had blonde hair, red eyes, and a green suit. He didn't know what it felt like to even crush on someone. He only knew his lonely, black-and-white world. With his mind running like this, there was no chance at sleep that night.

"I'm heading to the studio, are you coming now or waiting until we open?"

"I'm coming with you," Narancia said from the bathroom as he neatly combed his black hair and straightened his tie. Abbacchio held the door for him, yawning and rubbing his tired eyes as he walked out and climbed into the passenger side of the younger's car.

Luckily, parking was easy to find that morning, and traffic wasn’t nearly as horrific as it could have been.

"Good luck in your meeting, Nara," Abbacchio said, patting Narancia's back.

"Thanks Abba, I'll need it," he responded with a nervous smile, walking into his office. Abbacchio kept walking, making his way to his studio. He had a few good hours to make tracks before he had to call Mista's manager, and he would be damned if he didn’t put them to good use.

Time flew by as he laid down samples and recordings, creating a masterpiece. He could have cried as he played the finished track. Never in his entire career had he finished a track that fast, and never in his career had he been so proud of a track of his. As the track ended, he heard a knock on his studio door.

"Come in," he said, just loud enough for the person on the other side to hear.

"Hey, Mr. Abbacchio? Your conference call with Mr. Buccellati is about to begin," his assistant, Giorno, notified him.

"Thanks for the heads up, Giorno," he said with a nod at the blonde.

Not five minutes later, his phone rang in his office.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Abbacchio," a bright tenor voice said from the other end.

"Please, call me Leone. And what should I call you?"

"Call me Bruno. Mr. Buccellati is much too formal."

"Will do. How are you?"

"I'm great! How are you?"

"I'm doing just fine, thanks for asking. Anyway, let's get down to business."

"Yes, how was the demo?"

"It was beautiful, I'm quite pleased by it. Personally, I think he'll be a great addition to the company, but I have to talk to the higher-ups first."

"That's great news! Do you mind if I bring Mista in?"

"Yes, please, call him in. I want to tell him how he did."

Abbacchio heard the door open and close softly on the other line, the shuffling of feet, and a chair being moved.

"Hi, Mr. Abbachio."

"Mista, can I just say your demo was amazing? I was amazed by your vocals, and I think you'd be a great addition to NG. If the big man says yes, you're in. What do you say?"

"Are you really offering me a spot?"

Abbacchio could hear the disbelief in the boy's voice. "Yes, definitely. So? What do you say?"

"Of course!"

"And what do you say, Bruno?"

"I say let's do it."

After that, Mista left the room and the two men decided on a date to have a meeting, and ended the call. Abbacchio had never had such a good feeling on any given day, much less about a new signee. His studio door swung open, scaring him.

"Abba? Abba!"

"Shut up, Nara. You know I'm in here."

"Listen, that was the single most boring meeting I've ever been in. All the board talked about was money, not the music!"

"Jesus Christ, calm down Narancia," Abbacchio said. "It's not like they care about the music, you know that. They aren't like us."

Narancia shrugged, plopping down in the chair beside his roommate with a heavy sigh.

"And that isn't even the worst part," he sighed. "They gave me a shit ton of paperwork. I'm gonna be here until 3 a.m.!"

"I mean," Abbacchio started, sitting up. "I could stay and help you. Maybe Giorno might even join."

The younger nodded, before asking about the conference call.

"I think it went well. Bruno certainly seemed happy, and so did Mista. I think we should sign them," Abbacchio said, looking toward Narancia.

"I think we should too."

"So it's a yes for Mista?"

Narancia smiled and nodded just as someone knocked on Abbacchio's door.

"Giorno, you don't have to knock," he said, being able to pick out his assistant's timid knocking.

"Sorry Mr. Abbachio," the young man apologized, shyly smiling.

"It's okay, but just walk in, okay?"

"Alright. Anyway, I was sent here to help Mr. Ghirga with his paperwork by the other assistant."

"You can go home if you'd like, you've worked hard all week."

"I think I'll stay and help," he says happily, smiling at the two men.

"Thank you, Giorno. You're a big help around here," Abbacchio admits.

"It's no problem, Mr. Abbacchio."

"Please, call me Abbacchio or Leone."

"O-Of course! And Mr. Ghirga, I'll get started on that paperwork now, if you'd like," Giorno said, eager to work.

"You can call me Narancia. Here's a third of the stack, thank you again for helping me out.”

"It's my pleasure!"

The trio finished the stack of paperwork at 11 p.m., far earlier than Narancia had expected. Abbacchio dismissed Giorno, giving him half the day off the next day, then he and Narancia locked up and left for their shared apartment.

"Narancia," Giorno's voice poured into Narancia's office through the intercom.

"Yes?"

"You have a visitor by the name of Pannacotta Fugo. Permission to send him up?"

"Oh!" Narancia jumped up out of his chair. "I mean, yes, please send him up."

"He'll be there in a few minutes."

Knock knock knock.

"Come in."

Fugo walked in confidently, brushing a stray hair back into place. "I was wondering... Is your lunch break free?"

"It always is," Narancia said, smiling at the man. "Why?"

"Well," he whispered, looking up. "I was wondering if you'd let me take you out for lunch?"

"No," Narancia began. Fugo looked crestfallen before he continued, "but I'll take you out."

"Why won't you let me take you out?"

"I just feel like paying for you today."

"But you did this last time...?"

Narancia laughed. "I guess I feel like paying for you every day. You better get used to it."

Fugo smiled and shook his head, chuckling. "Well, are we going or not?"

"Of course we are," Narancia confirmed, getting up from his chair and grabbing Fugo's arm to lead him out.

Narancia:

Hey Abba, I'm going with Fugo for lunch, if anyone asks, I died and I don't want them looking for me I’ll be back at like 2 I think maybe

Abbacchio:

Okay, I’ll be in the studio Have fun Wear a condom, no stds

Narancia:

Ew wtf???? You’re stupid and gross and I hate you Read by Abbacchio at 12:59

"Giorno," the sound of Abbacchio's voice booming from the intercom made Giorno jump.

"Y-Yes sir?"

"You don't need to call me sir, its okay, and come to my studio ASAP."

"I'll be there quickly," Giorno said, cleaning his desk a little before nearly running to his boss' studio. He was nervous, anything could happen. Had he done anything wrong? Was he going to get fired? These thoughts only scared him even more as he knocked on the door.

"Giorno, what did I say about knocking? You don't have to knock on the do-," Abbacchio abruptly stopped speaking when he opened the door and saw his trainee's face. "Oh my god, are you okay? You look like a piece of paper, do you need to go home?"

"Sorry, I forgot. I'm just nervous, I don't know if I'm about to get fired or what," he said apologetically.

"Don't apologize, it's okay. But why would I fire you? You're the hardest worker here. I'm making you my understudy."

Giorno choked. "You're what?"

"Teaching you how to make music. And once you do that, I'm going to give you a production spot here."

"Why?"

"I've seen the way you study music. You clearly know a lot, I mean, you can do my paperwork with no problem."

"Thank you," Giorno managed to get out, attempting to keep his composure. He had been dreaming of this position for years.

Abbacchio pulled him into a short, father-like hug. Giorno was like his son, although he didn’t know that yet. He motioned his apprentice into the studio, and began working with him. Hours later, Giorno knew the basics of making a track, and as he sat there doing that, Abbacchio snuck out to buy them both a coffee and some snacks. They'd be there all night.

Around 3 a.m., both men had fallen asleep. Giorno had his head on Abbacchio's desk, and Abbacchio's head was on his hand, supported by his arm. Empty coffee cups and wrappers lay all around the room and clustered around the trash can. The track Giorno was working on was playing quietly in the background. A soft ballad, reminiscent of a lullaby or an 80's love song. The pages of lyrics Abbacchio was writing were scattered around his portion of the desk, his pencil attached to one of them. It was a chaotic mess, but somehow beautiful nonetheless. It must've been the coffee or the music, but a bond was created that night that could never be broken.

Narancia walked into Abbacchio's studio the next morning, looking for the roommate that never came home. Inside, he found Abbacchio and Giorno asleep, and while it was adorable to see them bonding, he needed to wake them up. Abbacchio had a meeting later that day with Mista's manager, Bruno Buccellati, and Giorno had to interview Mista and keep him out of the way.

"Hey idiot," He said, smacking Abbacchio's arm out from under his head and laughing when his forehead hid the desk. "Get up, you have a meeting in two hours."

He then gently shook Giorno awake, earning a slap to the back of the head and a few not-so-nice words from Abbacchio.

"Good morning, Giorno."

"Morning, Narancia."

"Hey, you have an interview with that Mista guy today, you need to run home and get ready. Take as long as you need, just be back before 1 p.m.," Narancia said, patting a sleepy Giorno on the back. "You too, Abbacchio."

Both producers left to get cleaned up, and Narancia spent the time they were gone texting Fugo and grabbing food for them. When they returned, he handed out coffees and breakfast to each and told them to eat quickly. Within no time, Mista and Mr. Buccellati were standing in front of Giorno's desk.

Giorno put on his brightest smile and straightened his posture. "Hello and welcome to NG Records! How may I help you today?"

"We're here for a meeting with Mr. Leone Abbacchio," the shorter out of the two strangers stated as the tallest stared in awe at Giorno.

"Which one of you is Mr- Uh-” Giorno looked down at his clipboard. “Mr. Guido Mista?"

"Me," the tallest said quietly, smoothing his shirt.

"Alright," Giorno began, smiling at his nervous antics. "When I lead Mr. Buccellati to Mr. Abbacchio’s office, you’ll continue following me."

"Sure," Mista managed to get out before Giorno stood up and began to walk down the hall. He couldn't help but stare at the man in front of him.

His small frame, perfectly braided hair, sharp jawline, slightly pointy nose, long legs, and his bright green eyes were all too much for Mista. Only when Giorno turned around did he stop staring, but even then, he continued to concentrate on the man's beautiful face, eyes forcefully wandering every once in a while to appear less obvious.

"Here you are Mr. Buccellati," Giorno said, smiling, before he knocked on the door. "Mr. Abbacchio, you have a visitor."

"Come in," Abbacchio said, Giorno immediately opening the door for the man.

"Thank you, Giorno."

"No problem, sir," he said, closing the door and motioning for Mista to follow him.

Once they reached Giorno's office, he held the door for Mista.

"Please, have a seat."

Mista sat down quickly, watching the man's every move.

"Okay, these are pretty cliche questions, but they’re all very important, so please take them seriously and answer honestly.”

“I can do that,” Mista gave the other a sort of dopey grin, smoothing his clothes out again.

“Thank you. Can you tell me where you see yourself in five years?"

"I see myself with a family and a place at this company as an international superstar."

"Those are some big dreams," Giorno said quietly before smiling. "I like it. Why did you pick this company?"

"The others turned me down when they saw me, they thought I was 'too pretty to sing.' But then I visited Mr. Abbacchio one day, and he gladly listened to my demo. I just felt like I needed to apply here."

Giorno nodded in an approving manner, making Mista turn his head away and blush. He began writing furiously in a messy cursive that Mista couldn’t quite read, looking back up at the other every couple of sentences.

"Alright, one more question. Can I uh-," Giorno stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. "Can I have your number? It's just for business and… medical… purposes..."

Mista knew that Giorno wouldn't need his number for business, he had his manager's.

"Can I see your phone?"

In the contact information, he put "Guido Mista; for personal use," and handed the phone back to Giorno with his dopey, shit-eating grin. Giorno laughed, hiding his face a little.

"I think I should get you back to Mr. Buccellati. You answered the questions well, though. It's a yes from me."

"What are the questions for anyway? Or can you not tell me?"

"Leo- Mr. Abbachio just does them to throw people off, but also to see if they have a good heart. We don’t want any of those two-faced celebrities here."

"Oh, that makes a lot of sense," Mista said, chuckling.

"Cute," Giorno whispered, smiling and pulling out his phone.

"W-What?"

"I said cue! Mr. Ghirga just messaged me saying that Mr. Abbacchio and Mr. Buccellati are almost done. We should get going."

"Alright…"

Mista could've sworn Giorno said 'cute,' not 'cue,' but apparently he misheard. Maybe he should stop listening to his music as loud as he has been. They stopped just outside Abbacchio's office, standing awkwardly close.

"Thank you for coming, Bruno! I'll get back to you later."

"Oh, it's no problem, Leone," Bruno said, slightly flustered. "I enjoyed our conversation."

Abbacchio opened the door for Bruno, shaking his hand on the way out.

Giorno nodded toward him with a soft smile. "Shall I lead you out?"

"Of course, Mr....?"

"Giorno Giovanna, sir. But just call me Giorno," he finished, smiling at Bruno, but his eyes lingered on Mista.

"Well then of course, Giorno."

And with that, Giorno turned around and began walking with a simple, "Follow me."

"Mr. Abbacchio, you have a visitor."

"Come in. Thank you, Giorno," Abbacchio said without looking up.

"No problem, sir."

The door closed, and Abbacchio finally looked up.

It started from the man in his office, and spread around the room. Abbacchio could only sit there and watch as his office turned from black and white to an otherworldly looking place. He couldn’t help but stand silent in his shock and graze his eyes over the room.

There was this one trinket in the corner of his office that looked like it had been painted the color of anger, of endless love and passion. Of heartbreak and your wildest dreams. Primal energy, the heat of the desert, and the urge to rise to power. The color looked like the taste of cinnamon and the smell of strawberry wine.

The pencil on Abbacchio's desk had been coated with a pigment reminiscent of warmth, determination, and flamboyance. It reminded him of his success, gas-lit lamps, glow sticks, and summer. Abrasive prestigiousness. It was the taste of honey and the smell of sweet, tropical citrus.

The drink on his desk was bright, but pastel. It was the epitome of happiness; it made Abbacchio excited. It looked like what it felt like to stand in the sun on a spring day. It was both the feeling of being sick and being thrown a surprise birthday party. Intelligence and positive energy, the warmth of a fire. It was the taste of sour candies and the smell of flowers.

The plants in his office were a pleasing color. It looked like the smell of a freshly cut lawn. It was like the feeling of morning dew on grass. It reminded him of a filthy rich person, or the gut-sinking, chest-burning feeling of envy. A fresh start, a mountain retreat, and good-health. It was the taste of mushrooms and spinach and the smell of pine needles.

He focused on Bruno's eyes. They were a rich color, one that radiates the feeling of safety. Of coming home to that special someone, or swimming in the clouds. It was sadness and calmness all in the same. Just like the one before, it screamed nature, even though it seemed so unnatural. It was the taste of freshly baked muffins and the smell of the sea.

He looked at the flowers in the vase on his desk. They were a deep color, but vibrant nonetheless. He loved this one the most. You'd expect such a color to be on the shoulders of noblemen and women. It reminded Abbacchio of wisdom, dignity, independence, and devotion. It was the taste of a lavender-vanilla tea and the smell of a velvet dress doused in high-end perfume.

Finally, he looked down at the desk. Out of all the others, it matched the most with the plants in the office. It was a deep color, one crafted by Mother Earth herself. Strength, stability, and even comfort. Antiquated furniture and jewelry, nature, the safety of one’s home, and the heart of bustling cities in one. It was the taste of tiramisu and coffee and the smell of old books and fresh, soft soil full of humus.

"Leone? Are you okay? You look startled," Bruno cooed, snapping Abbacchio back to reality.

"Y-Yeah, yep, I'm great, I just um-... Remembered something."

"Alright, let’s get started, shall we?"

"Yeah! Okay, so far, Mista is looking extremely eligible for this job."

"Great! What did you think of his demo?"

"Not only did I love it, but Mr. Ghirga, our CEO, loved it. He hardly ever approves of clients."

"Oh wow," Bruno breathed in. "That's amazing!"

"Yeah! And don't worry about what will happen to you, you'll still be his manager, but you get a job here too if he makes it through. The only hurdle is that he does have to make it through Giorno."

"The kid who brought me here?" He doesn't look threatening," Bruno was confused. What could that skinny boy even do?

"He only asks two questions, but can almost completely figure out how a person works through those two questions," Abbacchio explained. "Only two, and he knows almost everything about you but the specifics of your life story. It's freaky, but really amazing and kind of helpful."

Bruno smiled. He really liked Abbacchio's voice. And his hair. And his face... He liked everything. Although he doesn't believe in love at first sight, he feels like he's liked this man for a while. All he did was walk in the room and boom , he's crushing. Bruno fell hard for no real reason. Was it love? Bruno doubted it. It was probably just a temporary crush, started by his brain getting tired of being lonely.

He was so concentrated on the said crush that he didn't notice when Abbacchio said, "I think we're done for now."

"Bruno?"

"O-Oh, sorry, I zoned out for a second."

"This is the seventh time you've zoned out in the last 5 minutes. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Bruno said, hastily gathering his papers into a folder.

"Alright," Abbacchio muttered, not believing the man in front of him.

"Oh, before I go, take this," Bruno spoke quickly, handing Abbacchio a piece of paper, telling him goodbye, and closing the door behind him.

Abbacchio opened the piece of paper.

Bruno B. - xxx-xxx-xxxx :D

Abbacchio's heart fluttered for some unknown reason, but he only blamed it on the coffee he had earlier. He opened the door and stepped aside for Bruno. Giorno greeted him as he walked out the door and began to lead him out.

"How was the meeting, Mr. Buccellati?"

"Good! It went well," Bruno said, beginning to walk down the hall. "How was your interview with Mista?"

Giorno spoke first. "Mista did well. I still have to evaluate his answers, but overall, he's looking good."

Mista opened his mouth to speak, only to whisper, "Giorno was nice," to Bruno.

Soon the trio reached the door, and Giorno held it open for them as they exited.

"Thanks, Giorno. I'll message you later about... business stuff," Mista said quickly, waving awkwardly and running to catch up with Bruno.

Giorno bit his lip to hide a giddy smile as he walked back inside. He grabbed Narancia's attention on his way to Abbacchio's office, excited to hear how the interview went. The men almost kicked the door down in their haste to talk to Abbacchio.

"Jesus Christ!"

They had startled Abbacchio, who was already shocked as he tried to take in all the new colors around him. Hues he's never even imagined before.

"So, how'd it go?"

"What were you doing just a second ago? You’re acting suspicious."

Abbacchio rolled his eyes. "It went well, and I was... looking at everything."

"What?" Narancia laughed.

"I can see color now! I don't know how it happened, but Bruno just walked in and everything exploded before my eyes!"

"Whoa, really?" Giorno asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah!" Abbacchio laughed in excitement. "It's all so..."

"So pretty?"

"No, bright was the word I was going for, Nara. But yes, pretty too,” he paused for a second. “Is-… Is it all like this?”

“Is what all like this?” Giorno tilted his head, brows tilted down.

“The world, everything?”

Narancia grabbed Abbacchio’s hand. “We need to show you something.”

"Hurry up, idiot, you're gonna miss it all!"

"Listen," Abbacchio panted, placing his hand on his knees and hunching over in an attempt to catch his breath. "I think I'm dying."

"You'll be fine, grandpa. Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you can’t move."

"And you'll be fine without a job, I'm guessing? Cause that's where you're headed Giorno."

Giorno laughed, knowing full well Abbacchio would never fire him. "Alright, grandpa, your break is over. Let's go, you have things to see."

“I can’t see shit if you don’t let me take my blindfold off.”

Narancia almost dragged Abbacchio out of the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel, and into Battery Park in Manhattan. He told him to stand still and finally removed his blindfold. Any breath Abbacchio had regained was ripped out of him as he looked out upon the park that he had never seen in color.

"Look, Abbacchio! You see those trees?"

"Yeah?"

"Those are green and brown. And that taxi? That's yellow!"

"It's really bright."

Giorno pointed to the sky. "That's blue."

Abbacchio smiled. "I like blue… Bruno’s eyes were blue."

"You see that girl's shirt? That's orange. And Giorno's suit? That’s pink. And that bird over there! Look at that bird, that's red!"

Narancia was ecstatic about pointing all the colors out to his best friend. "Look at those flowers. They're purple, or violet, whichever you want to say," He said, beaming.

"What's that one?" Abbacchio pointed at a girl's bright hair.

"That's mint green. It's a pretty color," Giorno explained.

"What about that one?" He looked at a man's shirt.

"That's maroon.”

Abbacchio stopped, taking a deep, cleansing breath. He could've cried as he looked over that color-filled park for the first time. He never knew something could be so beautiful, so colorful. He looked over at Giorno, almost choking when he saw how green his eyes were, how his blonde hair glinted, and his suit stood out against the natural green of the park.

He turned his attention to Narancia, jumping back at the sight of his hair. He never knew black could be purple in the sun. His skin was tan and his orange accessories stood out like a neon sign against a vantablack wall. His eyes were the same royal purple Abbacchio saw on his desk.

"Wait… What do I look like?"

"Oh my god, you've never seen yourself in color before," Giorno said in disbelief.

"We need to get you a mirror now," Narancia said before grabbing Abbacchio's hand again and dragging him back onto the subway, in search of a shop with a mirror inside.

Almost two weeks later, Abbacchio had just gotten used to a life in color. He had just gotten used to the feeling he gets when someone even mentions Bruno. He had just decided on whether he was going to sign Mista or not. He had just decided on how he felt about Bruno. He had just decided that when his heart flutters and all the blood rushes to his face, it was because of Bruno. Abbacchio had just decided that he should send his first message.

Abbacchio:

Bruno:

Oh, hey! I'm glad you texted, I was just thinking about you

Abbacchio:

Oh wow, that's strange I mean I'm not complaining I mean I'm no| I mean| I| So how are you?

Bruno:

Better now that I'm talking to you Better now that I'm ta| Better now t| Bett| I'm good, how are you?

Abbacchio:

Great, thanks for asking :) So anyways, I have something big to tell you

Bruno:

Ooh, what's up?

Abbacchio:

I need a countdown 10 9 8 7

Bruno:

Abbacchio just tell me

Abbacchio:

No 6 5 4 3 2 1 I'm.....

Bruno:

Abbacchio, I will not hesitate to block you

Abbacchio: Okay, damn I'm signing Mista! You both start Monday

Bruno:

ARE YOU SERIOUS?? THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

Abbacchio:

Welcome to NG Records, I'm glad to have you Welcome to NG records, I'm glad to ha| Welcome to NG records, I'm| Welcome to NG Records, we're glad to have you

Bruno:

I need to thank you, can I take you out for dinner later? I'll pay for it Wherever you want to go We need to talk about business

Abbacchio:

Yeah, that'd be great, see you later :)

Bruno:

See you :)

Abbacchio met Bruno at a semi-crowded, semi-fancy restaurant, dressed like he was going to an important meeting.

"How many?"

"Just two," Bruno said, smiling at the hostess behind the desk, who quickly became flustered.

"O-Okay, right this way!"

"Looks like you have a girlfriend," Abbacchio teased, wiggling his eyebrows at Bruno.

"What? I don't even like girls."

"What?"

Bruno shrugged, sitting down at the table the hostess stopped at. Abbacchio brushed off what Bruno had said, figuring he was just joking.

Not long after they had gotten their food, they began talking about business. And not long after that, they got sidetracked.

"So, I need advice."

"Spill," Abbacchio said, placing his hand on his fist, propping his chin on it and smirking at Bruno, who felt his heart leap out of his chest.

"Alright. This is gonna sound like I’m back in high school… I think I have a small crush on one of my friends, and I don't know how to even function around them. I want to tell them, but I can't because I don't know how."

"What are they like?"

"Well," Bruno began, the dreamy smile already on his face. "He- They're really nice to me, but also mean, but in a joking way. They really like music, and they're really cool and hot and I just-."

He sighed, looking at Abbacchio. "You know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Abbacchio confirmed, eyeing Bruno. He was strangely envious of the person Bruno was gushing over.

"So what do I do?"

"I'd tell them as soon as possible. Don't keep them waiting."

"Thank you so much," Bruno said, grinning from ear-to-ear.

"So what do they look like?"

"Oh, well, they have the softest looking skin, such a sharp nose, and these eyes that have a color I’ve never seen replicated. I love looking at them and I love being with them. It’s been nice because I’ve spent a good deal of my time with them recently."

Abbacchio unknowingly formed fists under the table, clenching his jaw and forcing himself to smile. Why was he so angry? He doesn't even know Bruno that well.

"Maybe it's just a false alarm," he thought to himself.

Soon the night ended, and the two men parted ways. Abbacchio took the shortest route home, eager to get Narancia's opinion on the situation.

"I'm home, stupid."

"Hey, you're back! How'd it go?"

"It was... good."

Narancia raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

Abbacchio sighed. "He was talking about his crush and I just-," he looked around. "I got jealous, but I don't know why. Why was I jealous?"

"Ooh, sounds like someone has a crush," Narancia teased, poking Abbacchio repeatedly.

"I do not have a crush."

"Yes you do, don't deny it!"

"I don't ."

"Whatever makes you sleep at night," Narancia said, shrugging.

About three months later, Bruno stood outside a nice sweet shoppe, waiting for Abbacchio. He was eager to see Abbacchio, even though he sees him every day at work. He was excited to see Abbacchio even though they meet almost every day for lunch. He was excited to see Abbacchio, even though they talk for hours a day.

"Hey!"

"Hey," Abbacchio said, chuckling at the way Bruno ran up to him like a puppy that hasn't seen their owner in a year. They gave one another a friendly hug, both of them wishing it were more.

"Fugo has our food out on a table for us already, so we should go inside."

"Fugo? That's the name of the guy Narancia won't shut up about."

"Oh really? Someone I know is head-over-heels too, I'll tell you about it inside."

"But wait, how did you know what I'd want?"

"You order the exact same thing every single time we come here," Bruno said, laughing at his forgetfulness. Abbacchio rolled his eyes in a playful manner and opened the door for Bruno.

The pair sat down at their usual table, waving at Fugo before continuing their conversation.

Bruno took a few shaky breaths. “I need to talk to you about something."

"Shoot."

"Well uh..."

"Come on, you can tell me."

"Y-You know what my shirt is made out of? Boyfriend material."

Abbacchio laughed. "That's cute, who's the lucky one?"

"You."

Abbacchio shook his head. "Come on, quit playing."

"I'm not! I really do like you, Leone. A lot, actually," Bruno said shyly, awkwardly smiling and looking away from the man he was talking to.

"I-"

"I know you don't like me back. I know you're straight. I know whatever is about to come out of your mouth. You don't have to tell me."

"Bruno, you're wrong. To be honest, I have feelings for you too and I have for a while now. So yes, your shirt is boyfriend material, but now it's Leone’s boyfriend material."

"What?"

"We are dating, right? Or do I have to ask?"

"I-I don't know, do you want to?"

"I think I do. Do you?"

"I think I do too."

Abbacchio smiled. "Then it's settled, you're mine."

"I- Okay," Bruno gave in, grinning like an idiot.

"Leone’s boyfriend, Bruno," Abbacchio mumbled to himself. "Has a nice ring to it."

Bruno pushed him slightly, a big, blindingly bright smile on his face.

"So anyway, I think I have an idea for Mista's first album."

"Yeah?"

"Imagine this. Pop, but with more acoustic backgrounds and lyrics that aren't all about love."

"I like that a lot, actually," Bruno said, his eyes lighting up.

Bruno watched as Abbacchio's smile widened when he began talking about music. He watched as Abbacchio rambled on and on about how much he was going to enjoy making Mista's tracks. He watched as Abbacchio fell into his own world, a dreamy smile on his face.

Abbacchio rambled on and on for hours, and finally, he was overcome with the sudden urge to sleep. He said his goodbyes to his newfound lover, and headed home.

"How did it go, lover boy?"

"It was amazing, Nara."

"Tell me about it. Everything."

Abbacchio almost exploded with words because he had so much to say. He talked and talked, then talked some more. Narancia listened for an hour or two, and then it was his turn to speak.

"So... I think I'm going to ask Fugo out soon."

"Don't fucking chicken out this time."

"No promises," Narancia said, shrugging. "Also, guess what I saw at the studio today?"

"What?"

"Giorno was flirting with Mista. And guess what else? Mista returned the flirting!"

"I fucking called it," Abbacchio said, smirking. “I told you!”

"Giorno, don't come in to work today."

"Why?"

"Just don't, okay?" Abbacchio urged through the phone.

"Okay?"

The call ended, and Giorno was still as confused as before. The more he thought about it, the better a day off sounded. It wasn't until he had finished getting ready that he realized why Abbacchio said not to come into work.

Knock, knock, knock.

He swung open the door to see Mista standing there, grinning and holding a bag.

"Guido?"

"Don't question it, I'm going to set this down inside and then we're going to go get breakfast."

Giorno laughed, having no idea what was happening. Mista came back out of the kitchen and began talking.

"After breakfast, we're gonna go and play hide-and-seek in the woods."

"Why hide and seek?"

"I'm trying to low-key get rid of you and if I do this then I can act like I couldn't find you and just leave," Mista said, giggling. "Actually, I just think it'll be fun."

Giorno fake-pouted, shoving Mista out of the door and following him out.

"And then we can do whatever you want."

"Why didn't you tell me beforehand?"

"Because your dumb ass is really predictive, and I knew that if Abbacchio gave you the day off, you'd go somewhere. And I'm determined not to be left out."

The small cafe was packed with people, but the couple found a nice, tiny table on the outside patio area. They ate in near silence, until Mista spoke softly.

"Giorno?"

"Yeah?"

"I have something to tell you, but first you have to promise me that this won't make anything weird between us," Mista said worriedly, his fingers twitching out of nervousness.

"Of course it won't," Giorno reassured his friend. "What is it?"

"I think-," Mista stopped, looking around quickly. "I think I like you. I mean, it's obvious, isn't it? I'm always looking at you and trying to make you smile because that beautiful grin is all that I live for, I'm always trying to get closer to you, even though I know you'll never feel the same, I'm always trying to take you on a date, but I call it friendly just so you won't be suspicious, and I- Fuck, I'm rambling," Mista spoke in one burst of air, the sentences pouring out of his mouth at break-neck speed.

Giorno's entire body shut down and went into panic mode. Should he tell Mista how he feels? Should he wait? Should he-

"I like you too," the words escaped his mouth before he could stop them, much louder than he intended.

Shit. Now everyone is looking at them. But the thought of everyone else looking at them melted away when Mista's face lit up. Giorno felt like he had just run a marathon, his heart felt like it was planning on jumping out of his chest and into Mista's palm.

"You do?"

"I- Yes, I do."

Mista had to turn away in an attempt to comprehend what had just occurred, his face glowing and his heart almost punching his rib-cage. He attempted to calm himself down, but with Giorno in front of him, that didn't work.

"Guido? Are you okay?"

"No, I-," Mista stopped speaking, unable to find the words.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, I just didn't think you'd feel the same about me. No one ever has."

"Well, I do, and I don't think it's going away anytime soon," Giorno said softly, smiling and grabbing Mista's hand from across the table.

Mista grinned as he studied Giorno's smile. The smile that brings him so much joy. The smile that he'd do anything for. Giorno laughed as he watched Mista slip into his own world.

Should he ask him out? Would it be too early? Maybe he should wait.

Mista was dreaming about asking Giorno to be his boyfriend. Maybe he could do it when they play hide-and-seek. Maybe he could do it when he takes Giorno back home. Maybe he could do it at work the next day with a small song.

Giorno wonders what Mista thinks about when he zones out. Animals? Music? Food? The possibilities are endless.

"But what if he's thinking about you?" A voice in the back of Giorno's head says.

"Impossible," Giorno answers back internally.

Later that evening, after they had played in the woods, Mista brought Giorno home.

"Hey, do you want to spend the night? We could have a movie marathon."

"Oh, I was already planning on it," Mista said, opening the door. He walked into the kitchen where he had put that bag down originally and took out four things: two bottles of wine and two boxes of cookies.

"Let's get this fucking party started."

If someone had told Mista three years ago that he'd be a worldwide superstar, he would have asked them what drugs they had done that day. If someone had told him three years ago that he'd be married to the man of his dreams, or that he'd have his newest album pre-ordered by 65 million people, he would have put them in a mental facility. But here he is, waking up next to the love of his life each day, preparing to release a new album to his plethora of international fans.

Abbacchio and Bruno's relationship gets better each day, as does Narancia and Fugo's. In fact, Narancia's relationship is moving faster than Abbacchio's, but Abbacchio likes things to be a little slower.

"Hey Nara," Abbacchio said, walking into Narancia's office.

"What's up, ugly?"

"I need you to sign this, dumbass," Abbacchio feigned a mean-spirited snarl, handing Narancia a clipboard.

"Why can't you just forge my signature?"

"Because you're stupid, and you can't fake stupid."

Abbacchio whipped around as he heard Bruno's bubbly laugh coming from the door.

"Hey, Leone, can I have you for a second?"

"Yeah," he said, smiling and stepping outside the office door.

"I'm taking you out tonight. When you get off, go home, get dressed up, and be ready at 6."

"I-"

"Nope, no objections," Bruno said softly, placing his hand on Abbacchio's cheek and grinning.

"O-Okay," Abbacchio muttered nervously, the hand on his cheek spawning butterflies in his stomach. His heart fluttered as Bruno leaned down to kiss him quickly before going back to his job. He stood there, smiling and blushing as if he had been embarrassed, for a few minutes. He walked back into Narancia's office, only to grab the clipboard and leave.

4:58 p.m.

It was so close to Abbacchio getting off work.

4:59 p.m.

All he could think about is getting home and getting dressed up.

5:00 p.m.

Abbacchio fell out of his chair in his haste to get home. He waved to everyone as he almost ran out of the building, Narancia trying to keep up.

"Wait up! You're riding home with me, stupid!"

"Hurry up, dick! I have to get home!"

"Jesus fuck," Narancia panted, placing his hands on his knees and bending over after finally reaching the car. Abbacchio was already inside and buckled up when Narancia raised up to open the door.

The car ride was short, as Abbacchio wouldn't let his best friend go under 50 mph. Once they reached the apartment buildings, Abbacchio jumped out of the car and hurdled toward their door with the key. In he went, bounding toward his closet, and yelling at Narancia to come help him.

"Wear purple. You look hot in purple, all homo."

"Okay, so a purple shirt and...?"

"Hold on, let me go get something," Narancia said, jumping up and racing to his room. He came back with black dress pants.

"I am not wearing that."

"Yes you are."

"No," Abbacchio said, shaking his head. “I don’t like the loose-fitting shit.”

"Yes, you'll look hot. Let's go, we don't have all day."

Abbacchio changed pants, tucking the front of his shirt into the pants. Narancia squawked, clapping his hands and nodding.

"Do I really look that good?"

"Let's just say that if I was straight, I'd go gay for you."

They were sitting on the bed talking when Bruno rang the doorbell at 6:00 p.m. sharp. Abbacchio shot up off the bed, and Narancia gave him a quick pep talk.

"Go get your man," he said, slapping the older’s back swiftly before pushing him into the living room and waving to him as he left the building.

"You look great, Leone," Bruno mused, fixing his white dress shirt and tight-fitting pants.

"So do you."

"What are we doing again?"

"You'll see," Bruno spoke, slyly smirking at the man in his passenger seat.

They pulled into the parking lot at the park. Bruno got out and opened Abbacchio's door for him. He pulled a picnic basket and blanket out of his trunk, smiling like an idiot.

"Come on, handsome," Bruno said, walking toward a clearing in the middle of a couple trees. He laid the blanket down, and sat the basket on top of it, beckoning Abbacchio over. He sat down quickly and cleared a spot for him. They ate, talking the whole time. They talked about everything from political scandals to types of trees. By the time they had finished talking, night had fallen. New York was still awake, its lights shining brighter than the sun. But where the two men sat, there was nothing to be seen but the moon and stars.

"The stars are really beautiful," Bruno muttered, looking over at Abbacchio. "But I've seen prettier."

"What could possibly be prettier than this?"

"You," Bruno said before he was pushed off the blanket.

"Oh my god, shut up," Abbacchio said, suddenly flustered. Bruno laughed, rolling back onto the blanket. He planted a kiss on the older man's cheek, grinning at him.

Later that evening, as Bruno was dropping Abbacchio off at his apartment, he said something that shook Abbacchio's world.

"Hey, Leone? You know I love you, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you love me?"

"With my whole existence."

"Do you think you might want to live with me?"

"Of course!"

"Will you?"

"Yes!" Abbacchio yelled as Bruno began to jump up and down in excitement. He grabbed Abbacchio, kissing him deeply. Narancia watched through the peephole before opening the door and scaring the couple.

"Really, Nara? You fucking asshole!"

Narancia only laughed, and Bruno frowned.

"Well, start packing your stuff, and I um... I love you," Bruno said shyly, walking back to his car.

Bruno was driving home from the record company building, a smile on his face as he thought about them having a life together one day. He laughed to himself, thinking about their future kid calling Abbacchio old. He knows it's too much to ask, they've only been in a relationship for three and a half years and they had both been determined to take it slowly. They don't even live together yet. Sure, they're always over at the other's house, but they don't live together.

However, Bruno pushed the worrisome thoughts aside, resuming his thoughts about a family life with Abbacchio. Watching him put makeup on their daughter, or hearing the sound of Abbacchio's laughter from the side when their son hits him over the head with a ball he tossed. Cooking for Abbacchio when he's sick, taking the kids to work, them sitting on a couch together, watching Giorno play toy dinosaurs with their son, and Mista playing dress up with their daughter. He thought about how they'd make good grandparents, how Abbacchio would be a good husband. He thought about how beautiful Abbacchio would look after waking up in his arms. He thought about how they'd stay up all night making tracks.

Bruno thought about how he would propose.

Now that was something he couldn't just smirk at. His whole face shifted to accommodate his smile. That big, bright smile that his Abbacchio loves so much. It was only a couple of thoughts, but those thoughts made Bruno the happiest person alive. His eyes were like crescent moons, his nose scrunched up, his teeth on full display.

It all happened so fast.

He only saw the rogue car fly down the road toward him, not the drunk driver passed out in the seat.

It all happened so fast.

Bruno swerved, trying to avoid the car, but it failed. He shut his eyes, cowering as the uncontrollable vehicle slammed into his at breakneck speed.

It all happened so fast.

Those soft, bright blue eyes never opened back up. His smile wasn't there anymore, but if you looked for it, you could find it, limp and hidden by blood and glass shards. His body was crushed. His last thought was of Abbacchio. His Abbacchio.

It all happened so fast. Too fast.

Abbacchio blinked. When he opened his eyes again, the world was grey. He shut them again, rubbing them in disbelief. He opened his eyes again, only to be met with a black and white world.

"Giorno? Narancia?"

Both of them hummed in response, never looking up to see the sudden fear in his eyes.

"I can't see color anymore, I don't know what happened... All I did was blink... It's gone, all of it."

"What?"

"What happened?"

"I don't know… I don’t know, I don’t know! Maybe I should call Bruno... I mean, I did start seeing colors after meeting him," Abbacchio reasoned, picking up his phone.

Ring...... Ring...... Ring...... No answer. Abbacchio tried again, getting the same result. Finally, he left a voicemail.

"Bruno, are you okay? Call me as soon as you get this, I need to talk to you. I-... I love you, Bruno. Please tell me you're okay."

Then he hung up. He stood up, pacing around the studio.

"He's probably asleep, don't stress yourself, Abbacchio," Giorno spoke softly, hugging his mentor. Abbacchio, though he thought that was strange of Giorno to do, hugged back. Narancia grabbed Abbacchio's hand, drawing on it to calm Abbacchio down. He needed affection.

"Why don't I drive you home, get you to sleep, and then Giorno and I will finish this project, okay?"

Abbacchio nodded, too tired and distraught to argue. Giorno helped him out of the building, and Narancia ran to start the car.

The two men had just finished getting Abbacchio to sleep when Giorno felt his phone ring in his pocket.

"Hold on, Narancia, I need to take this," he said, slipping out of the room and onto the balcony.

"Guido? Are you okay?"

"N-No," his voice cracked, he sounded heartbroken. "Gio..."

"What happened, baby? Do I need to come get you?"

"N-No, it's not me... Bruno, he-," Mista stopped abruptly, sobs racking through his body. Giorno felt his heart drop into his stomach, every strand of hair on his body standing straight up.

"Bruno? Bruno what?"

"C-Car accident- I- He- It-," Mista tried to speak, but it wouldn't come out.

"He was in a car accident? Is he okay?"

"No," Mista finally got out, breaking down with a near blood-curdling wail. He was close to screaming, the urge to break everything he owned just to feel something other than his heart being ripped to shreds. His father figure was gone. One of his best friends is dead.

"Is he hurt?"

"He's dead, G-Giorno, he's dead and I can't-."

"Oh my god.... Guido... I'm so sorry, I-," Giorno, as strong as he is, teared up. His voice began cracking and his breathing became shallow.

"Giorno, don't cry..."

"But I-... He just-," Giorno couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, and hung up with Mista after a hurried goodbye and frantic ‘I love you’s. He ran back inside, salty tears staining his beautiful tan skin, breathing rapid, teetering on hyperventilation.

"Narancia," Giorno called, his voice wavering.

"Giorno?"

"Bruno just- He- Car accident- Guido- They said he- Oh my fucking god-”

"What? Slow down," Narancia interrupted him, fear slowly seeping into his veins.

"Bruno was in a w-wreck... He didn't make it," Giorno muttered, losing his grip on his emotions. Narancia pulled him into a tight embrace.

"I- Abba... How are we going to tell him? We-," Narancia stopped, briny, almost painful tears threatening to fall from his usually happy eyes. "We can't tell him right now. L-Let's wait for tomorrow."

Giorno agreed with a solemn nod, weeping into Narancia’s shoulder.

"Abbacchio, Bruno passed away last night in a car accident."

It sounded like he was underwater, like he had suddenly lost his hearing. All he could hear was the rush of his own blood to his head and back down to the rest of his body. Abbacchio never knew that a simple sentence could hurt him so badly, that it could destroy him. His face became a slide for salty tears, his eyes bloodshot. His hands were raw from hitting the wall in anger. He was furious with himself for not getting to say goodbye. Yes, he did say, "I love you," but he wanted Bruno to know how he truly felt so terribly bad. And now, he couldn't let him know.

Never could he move in with him. Never could they get married. Never could they raise children. Never could they spend their lives together.

"the night after you left i woke up so broken the only place to put the pieces were the bags under my eyes" - rupi kaur, "milk and honey"

Abbacchio never experiences color again. How could he? All the color in his world left when Bruno did. All the color died when the love of his life did. He spends every waking hour staring at the spot on his bed where Bruno would lay, wishing it weren't empty. He spends every hour of the day having to tell himself over and over that he can't message or call Bruno. He spends every hour of the day convincing himself it isn't just a bad dream that he'll soon wake up from.

Abbacchio constantly reads over their messages, constantly listens to voicemails Bruno had left him. Abbacchio constantly watches videos, constantly stares at photos. Abbacchio constantly sleeps so he doesn’t have to be awake to feel the pain. Abbacchio constantly misses meals because he feels that if he eats, it’ll be easier for him to stay alive. Abbacchio constantly rain-checks on his friends' plans because they don’t deserve to see him like this. Abbacchio constantly denies that Bruno is dead.

"No, he isn't really, maybe he's just going off the map for a while. Yeah, that's it, he's not dead, just hidden. He'll come back soon," Abbacchio repeats in his head, over and over, one million times a day. Abbacchio knows Bruno is gone, but he doesn't want to believe it. He doesn't want to face the fact that he'll never see that beautiful smile again. He doesn't want to believe that he'll never hear, "I love you," from Bruno again. Abbacchio doesn't want to believe the nevers. He isn't okay, and never will be.

He tells his therapist that he's getting better each day, but he deteriorates every time that comes out of his mouth. He puts on a brave face for Mista, but breaks down between meetings. He tells Giorno he's fine, but can only think about how much he's hurting. He lets Narancia feed him, but throws it all back up and refills his stomach with liquor. He promised Bruno he'd stay safe, but here he stands, a bottle of pills in his right hand and a bottle of high-proof liquor in his left.

It was nothing his friends did. They loved him, they took care of him even though they were hurting just as badly. They tried to help him in any way they could. Abbacchio was just too far gone to fix, and his friends were far too late to help.

The top of the pill bottle clatters against the floor, and Abbacchio stares into the opening, met with a hundred little white pills, all staring back at him. He carefully opens the bottle of alcohol, not wanting to waste a drop. He had to do this. He needed to do this.

Within seconds, the whole bottle of pills is down his throat, a hefty swig of the 192-proof liquor on its tail.

Within seconds, the lethal concoction was coursing through Abbacchio's veins.

Within seconds, Abbacchio was taking another drink of the booze in his hand.

First, he was only dizzy. Next, sleepy and dizzy. Then short of breath. Abbacchio couldn't breathe. He couldn't stop himself from falling to the floor. He tried breathing, but received little air from the attempt. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest, delivering the man-made venom to his body. He could feel his organs shut down one by one. He drew the biggest breath he could, only to say three words.

"I'm coming, Bruno."

His eyes grew heavy as he felt his heart rate slow dramatically, almost coming to a complete stop. He became numb as his whole body stopped functioning, his heart beating for the last time, sending its last pump of tainted blood through his veins.

He'll finally see color again after all this time. He’ll never have to be without the love of his life again.

Dear Nara, I'm so sorry I had to do this. I really didn't want it to come to this, but I was struggling through each day. I really love you, you were such a great friend and I'm glad I got to share my life with you. I want you and Panna to have half of my possessions, and Giorno and Guido to have the other half. Please use my savings for your future kids and Giorno's future kids. I want Giorno to have my studio and inherit my half of the company with Guido. I love you, and I’m so sorry. - Leone Abbacchio

Dear Giorno, You were like a son to me, and I'm so sorry for this. I already told Narancia this, but I want you and Guido to get half of my savings for your future kids, and half of my possessions. I want you to take my place at NG Records, and my studio is in your name. You and Guido are getting my half of the company. Please take care of yourself. I love you. I’m so proud of you and I’m so sorry. - Leone Abbacchio

Dear Guido, Please take care of Giorno for me. I'm giving you both my share of the company, half of my possessions, and half of my savings for you to use on your future kids. I'm so glad I got to watch you become a worldwide superstar, and I'm glad that I'll get to watch you grow even more. You were one of the best decisions I ever made. Remember to take care of yourself. I love you, and I’m so sorry. - Leone Abbacchio.

And finally, through a bittersweet chain of events, Abbacchio was reunited with his true love forever. His soulmate. His Bruno.

#bruabba #bruno x abbacchio #jjba #jjba fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #extreme angst #tw sui #tw depression #tw character death

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