#not sure how well the title correlates but it kept repeating in my head over and over again as i was making it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dongiovannaswife · 4 years

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Help you out | GioLena.

CW: mentions and talk about child abuse/abandonment. Pregnancy.

*Translation: amor; love.

As the warm wind of Naples blows, messing with the woman’s hair and bringing some of the locks tucked behind her ear to her eyes covered with sunglasses her hand shoots upwards, trying to keep the locks in place. Her husband, sitting across from her, chuckles as he gets a hair tie from his pocket, offering it to her with a small smile and then, as she accepts it, he stares for a moment as her eyes drift downwards, concentrated as she gets the mane of curls into a half up half down bun.

“Sorry, amor*—” she says then, eyes glancing at him momentarily and then drifting down, “You were saying?”

Giorno hums, taking his own sunglasses off and tucking one of the temples inside the collar of his shirt —it was rare to see him dressed so casual given that they were in a public space, but as he had said, he wanted a normal sunday for once in a while,— one could think he would get mad upon the need to repeat his words, but in fact, he haven’t really said it when the wind interrupted: and getting mad about it would be too immature. “Should I shave, Helena?”

Securing the bun at the top of her head and pulling some of the loosened strands out of the bun to relax her scalp, she looked at him with a certain sense of confusion, tilting her head to the side: as her hands went down, she unconsciously rested them on her belly. “I mean,” she started after a brief moment of silence, “you've had your beard for like… two months? You must be tired at this point. I know you’ve been keeping it trimmed, and it’s probably a lot of work. Truth is,” and she reached her hand out above the table, unable to move more as the fear to hurt the twins casted in the back of her mind; Giorno reaching his hand out to her, entwining his fingers with hers and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand in circles. “Truth is that I love it, it makes you look like a gladiator. Yeah, sexy. In my opinion, I’d love it if you keep it for more time, but it’s your decision. If it makes you feel uncomfortable, then do it, babe.”

Giorno hummed. “I guess I’ll do it. Just a question, cara.” The lopsided smile in his face making her grin in exchange, expecting his next move. “If I do, would that make me look less like a gladiator?”

Shaking her head and laughing softly, she answered. “You could be wearing a fake metal arm and you’d look like a futuristic gladiator, anything you wear makes you look good, you look like a gladiator... Naturally.”

Giorno groaned, faking annoyance. “You didn’t just mention Barnes in this conversation.”

“Technically, it’s not Bucky-baby, it’s Keanu Reeves in Cyberpunk 2077.”

Shaking his head, Giorno laughed quietly. “Alright then, but we both know you were talking about Barnes.”

“Listen,” interrupted her, raising her cup of tea, “our boys know something because they just kicked —they want papà to dress like Barnes and surprise mamma.”

“Hm?” he said, standing and moving his chair to sit at her side, hand gently caressing the baby bump. “Do they?” then, his lips drifted closer to her ear, taking in the scent of her perfume and shampoo. “Or is this your wish, Helena?”

Tilting her head and kissing his cheek, she replied. “I know that I want to buy them more clothes.”

“More?” he asked, humming afterwards. “We could go to one of the fashion houses from around, if you want to.”

Before she could answer, Fugo’s voice startled them. “Boss.”

Giorno looked at him and she could see the change in his eyes before the title —how the teal pools darkened with a light that called only for business.— “Yes, Fugo?”

Fugo raised his hand, choosing to stay in silence as he took a chair from one of the tables close to theirs, setting it down and sitting before the couple. As he did, Fugo’s face changed too; lately, the relationship between the two males have been developing into one more of brothers. While it was obvious that they didn’t look alike, they surely thought of each other as siblings.

“There’s a woman ahead from us that’s been staring at you for more than ten minutes; she seems astonished.”

Looking over through the corner of his eye, Giorno could see her. Effectively, he had seen this woman, but didn’t think too much about it; why would he? She looked like a civilian. Besides, people often recognized him, and sometimes, they were looking for the moment to approach him; some with good intentions, some others not so much. However, he had learned to differentiate them. And this woman in particular seemed to be wondering if she should get closer.

But he couldn’t mask the surprise when he recognized that face when she got up, walking to them.

Fugo stood, choosing to stand besides Helena.

As the woman got closer, Helena recognized her and inevitably tensed but remained sitting, ready to shoot her hand upwards and ask Fugo for help to stand up.

The woman was Giorno’s mother. “My son.” Sadashi Shiobana said, a false tone of wonder, backed up only by her interest in other things. “Look at you, you’ve grown so much. Did I ever tell you how much you look like your father?”

Giorno’s jaw tensed as he remained sitting, relaxing his body in order to seem unaffected, but ready to stand if she got closer —or if she ever dared to touch his wife or him.

“I perfectly recall telling you to go away. Didn’t I?” he answered, not longer taking more of it and standing. Instantly towering before the woman, who stopped right after seeing his eyes; a storm inside them. A hurricane threatening to strike. “Yes, I told you back there to go away. And if I must—”

“Oh, come on.” she interrupted and Helena tensed again when she directed her eyes towards her. “You are gonna be a father —and I know that bump is way too big to be one baby! Are they twins? triplets, maybe?”

Giorno didn’t answer and instead kept talking as if those words have not been pronounced yet. “Didn't you hear me? Or are you stubbornly trying to scream into the void?”

“Haruno, I am your mother!” Sadashi yelled, another fake expression of hurt flashing in her face. “I have the right to be in your life and get to know my grandchildren!”

Giorno opened his mouth to talk, the need to roll his eyes strong. Before he could, however, Lena raised her hand, asking silently form him to wait. When Giorno looked at her and she glanced at him with those eyes so calm, he knew it was a matter of time for her to get Sadashi to back down.

“Biologically talking you might be his mother, signora. But you are using a biological connection to get something else. In the first place—”

“Listen,—” Sadashi started and Helena cut her off, raising her voice subtly for a moment.

“Do not interrupt me when I talk. It’s disrespectful. Now, as I was saying; in the first instance, you never took care of him, you don’t know he doesn't go by Haruno anymore, better yet, you are trying to use that name to induce fear; I’m sure you never took the time to attend to his needs nor his schoolar events. Now that you know he has financial resources and luxuries you can’t have, you come back, intending to use a biological connection with no correlation to what it is supposed to carry with. And before you interrupt me again and say I’m disrespecting you, let me tell you that I do respect you just because you brought him to this world —but you have nothing else. You don’t deserve to call yourself a mother.”

Fugo’s brow arched upwards as he tilted his head to the side, mentally laughing at the woman’s face.

“You let your wife defend you?” she asked, glancing at Giorno.

Crossing his arms and glaring at her, he answered. “Does that hurt your ideals of the perfect couple?”

Sadashi shook her head, muttering curses under her breath and disappearing from there.

When the woman turned to the left in the corner of the street, Helena finally relaxed, feeling the kicks of the twins, trying to sooth them with her hand. Her husband’s hand joined hers as well as his presence, warm and ghosting the smell of his cologne. As he leaned he asked. “Are you okay?” She nodded, giving him a small smile. Knowing that expression, Giorno looked up at Fugo, who bursted into laughter as soon as Mista came into view from the point where he was vigilating.

“What?” she asked as Giorno helped her stand.

“You beated her without even standing!” screamed the gunslinger between giggles, covering his mouth with his hand and leaning with his hand on his knee. At his side, Fugo laughed quietly with a hand over his mouth, adding as he uncovered it. “He’s right.”

Giorno hummed, pursed lips and eyes clouded with rage. As she looked at him and realized this, her hand shot upwards to trace over his jaw, instantly helping him relax.

“Mista,” said Helena, “could you drive us home?”

The gunslinger nodded and Giorno shook his head softly, “I’m okay, Helena. We can still go around the city.”

#GioLena #i didn't proofread this #so sorry if there are mistakes ;w;

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