Reunited: Bucciarati's POV

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Bucciarati was sitting at home, in his office. He glanced over at his phone, seeing notifications. They were from you.

He picked up his phone out of curiosity, opening up your text messages.

Y/n L/n

💬 Hello Bucciarati! How are you?
💬I'm at the cafe now!
💬Did you know they have a new dessert out today? It looks totally good, I might try it...
💬I ended up trying it, it tasted just as good as it looked.
-
💬Ahh, sorry I'm leaving the cafe now.
-
💬Sorry if I made you upset or anything as well. I hope to see you soon, just let me know whenever you're able to come by again.

He sighed.

There was a knock on the door, and someone entered.

"Hey, Bucciarati. I just came by to report my mission."

Bucciarati looked down to continue his paperwork. "Alright, thank you Mista."

Mista gave a questioning look. "Hey, it's Sunday today, isn't it? You used to go out around this time every weekend for an hour or two, but now you don't. Why is that?"

"Reasons." He replied, flatly.

Mista then gasped. "Were you meeting someone?! Was it a chick?! How come you never tell me these things!"

Bucciarati sighed, putting his pen down. "Yes, I was meeting with someone, and yes it was a women."

Mista's jaw dropped. He then put an arm around his buddy, interrogating him. "Dude! You've been holding out on me. Come on, tell me, is she pretty? What's her name? Can I meet her too? Oh, wait, are you two like a thing or something? If so, then does she have any other female friends I can meet? And wait, if you two are  a thing, why aren't you meeting up?"


Bucciarati snapped a little, "Mista, stop. We're not a thing. I stopped meeting with her because one day she was being followed. I fear it might be an enemy gang trying to hunt her for information, so I decided it would be best if we stopped being acquainted to one another."

Mista frowned. "Well, you did say yourself to keep our outside ties to the mafia limited for that very reason." He sighed. "So then, what was her reaction when you told her?"

Bucciarati gave a blank look to his friend, and Mista gave him an appalled look. "Wait, you didn't even tell her your reason to stop meeting? Did you even tell her anything at all?"

"No, I thought it'd be best to keep that all a secret, for her own safety."

Mista face palmed. "Come on man, you can't do that to her. Even I feel bad and I've never even met her."

Bucciarati sighed. "Maybe, you're right."

"Of course I am, you're talking to the number one dating expert right here!" He gave a flashy grin.

Bucciarati rolled his eyes, "but we're not dating."

"Not yet!" He teased.

Bucciarati shook his head.

"So, you still never answered the most important questions, what's her name?! What's she like? Is she pretty? OH! How did you meet? Don't avoid the questions this time!"

Bucciarati smiled, shaking his head.

"Her name is y/n. She bumped into me in an alley and made me spill my coffee all over myself."

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