Stars And Tiaras

3

Continuing his journey to the specific room, Giorno's legs pulled him to the door, practically feeling a magnetic force of fatigue. The tingle of the cold tiles beneath his feet being enough to force his legs to move.

With every step the golden ribbons of his hair bounced and coiled round his face like a flexible array of springs, the different lengths of curls and waves veiled across his shoulders.

A small sliver of light grazed beneath the cracks of the door, the light itself a honey yellow, as opposed to the coldly hued door.

Reaching forward Giorno's right hand came into contact with one of the two door handles. The metal freezing his otherwise warm body.

Despite this, Giorno's body pushed on, impelled by the thought of Bucciarati's cooking.

The sweet aroma of golden syrup and pancakes flooded Giorno's senses as he entered the kitchen.

What he saw could only be described as being in a surreal dream, one he hoped, wished and prayed for to come true many years ago;

Soft light shining through the windows as it cast a yellow-ey orange tinge throughout the whole room, looking like a kind memory from a cheesy TV romcom.

Sat on some of the chairs surrounding the oakwood dining table was his familia.

Abbacchio was sat on the opposite side of the room, facing the door, he was somewhat paying attention to the remaining table members conversation to observe and step in when he felt like it.

Dressed in simple attire, like he had too woken up like Giorno, only -what looked like- more headache inducing; A black t-shirt that was maybe just a few years old, some dark grey pyjama bottoms and a very obscure pair of slippers with the words '#1 PADRE' on each slipper, the circumstances of Abbacchio owning these being from Narancia during fathers day, being blessed with the title of 'padre' from his second favourite member of his family made him (inwardly) smile that day.

His hair framed his face, being in a simple ponytail that left a few threads of hair to dangle in front of his eyes. His signature 'hat' was still on too, not wanting to be caught dead without it.

His face was a different matter though, his eyes had a slight discolouration under them, silently letting everyone know that he had not slept well last night. The only product he could even bother putting on this morning was his famous periwinkle lipstick.

Leone's elbow was laying on the table, his face in his palm, staring out the window, having a war with his mind to stay awake.

An empty plate with a knife and a fork organised in front of him. A porciliain teacup still in its saucer a little closer than expected, looking like he had moved onto his drink after he had eaten. The teacup was decorated with gorgeous flowers and patterns in various complimentary colours. The drink -of course- being a strong espresso.

Grazing his eyes across the room slightly, Giorno's attention went to the next member of his family, Trish.

Trish was sat the closest to Leone, the exhausted man sitting at the head of the table, while she was on -what looked like from Giorno's perspective- the right side of the table.

Actively contributing to Abbacchio's forced subscription to their daily comedy podcast, she moved and expressed her emotions freely based on what she felt, not having shame in showing them even if they were negative.

She was dressed in a 90s Spice Girls t-shirt, the fabric its self white but the texts and the photo of the band were displayed on the front, showing an entire rainbows worth of colours. For her bottoms she wore a bright neon pink pair of shorts.