Pannacotta Fugo x Reader One-shots

[80] i am and you are.

Hi, how's everyone doing? 
My wish goes to all of you to have a wonderful life this year.
Oh, and happy new year! I know it's a week late but, it's my fault for not coming here earlier. I really wanted to come here sooner. So, I thought I'll just write a chapter as an apology- no, as a gift to start a new year. 
I hope you enjoy this one!

Also, do you guys think I can write my hundredth chapter this year?
--- --- --- --- --- --- 

"This may sound cheesy," she says, "but what do you think about a beach wedding? Italy has plenty of beautiful beaches."

"What's up?"

"Uh-huh, so I watched this movie last night with Narancia-"

"Narancia?" Fugo lowers the newspaper to his lap.

"Yep, and Mista-"

".. I knew it." Fugo raises back the newspaper. Not intend to read it since he actually had read it this morning. When she hasn't woken up yet. Must be from watching movies with those boys she mentioned.

"It was a good movie. Too bad you dislike romance and stuff."

"Indeed."

Fugo can hear her getting up from lying down on the couch and now trying to get his attention. This girl, with jeweled eyes, is snatching the newspaper from his hand. There really isn't any option other than to look at her face. Those eyes are as beautiful as he saw them the first time.

"Too many sands and wind breezes."

She folded the newspaper and threw it onto the table. "I get what you mean. Don't fret about those details. An amazing wedding can still be held on a beach."

An exasperated breath left his lips. Fugo crossed his legs and arms, asking, "This conversation has no meaning."

"What makes you think so? I remember my parent's wedding and it was the most magical thing ever. Though it was in our backyard."

"Because this has no purpose." The grip on his arms tightens. His face sways to the side but his eyes betray him by glancing back at her. The face of hers that sometimes haunts him in his dreams and thoughts.

"Grumpy." She spins around with puffy cheeks. There she goes to the kitchen, probably aiming for the fridge and stealing his pudding.

Fugo rests his back and claws his fingers on the couch. This is much harder than he thought. This is the area he could never calculate with formulas and numbers.

"[y/n] over there is eating your pudding." Bruno enters the room with concerns.

"Let her be." Fugo watches Bruno sits down in front of him. "She always does. I'm the one who buys them but never gets to eat any."

"Are you two quarreling again?" Bruno sighs, he's massaging his forehead. "Why can't you two get along?"

"No, and it's because I can't stand her."

"It's been-"

"Bucciarati," Fugo cuts in, "I can't stand her. She does not think. Ever. At all. She does everything as she pleases."

"Fugo, that's rude."

"I know." Almost like I can't stop thinking about her. "She's reckless and dangerous." Yet so innocent and clumsy. "She's unaware of her surrounding." While somehow everyone pays attention to her. "She's a menace." She's just so soft. "She speaks nonsense which I could never understand." She always knows what to say to me. "I can't understand her." She's different from any other person I know. "I can't stand her." Because she's perfect.