Still cradling a porcelain teacup and saucer in his hands, Giorno witnessed as Abbacchio stride over from the door from where he was previously calling out to Narancia, to another miscellaneous cupboard, pulling out a large heap of crumbled plastic bags. Each of the plastic carriers having various colours and sizes to them.
After witnessing that performance, Giorno was finally able to add the miniscule cup and saucer to the overwhelming pile cramping up the draining board.
Finally getting the heap of flimsy plastic back into the cupboard, Leone sauntered over to the refrigerator to retrieve a magnetic shopping list places haphazardly onto the surface of the cold metal. The little papers resembled a decorative envelope, a minimalist floral design coated the edges, with matching symmetrical lines filling the empty space.
The cheap plastic pen strapped to the mini papers by a measly piece of elastic danced in Abbacchio's hands as he wrote several things down in the thin lines;
Eggs
Milk-
He pondered for a second, what did they also need?
His eyebrows knotted into a look of confused consideratio-
Oh. They needed fruit.
'Fruit' was scribbled down lazily onto the shopping list.
Then, the abrupt soft screech of paper ripping filled the section of the large kitchen.
With the sides all wiped down, Fugo mindlessly walked over to the sink and began to rinse his sponge, basically massaging the neon cube of textured plastic, the seemingly invisible chemicals going in the sink with little bubbles accumulating near the drain, drenching all of the cutlery, teacups and plates.
With each person doing their own thing, Giorno just stood there silently observing, almost hovering to see what both Leone and Fugo were doing.
He often felt like this when he had nothing to do with others around, like he was just a pair of curious eyes or even a ghost with a deep backstory that nobody knows about, akin to various spirits from dated yellowed pages stored upon an aged bookshelf, viewing the calmly mundane lives of others, and he preferred it that way sometimes.
YOU ARE READING
Stars And Tiaras
Fanfiction°□° As the Devil had been cast to an infinite Hell, the messenger of the arrow remembered... The Child Of God Is A God Himself... °∆°
