𝕭𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖊 𝕮𝖔𝖓 𝕷𝖆 𝕷𝖚𝖓𝖆 | Prosciutto X Fem!Reader

☁Epilogue☁

Time and time again, the moon would disappear from the sky, and no one would notice. 

If he owned a silk scarf, he could put it around his neck and take it away with him. If he owned a flower, he would pluck that flower and take it away with him. But Prosciutto cannot pluck the stars and moon from the heavens.

After rainy days, when the worm sodden earth melts together into mud cakes, Prosciutto would often times struggle to find his daughter, who more often then not, would be up on the roof. And, when he would find her, it would always be with a comb in hand, so that he could brush out her starry locks as they chatted. 

"Those things up there...?" Her voice was light and airy, innocent in the sense that no emotion would seem to ever influence her words.

"Dearest, I cannot see what you're looking at." It was true. His face was swarmed with waves of gold, and his eyes were limited to what light was already decorating her hair.

"That one," For the life of him, he still could not see what she was talking about. "Tell me a story about that one?"

Prosciutto decides to indulge her anyways. "Oh, that one." He says, with a false familiarity. "Your mother told me all about the man that lives on that star."

"What is he like?"

"Well, the one you're looking at isn't even a star. The man who lives there is a lamp lighter, who lights the lamp on a little moon every night so that there is one more star in the sky."

"That's odd."

"Now, Peonia, it may well be that this man is in loops, but he is not as strange as the tippler, the bear, the lumberjack and the tiger I've told you about. Those ones are strange. When he lights up his little moon, it's as if he brought another star alight."

"That can't be all that he does. Is it?"

"It is. He lights it, blows it out, and lights it again, over and over."

"Isn't that just boring?"

"It can be, for some. But he gets to watch his own sunrise, and sunset, whenever he pleases, for his days go by as quick as minutes."

Peonia opened her mouth to speak again, as her questions never seemed to cease its forthcoming, but instead closed it once more. Instead, she turns her head over to the moon off yonder, and pouts.

"Your mother will visit tomorrow," Prosciutto tells her, aware of her next question. "Have patience."

Oh, but how she wishes she hadn't inherited her fathers patience! She understands now how he felt when (Y/n) went missing, sitting idle and jittery with no hope to speed up the process. The moon is barely a crescent now, a sliver of what it normally would be, and still her mother refused to come till it was the new moon!

Prosciutto manages to weave her hair into a half-decent braid and sighs, leaning back against the roof with his face towards the clear skies. The glimmering, unending sea of stars winked at him, bidding hello as they often did.

He can't wait for (Y/n) to come down again, to entertain her little comet, as she affectionately calls Peonia, with stories about all she knows and has seen.

The last one-- he remembers this being the last one at least-- he'd heard about was the sun itself. Peonia would ask about each little star in the sky, and who lived on them, so naturally she was bound to ask about her own star someday.

(Y/n) said that the sun was a very interesting person, as interesting as self-centered people come, and that they recently got a friend. They didn't like to share, or talk about him, but he was there all the same, and the sun was happy, which is why the summers got warmer and the days became brighter.

"Dad," Peonia calls, apparently again, as her tone became annoyed. "did you hear me?"

"No, sorry; What is it?"

"I asked if you could tell me about how you and mom met."

It's impossible to stop himself from smiling as he props himself onto his elbows, the girl staring into him with her wondering glittering eyes. They're just the same as her mothers, little golden things that put idle men to sleep-- and he loved it.

"You want me to tell you again?" He laughs through his words, amused.

"Yeah, I think it's neat!"

"Ah, I suppose I could tell you once more... It happened on the darkest of nights, when this girl in nothing but pajamas comes running up to me..."