Wild Horses

The guys bully Mista

A/n we just spent four chapters with Joseph Joestar 🥵 and the seamstress and the fisherman's son have FINALLY kissed!

I realized I haven't posted in a month 😅It's kinda bc I'm moving to a different state this weekend for grad school! I've been busy packing and stressing and dealing with utility companies.  And my friends want to hang out all the time because I'm moving. But this time next week I'll be all alone in a new place 👉🏼👈🏼 so hopefully this story starts moving along!

"Are you excited to be in your hometown?" Narancia asked as their little motorboat made its way through the sea towards Venezia. The water was eerily calm compared to the choppy conditions they faced the night before. In fact, it almost seemed like the water was actually pushing the boat faster towards the city's shore.

"No," Lira replied with a shrug. "It's not like I remember it much." Her thoughts were occupied with the old man's warning about Bucciarati. Could he be in danger? She eyed him as he sat in the back and steered the boat, his hair once again being blown by the breeze. Bucciarati stretched a leg out towards her and rested his Gucci shoe against her bare calf. His attempt at stealthy affection didn't go unnoticed in the cramped space of the boat, however. Mista's eyes bulged; he looked from the shoe to Lira's face and caught her blushing. Mista coughed painfully as he accidentally inhaled his saliva. He elbowed Fugo next to him and nodded towards the quiet scene Bucciarati was making. A giant smirk formed on Fugo's face. Yes, Lira, get it! he thought.

"What?" the coy blonde teen mouthed silently, fighting the urge to stick his tongue out at Mista. Mista immediately felt like a clown; Fugo was right, as always. What? as in, What about it? In order to hide his embarrassment and other feelings, Mista formed an O with one hand and slowly slid his index finger from the other hand into it. The universal sign for sex. Mista said "Ehhhhhh?" and wiggled his eyebrows up and down playfully to keep up his macho charade.

Fugo scoffed and furrowed his eyebrows at Mista's crass gesture. The next instant, Fugo hit Mista's face with an open palm and pushed his head away, hard. "Fuckin dumbass," Fugo huffed.

Abbacchio, who watched the whole thing unfold, gave an approving nod.

Mista regained his balance, barely stopping himself from falling overboard. He threw hands towards Fugo and began pushing him. "Dick!"

"That's enough!" Bucciarati shouted over the motor. "Behave yourselves for two fucking minutes before I come over there and make you!"

"Yes, Bucciarati," two squabbling teens said in unison before apologizing to each other.

Within 10 minutes, they pulled into a small fishing dock in Venezia. Bucciarati tied the boat up, and the gang piled out onto the floating wooden deck. Bucciarati walked in front as he gave Narancia orders to go get a map of the city and bring it back to them.
"You got it, Bucciarati," Narancia said before he took off ahead of everyone else. Lira watched him run to a tourist stall in the distance and wondered what scheme Narancia would employ to get the map without paying.

Suddenly, Mista let out a high-pitched scream from the back of the group before a loud splash was heard. Everyone instinctively turned around to find that Mista had fallen into the water. His head broke through the surface as he gasped for air. "WHO PUSHED ME?" he demanded before scrambling back onto the deck. He stood up and pushed his wet hair back from his face and realized that the hat Lira had made him was floating in the water. "Ah fuck," he cursed loudly and jumped back into the water to retrieve it. He climbed onto the floating deck again, this time clutching his hat with a death grip. He jammed the soaked hat back onto his dripping wet curls. His drenched clothes stuck to his body, showing his physique even more clearly. Water began pooling on the wood planks beneath him.