Gentle Touches (Bruno Buccellati x Reader)

I Awake

A/N: I LIVE AGAIN. Sorry that took longer than part 5 being confirmed but I've had a lot on my plate lately. Exams and such, but hey I just HAD to get this out on JoJo Friday (and Araki's bday) because I would be kicking myself if I didn't. Sorry it's so short too, but Bruno being perfect and breaking my heart again today just made me write more. Honestly not ready for the next couple of Fridays, gonna kill me even though I read the manga

Enjoy💜💜💜💜

You let out a quiet groan as you awoke, furrowing your brow and stretching your arms out in front of you. The bed was cold, and there was no familiar weight of Bruno to be found. He was gone. You opened your eyes and sat up, the sheet covering you falling to bunch at your hips. Frowning, you picked up the edge of it and brought it to your chest, knowing that you hadn't covered yourself when you fell asleep. Where is he? You thought to yourself as you looked around the empty room.

Your discarded clothes were cleaned up off of the floor, and your dress hung on the closet door. It should have had wrinkles in the delicate fabric after sitting forgotten for so long, yet there were none to be seen. Your shoes sat below it, heels touching primly. There was also no sign of Bruno's clothes either; the entire room had been cleaned up while you slept.

As your body became accustomed to being awake, the aroma of coffee filled your nose and a soft smile crossed your lips. He must be outside the room, milling around the rest of his house. There wasn't always time in the mornings for an espresso in your line of work, so the chance to have one was something you'd never pass up. You flung the sheet off and planted your feet onto the soft carpet of Bruno's bedroom floor. You took a moment to appreciate the warmth of Bruno's bed before standing up and shivering at the slightly cold air on your exposed body. The door to the rest of the house was open, with a silken white robe trimmed with black hanging on the edge. As you walked over to it, you saw that there was a small slip of paper folded into the sash.

You opened it to see a small heart drawn in pen, and your own beat wildly in your chest at his thoughtfulness. What in the world did I ever do to deserve him? You took the robe from its perch and brought it hesitantly to your nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him. You smiled and put it on, not exactly wanting to walk around Bruno's house naked. Now that would be a surprising sight for him to see in the morning. Once the sash was tied securely, you crept out from the bedroom and followed the smell of coffee.

He was in the kitchen, bustling around quietly in a loose pair of slacks and an unbuttoned shirt. You leant on the doorframe and watched as he prepared two espressos. He was as graceful as always; even without knowing he was being watched he had an air about him that radiated ease. Bruno placed them down on the counter and turned one by the handle just slightly, as if trying to position it perfectly. You tilted your head and stifled a small laugh in amusement. The slight movement made his gaze shoot over to where you stood, and a smile broke out on his face as he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He planted a soft kiss upon your forehead.

"Buongiorno, amore." You placed a hand on his chest under the soft shirt. His heart beat wildly beneath your touch. "Espresso?" He inclined his head to the counter, where the two fresh cups rested.

"I'd love to," you replied, walking over with him and taking the cup he handed to you. The two of you sat down across from each other at the kitchen table and sipped your coffee, an easy silence hovering over you. There didn't need to be words between you, just the comfort of sharing a space with each other. The morning was peaceful, with no rush to be had. You had Thursdays off at your day job, and Bruno had mentioned to the Don that he would be taking the morning off.

It took you nearly half an hour to convince Bruno to take those few hours off; but as you gazed at him while he drank, the dark curls of his hair framing his face wildly, you knew that it had been worth it a hundred times over. It wasn't often you could see his hair in any state less than the perfect style he wore, and you relished the opportunity to see it this way. He looked at peace, more relaxed than you had ever seen him in all the years you'd known each other. His eyes were soft and heavy-lidded, full lips curled with a gentle smile. You absentmindedly sipped your coffee and stared at him, comfortably quiet. He's so handsome.

"Something on your mind?" He asked, holding his cup up to his lips with a small smirk. You started at the sudden question, eyes flitting away due to sudden nerves. He had caught you staring. But then you looked back at him and tilted your head, matching his smirk with one of your own.

"Just you, amore." His eyes widened at your eased truthfulness; it was surprising that you didn't even bother to hide what you were doing. Why would you? There was nothing to hide from him anymore. "Thinking about how handsome you are." A small blush coated his cheeks as he got a little flustered at your forwardness. Your hand edged its way across the table and grasped his. "And of how skilled your hands are." You fluttered your lashes and Bruno's eyebrows shot up at your blatant flirting; he let a small laugh escape his throat.

"Cara mia, you've never been this forward," he murmured, leaning a bit over the table to gaze into your eyes. He glanced over to the clock behind your head for a moment, checking the time. "I still have a few hours before I have to speak with Don Giovanna," a smirk crossed his lips. He leant in even closer, pushing the chair behind him in order to nearly brush noses with you.

"I'm sure we can think of some way to pass the time."