Your Words Are Honey [Mista x Giorno] 🔫🐞

Honeycomb

"How are they?"

The light that came from the other side of the room wasn't enough to notice his smile, but Pomodoro still felt it. He turned around with a cup of tea warming his hands, slurping from it occasionally. It was a mix of leftover tea and coffee, the perfect combination to stay awake. Close to him, Stracciatella's posture called for his attention. He was extremely relaxed, no tense muscles. As soon as he showed his face through the light that the pieces of glass were exuding, Pomodoro could see his restfulness in full glow. His smile was fresh and new, therefore he assumed sleeping did him well. However, he didn't know how to answer his question correctly. Their capo could say that it was bad, considering the time the two were taking to return back to the Boss. But they could also be doing well, considering the situation. (The situation involved the dramatic standards, the tension, and the buildup that they clearly felt from them. With that in mind, the two of them held pretty well.). So he narrowed his eyes, turning towards the enhanced pieces of glass that Osso Bucca very neatly arranged for them to keep an eye on the house. He elevated his shoulders, moved back with the mug in his hands so Stracciatella could get closer. He did.

"What do you think?" A wide smile marched across the blonde's face. He had something in mind but Pomodoro knew he wasn't going to share unless he was asked.

"Well?"

The blonde straightened his back, leaning to the side, hands near Pomodoro's thick tights. He refused the blond's touch though, earning a pout from him. "Well, I guess they're good. I just find myself missing them. The heir has such a bubbly personality. I want to know him better." Pomodoro said nothing as he drank his tea. He knew Stracciatella well enough to know what that meant. They had been working together for years, and being part of the same team forced him to analyze and understand Stracciatella as much as he could. He had no bad intentions, of course (he never had) but saying that he wanted to infect the heir wasn't a good idea. It was a risky thing to say it in one of their headquarters. Thank god there were only three of them assigned to this task. Otherwise, their capo would've sent him away and who knows if he would see him again.

"Don't do anything to the heir, come on..."

"It would be in good fun. We could get along."

"Easy for you to say..." Pomodoro would never forget the day Stracciatella infected him, hitting his heart with his stand and controlled him as he knew when, why and how everything happened. It was a showcase of power, and he didn't latch to him but he knew that a weak-willed person could even get his thoughts twisted by him. The man was terrifying, but that's why he was there, working alongside him for the most powerful mafia on earth.

"Ohh, they're on the stairs." Playful, the blonde hummed, eyes drifting across the wall of glass to see them but Pomodoro pulled his arm to get him away from the images.

"Hey, don't stare too much. I need eyes on the perimeter."

Stracciatella groaned and lifted his eyepatch it to show a disheveled eye holding a liquified pupil that shifted between green, blue, then brown. It was disgusting. He understood why Stracciatella didn't like to show it at all. Strangely enough, he was still smiling. Maybe because he was in a good mood, but he still had an aura of detachment in him. Probably the people he infected helped him get some of that energy into his own body. Pomodoro stared at the shapes the eye made when it moved. He saw everything, even shapes that he didn't know existed. There was no sign of anything human in there.

"I have my eye on it already, babe". Pomodoro visibly cringed at his words.

"Please don't call me that."

"Ooh..." Stracciatella's voice was too eager to be ignored, now staring again at the piece of glass. He saw the two of them were already in the Heir's Room, the angle of his viewing closed off from that specific point. They had to have some privacy after all. "Well, it's good to see they've gotten to know each other." the other man stared at Stracciatella from behind the locks of his long black hair. He was asked to step back and he had to oblige if he knew what was good for him.