Asphodel

Chapter 6

     Mista was gone when Giorno awoke, the only thing he left was a note sitting on the space beside him saying he'd gone to pick a few things up and would be back shortly. Yawning, Giorno pushed himself up into a sitting position as he looked around the room. It was a cozy room, giving off a homely feel in the way it was decorated. He could see why Mista had chosen the place, it seemed like a place he'd like.

     He stood, making his way to the one window in the room and opening the curtains. Light streamed in- he had slept in late. Turning away from the outside view, he made his way downstairs to see if he could find something to drink, wondering how long Mista had been gone for.

     It was only around five minutes later when the door banged open, causing Giorno to whirl around. His expression relaxed when he saw it was only Mista.

     "What did you need to pick up?" He asked the gangster, who ignored the question as he marched over to the table, slamming a piece of paper onto the wood surface.

     "I need to go." He said flatly, rummaging through his bags laying in the corner and pulling out a spare magazine for his pistol, which Giorno could see was full of bullets.

     A bit shaken at his unusual behavior, the florist went to examine the letter. "Mista," he asked, turning over the paper envelope in his hand. "What's this stamp mean?"

      "That's Passione's seal." Mista responded, stuffing the magazine into a smaller bag which he looped around his shoulder. "I have something I need to settle."

     Giorno could feel a sinking feeling in his chest as he watched his partner get ready for whatever he was preparing to do. "What's going on."

     "I told you, I need to take care of something."

    "If this has something to do with the plan-" he was cut off when Mista whirled around, a panicked fire in his eyes that Giorno had never seen before. "I don't care about the damn plan." he said, voice filled with something that sounded scarily close to rage.

     "But your team members, if something happens to you they'd never be able to forgive themselves. They care about you, Mista, can you not see that?" he reached out to take the other boy's hand, attempting to pull him back. "I care about you."

     "Nobody asked you too." Mista growled, jerking his hand back before his skin touched Giorno's.

     The florist stood absolutely still, hurt showing plainly in his eyes. He looked at Mista, who staired back, unphased. "You shouldn't have said that." He whispered.

     Mista let out a humorless laugh. "Don't try to hold me back like usual, Giorno. You don't have a clue what's going on."

     That was it. Furious,Giorno shoved Mista to the door, swinging it open and shoving him out into the empty street. Banging it shut, he sunk against it, waiting for the knocking to begin.

     Only silence.

     Putting his face in his hands Giorno began to shake, the sporadic movement replacing what to what a normal person would have been tears. Trying to grip his mind around what had just happened, the memory of something Bruni had told him flashed through his mind. "You're gonna need to watch out, and don't be too hard on him when he messes up." Was this him messing up? What had caused that flash of anger.

     The letter. Giorno jumped to his feet, hurring over to the envelope, the black ink stamp showing clearly on the back. It was already open. Slipping the piece of paper out of its holder, he unfolded it, heart dropping when he saw what it read.