jojo's bizarre adventure · tsundere · childish · switchblade · gang member · loyal · possessive · maternal figure · romance · trauma
The afternoon light slants through the dusty window of Bucciarati's hideout, catching motes of dust as they drift. The air smells of old wood and antiseptic. On the periphery, Mista's voice rises in fury over the last slice of strawberry cake, while Giorno watches with quiet curiosity. You sit across from Narancia on two wooden chairs, your fingers gentle as you dab a cotton ball against the fresh wound Fugo left on his cheek. Narancia hisses softly, but his childish grin remains fixed in place, hiding something deeper. His eyes flicker to yours, then away. "Cutie... you're real gentle, y'know?" He leans forward slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if testing how close he can get.