Jonathan Joestar's darling

—

"It is literally the same man."

"It isn't."

"It is."

You looked right at the long haired man and scoffed. You both spent the past ten minutes watching an old movie named 'Man of Steel" debating if Henry Cavill was the same man who played in "Walking Out'.

News flash! It's not.

"I know what i'm talking about," You pressed. "the nose is different"

"The nose is not different, they're the same person." Suguru insisted, he was very eager to prove you wrong. He always was. "The energy is the same."

"The energy?"

"Yes," He glanced at you. "the energy is very...Henry-like."

You stared. "That is not evidence."

"It is to me."

Three minutes later both of you were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, searching on your phones.

When the answer finally appeared, You triumphantly held up your screen.

"See? The man who played in 'Walking Out' was Matt Bomer."

He looked at your screen, then at his, then back at your screen before putting his phone away and staring at the movie.

"I still think the energy is the same."

"Say you're wrong."

He sighed deeply, Suguru never had a problem apologizing when he was wrong, but he hated the look on your face.

"It wasn't even that serious."

"It is serious"

"It's never that serious"

"it is serious." You repeated, refusing to let this go.

In the end Suguru didn't even apologize, he watched the film in silence and refused to look your way.

—

Then there was the thermostat war.

A conflict that had somehow lasted three years. Mind you, you got married three years ago.

You increase the temperature? Suguru would lower the temperature.

You would raise it again.

He would lower it again.

Raise.

Lower.

Raise.

Lower.

Until you walked in to see him lowering the thermostat once more on a very cold winter day, irritation visible on his face. His hand froze on the lower button. "What?"

"Put it back to how i had it." Crossing your arms, annoyed.

"It's too warm. No one wants to be warm like you, lavagirl."

"It's winter."

"I'm aware."

Five minutes later both of you were sitting together under the same blanket while Suguru quietly rubbed your cold hands.

The thermostat remained exactly where he wanted it.

—

The most ridiculous argument, however, occurred because of grocery shopping. Specifically because Suguru insisted on buying fruit he never actually ate.

"You bought bananas." You looked up from the grocery bags to the man putting up the rest of the groceries.

"Yes, what of it?"

"You don't eat bananas."

"I might." He glanced at you before returning his attention back onto the task at hand.

"You won't."

"I could."

"They're turning brown."

"They still have potential."

You rolled your eyes deeply. "That's not how fruit works."

The bananas sat untouched for a week.

Every day you pointed at them, every day Suguru claimed he had plans for them. And eventually you found him making banana bread at eleven o'clock at night. You walked into the kitchen, he looked guilty.

Crossing your arms with a raised brow, you sighed deeply. A habit that you gained ever since you met Suguru. "You were never going to eat them, were you?"

"No." He shook his head, his pride didn't allow him to look up at you. He knew you were right and he didn't want to give you the satisfaction of seeing him.

"So that entire argument was pointless."

"Mostly."

You stared at him.

He stared back.

Then both of you started laughing, the sound mingling together and filling the rest of the empty apartment.

That was the thing about being married to Suguru, the arguments never felt serious. They were less like fights and more like an ongoing competition neither of you intended to win or lose.

Even when you annoyed each other.

Even when you rolled your eyes.

Even when he stole your side of the bed and claimed he hadn't moved an inch.

Even when you stole his hair ties and claimed it was yours.

You always ended up exactly where you started,

You always had everything growing up.

You could never say you lacked anything- from a warm bed, three meals a day, and as many things as you could ask for.

Except for love. Your parents never were the loveable type, always keeping a distance even between themselves- while you read princess stories, all you had in home was distant glances from the people you called family.

You didn’t even have any siblings to share with, all you had was Minnerva, Minnie, for short- your pug. A fat, loveable thing that followed you everywhere.

You could live with that- after all, you began going out much more instead of locking yourself all day in your room. Everything changed when you met him- Jonathan Joestar.

Dark blue hair, eyes like the sky, brave like a soldier from the stories you read. You were about 12 when you two met.

You were being bullied by some goons, them taking one of your novels as you read under a tree, tearing its pages and making you cry, calling you insults, and how you were just rich trash, Minnie barking behind you, her structure not making her suitable to defend.

Then he arrived, out of the blue- of course, they beat him up, but at least they didn’t finish breaking your book. When you went to help him, he swatted your hands away, talking about how it was a gentleman’s duty to protect a lady. You were too shocked to even ask his name, coming back to your senses when he had already left, picking up his handkerchief and realizing who he was.

Jonathan Joestar- son of George Joestar. Your parents had talked to you about the patriarch of that family, he had wealth for generations, and a heart of gold.

Minnie gave your hand a small lick as she let out a soft whine at the smell of the blood on the handkerchief, you gave her head a few pats before standing up, watching the blue-haired boy slowly disappear from your eyesight.

…

Days turned into weeks, and weeks to months- before you even realized, it had been years of your friendship with JoJo.

You and JoJo met weekly, sometimes under the same tree, other times by the river for a swim.

You liked JoJo, it was something you realized soon after becoming friends. He was thoughtful, considerate and a true gentleman. He always remembered things about you, like your favorite novels, how much sugar you put in your tea and how many treats you gave to Minnie in one day.

You were fifteen when things changed.

You were under the tree you two met, you reading as JoJo carved something into the tree’s trunk, you reading the novel out loud for him.

“That sounds terribly sad” He said, finishing his work and sitting next to you, as you had just finished reading. The novel had a grim end, about two lovers that never managed to be together. 

“It is, but at least their love was genuine” You said, closing the novel and looking curiously up to what he had carved.

First your ears went red, then the rest of your face. Your initials on a heart.

“JoJo!” You said, completely red faced, using your book to cover your flushed face.

But even as you complained that day, your mind imprinted on itself the image of what he had carved.

Things changed from that day- stolen glances were mutual, or how he’d get red whenever you whispered secrets to his ears, like when Minnie stole a whole bread roll and you had to blame it on yourself. With JoJo, it was natural, the laugh, the feeling of love.

It was warm on your chest, butterflies on your stomach, a feeling that left you always wanting more, to the point where you even began taking novels with happy endings whenever you saw him, just to see him smile when the ending meant with the two characters finally together.

Eventually, you met what would become your cage. Dio.

You and JoJo were walking after a long day of being in town, when another boy your age came into view.

He had golden hair, sharp eyes and pale skin. “Oh! That’s Dio!” Jonathan said, giving him an excited wave. You knew that name- even if you had never interacted together. Dio Brando. George Joestar 's adopted son. You knew the rumors that surrounded him.

A friend of yours mentioned how she saw him kick a stray dog once, or how he used to treat JoJo when he was first adopted- the thought making you feel uneasy.

“Dio, this is-” JoJo tried saying, only to be interrupted. “I know who she is” Dio said in a carefully constructed tone which made a shiver run down your spine.

His voice felt… Weird, not bad, or anything that could catalogue it as such. But something in your mind was warning you about this boy. 

Then, he smiled, his eyes going from your polished shoes up to your dress, and then to your face in a way you wanted to squirm away from it. The smile made you more unease- it looked almost like a mask.

“JoJo speaks of you rather often” Dio said, standing in front of the two of you. A faint blush appeared on your cheeks- nothing compared to JoJo’s now beet red face.

“I do not!” JoJo said, avoiding looking at you.

“You do” Dio answered, his gaze still firmly locked against yours.

Being close to both of them, you noticed their contrasting natures. JoJo was beautiful in the way a sunset was, warm, full of life- and Dio was more like the beauty of a recently sharped knife.

The thought remained stuck in your head for a long time.

…

You were walking down an isolated path one evening, the sunset giving you a soft warm feeling. Tomorrow you would see JoJo, and you’d go swim in the river, a small smile and blush crept up your face as you stared at a small rock you were kicking. 

Until someone stepped on the stone. You looked up, finding Dio, a small frown formed on your face.

The sun was behind him, bathing him in an ethereal glow that made a knot on your throat- you never bought this whole good facade of him.

“You seem happy, going to see dear JoJo tomorrow?” He said, his tone dangerous. This wasn’t a random encounter, and you knew that. He had been waiting for you.

His shoe kicked the rock to the grass, making you take a step back he quickly diminished by stepping forward into your personal space. 

“What exactly do you want from me? JoJo is my friend” You said, frowning- you looked at the path in front of you, no one was near. You felt like a cornered rabbit.

“Yet you look at him as though you’d like him to be more” He answered, making your face go red between anger and embarrassment of being read so easily. Your mouth opened but no sound left- what could you do, deny the claim? You couldn’t lie with something like that- specially since your feelings were filled to the brim towards JoJo.

Dio’s face morphed into satisfaction at your reaction. 

“Do you know what I think?... I think JoJo would never take what he wants from someone like you.” He said, and his eyes roamed your body with an intensity that made you feel physically nauseous.

There wasn’t desire, or lust in his eyes- it was something worse. It looked like ownership. Like branding an animal.

Sensing the danger, you tried to push past him- but his hand grabbed onto your wrist, hard, his strength nothing compared to anything you’ve felt before.

“Let go!” You said, trying to pry yourself from his grasp, his hand only tightening around your wrist until it hurt.

“But I am not Jonathan” He said, and pulled you towards him, his lips meeting yours. Your eyes widened and tears filled your vision, your free hand going to his chest in order to push him away, his other hand quickly grabbing it.

Tears now fell down your cheeks, softly landing on your clothes after going down your face.

Your first kiss. You had planned it- it would be with JoJo, under a sunset as pretty as this one.

But he wasn’t JoJo, and now there wouldn’t be another first kiss.

…

In the weeks that followed, people treated you differently. As if you belonged to him. Dio.

Jonathan- not JoJo anymore, you lost the ability to use his nickname after that fatidic kiss, became a ghost in your mind. It was near impossible to find him now. You were tied to something you repulsed, and worse? You couldn’t even fight back.

You saw his strength that day, and you were scared of what it could do if you retaliated.

You couldn’t do much except be quiet, and sadly, it only fueled the town’s rumors. Somehow word spread that you were now being courted by Dio, and of course, you couldn’t bear to speak now, it was too late. What were you supposed to do? Your parents were finally happy with you, since Dio was highly respected. 

He wouldn’t truly pay any sort of attention to you- only when necessary, like rubbing salt on a wound, locking your cage as you couldn’t do anything but watch from inside.

You learned very quickly that your words didn’t matter anymore. What once were loud laughs with Jonathan now was nothing but quiet glances with Dio, filled with hate and fear.

Poor Jonathan- you could see it in his eyes, whenever he greeted you from a respectful distance, you could easily see his torment. He had fought so hard to finally have a good friendship with Dio, and he was torn whether to fight or simply stand back, but it was too late to fight now, even George seemed excited about Dio’s future with you, completely unaware of the special bond you had with his other son.

…

Years showed no mercy, time never slowing. It was as if you saw yourself in third perspective, your only escape now being your novels. Your little act of rebellion was to read and re-read the ones you used to share with Jonathan, a little secret of yours Dio hadn’t found out. Or maybe he did, and merely allowed you that out of the mere satisfaction of knowing you were only suffering more with each page.

You were 18 now. You had grown into “quite the lady”, as some older women said, since you wore your quietness as a veil. Rarely you spoke, only when strictly necessary.

Dio enjoyed that part a lot. He had once again outsmarted JoJo. With the years you became compliant and more like a doll than a human being.

Today, you had been invited to the Joestar’s manor, apparently there was some sort of social gathering, even your parents attending such a thing. You stood next to Dio, in your usual quietness.

You had noticed something about him. He had always seemed charming on the outside, but you knew better- yet, it was as if something was unraveling inside him. It all began when Minnie went missing.

She was too old to run away, and too fat to even consider said activity- yet one day after you refused to go out with Dio in order to spend time with her, she disappeared- left without a trace. Your parents insisted maybe some other creature got her, but you knew Dio’s stance on dogs.

You didn’t want to believe such a thing, how could someone be so cruel and heartless?

One of your friends insisted she saw him at night alone- drinking and attacking some homeless drunk. That she thought it was somebody else, after all, Dio was extremely respected! How could one man have so many faces?

Dio’s hand placing on the curve of your back snapped you back into reality. Right. The social gathering.

It felt so weird to see so many people here, all blessed with exorbitant amounts of money, completely indifferent to how the people in the lower side of town suffered. You felt uncomfortable, the feeling becoming worse after you saw Jonathan’s dark blue hair walking across another room.

“He still thinks people are rewarded for loyalty. For honor…Pathetic.” Dio said. He didn’t bother hiding in his mask in front of you, you were practically an obedient pet by now.

You knew what he meant by that comment. Jonathan had always thought goodness mattered- something Dio didn’t even bother trying to believe or try.

You lightly frowned, keeping your mouth shut. George Joestar was talking to your parents- but he looked… Wrong. His skin was pale and his hands had a light tremor. Dio didn’t even bother mentioning it to you- you only realized about a week ago you came to visit.

From that time, in which you had a small pleasant chat with him, he told you he had gotten skin with something still not discovered, that he had been given medicine, but it was barely starting, and he had hopes it’d get better. The moment he mentioned Dio even helped give him his medicine, you felt a shiver run down your spine, forcing a smile as your mind drifted off to the worst thought.

He wouldn’t- right?

A stone mask sat on Jonathan's desk. A stone that’d mark the end and the beginning at the same time, question is, what will your role be?

...