Signore Is Love Signore Is Life

Coughing. Cinders and smoke.

Angela. Dead.

Signore inhaled sharply, waking up suddenly to the quiet stillness of her bedroom. The distress on her face shortly became distracted by the search for a cigar.

She opened and closed the balcony door carefully, so as not to alert anyone still asleep. A cool breeze invited her cigar smoke into the city fog before her. She leaned forward onto the balcony half-wall, resting her arms.

“Bad dream?”

She glanced to her left to see you, holding two steaming mugs of tea. You held one out to her.

She accepted the offering wordlessly, switching her cigar to her right hand and taking your mug in her left. Her gaze returned to the hazy cityscape below her as she raised the mug to her lips and took a slow sip. You noticed her shoulders lower slightly.

You responded to her non-answer. “…Me too. It’s always some shadow figure chasing me, but I can never quite make out who it is.” You lean your arms on the half-wall as well, joining her.

“…though, ever since I’ve joined you, I’ve had them less and less.” Signore’s tired eyes flick in your direction.

You can’t quite make it out, but something seems to be tugging at the back of her mind.

You offer, “At least we may endure such dreams under such a night sky as this. And the company’s not insufferable, either.”

You hear a short hum as a small smile takes over her face. The moonlight pours over both of you, seemingly in agreement. Her eyes appear to have escaped whatever sort of tunnel vision they seemed trapped within a moment ago. They take in more of her surroundings, starting lightly with you, and then up towards the night sky.

You gesture your own mug at her. “Make sure to drink it all. It’ll get you back to sleep in no time. I also put ginger in there; what I believe is your preference.” You punctuate that as a question by glancing from her mug to her eyes, until she gives you a short nod in return.

You smile. “See you in the morning.”

“Mhmm.”

You head for the door, sensing her current headspace as behind a wall not about to easily come down.

“Y/N,” Signore’s voice stops you in your tracks. Looking back, you see the slightest hesitation in her lips before she says more. “… Thanks for the company. Get good sleep.” She looks back up at the sky, giving a lazy back-handed wave, dull cigar cinders trailing as she returns the cigar to her lips.

“Of course, Madame Signore.”

“… Just Signore.” She mumbles without looking back again.

“… Good night, Signore.”

“Mmh.”

You step back into the living quarters and close the latch without locking it behind you, but can’t help looking back through the door pane. You see her continuing to look out at the night sky for a moment, taking a long drag. She then raises your tea halfway to her lips in consideration.

She puts the cigar out on the half-wall, cupping the mug with both hands before taking a long sip. She lifts and overturns it above her to observe inside the mug, testing for any last drops.