#lovesigned

— When they want to ask something but too shy.

He said goodbye to go to work and saw you busy in the kitchen. He wanted to go straight away but felt something was missing. So he stopped in front of the door and started talking.

Zayne : "i will go to work now."

And it was foolish for anyone to think that something wasn’t occurring as of a few nights ago. Hence, Cordelia’s presence today in front of Enya. She was there to repair the wreckage, to salvage through emotions or, better yet, butter them both up. 

It takes only one look at the other for Delia to see the gravity of the situation. Bruises haunt her neck, indicative of fingerprints that pressed into her skin. She’s lucky to be standing there before her. 

❝ I’ll do what I can. ❞  She couldn’t pry her eyes away from the affliction. To her, Dio will always be a dragon: test his flame, and you’ll come out scorched. 

 There’s disgust that sits on the woman’s face, souring like milk left out too long. Though, it wasn’t towards Enya — it was the fact that she was complicit and never intervened. 

What was she to do, though? Emotions may be her domain, but a queen still held only so much influence. 

    a reverence for life is often misconstrued as a   blind hatred   for substances that threaten its potential ,   but giorno could never afford to offer his detractors even a scrap of his regard ,   lest he allow an interference in his   blossoming dream .   it’s the   wilting potential   itself that he abhors ,   &   the devils that knowingly place the lives of the flowering youth on the   sacrificial altar ,   their burgeoning identities up for slaughter for the sake of soulless profit .   he’d seen the toxicity of this dynamic at play in napoli   &   across italy   ━━━━   he first had to   know the monster   before he could exorcize it with a force that dwindled a   rampant epidemic   to naught but   fearful whispers .

    with all the   heartsick empathy   he’d endured ;   the weight of a   golden heart   that forged this passion ,   giorno had never thought the object of his crusade would deal such a   personal casualty   (   but isn’t that the nature of war ??   for the   beast   to strike close to home ,   &   when he’d least expect it   ??   ) .   since he’d met his dear brother ,   the possibility loomed above his head like a   rain - bearing cloud ,   but giorno refused to manifest that tragedy in his thoughts ,   too superstitious that he’d unwittingly pave an   avenue to reality .   besides ,   ungalo holds sobriety tenderly in his hands ,   valuing the liberation ,   the   clarity   with which it endows him   ━━━━   &   giorno upraised him through his best days   &   solaced him through the rest ,   extending an understanding ,   an empathy ,   a   love   that ungalo had so long lacked through the   figures   &   institutions   that routinely failed him .

    he’s conquered the odds stacked a   mountain high   against him .   so why has it ended this way ??

    distance rendered the relapse harder to identify .   giorno’s life is tethered to napoli   &   the majority of italy under his thumb ,   &   ungalo is comfortable in florida   ━━━━   he’d made that   resoundingly clear   each of the countless times giorno nigh on   begged him   to cross the mediterranean   &   reside where he can better protect him ,   at least temporarily .   now ,   giorno can only wonder   how long this has gone on ;   how long he had been so   foolishly blind   to it    ━━━━   if he could have done something ,   anything ,   to change this wretched result ,   to spare his brother’s precious life .

    yearning to alter what’s already been done is   useless .   yet ,   giorno cannot stop himself ,   even as a   thirst for closure   drives the pearl - handled dagger deeper into his heart ,   the ache of grief tearing through his core   &   numbing all that it connects .

    the laid ground is still fresh ,   the funeral less than twenty - four hours into the past .   lowering to one knee ,   giorno   does not mind   the dirt that blemishes the otherwise   pristine   leg of his pants ,   their   sable hue   hardly allowing the stain to catch the early morning light .   he’s too focused on the   permanence   of the epitaph etched into the   polished blue granite   he himself had paid for ,   delicate hands trembling in their objective to place a dozen lilies ,   immaculately white ,   at the headstone’s base .

    “   i don’t know if you thought i would be upset with you ,   ”    he mutters ,   voice ringing through the   silent serenity   of the cemetery ;   even the whistling of the wind between the trees seems to   halt   for him ,   “   but i can’t imagine why else you didn’t tell me you were struggling .   ungalo   …   this wasn’t your fault ,   &   i would never think of you with disdain .   i hope ,   wherever you are now ,   you know that .   ”

    his   dainty cadence   becomes watery ,   an   unbearable pressure   building in the sockets of his eyes .   more than just his hands are shaking ,   now ,   but the   whole of his frame   from his shoulders to the knee that props him up .   “   why wouldn’t you let me help you ??   ”   giorno whispers the words ,   though it fails to mitigate the way his voice tears with sorrow ,   distress .    as he bows his head ,   a single tear   scalds   a pale cheek ,   prior to spilling out onto the   tightly packed dirt .

he comes to disoriented and still in the dark. shisui stirs as he awakens, as if to test that his body still responds to him. fingers twitch involuntarily against the weight of something that holds him in a slack grip. face contorts slightly as he returns to a body that hurts. he feels the sensations one by one ( perhaps this is his mind giving him a reprieve. perhaps if he felt it all at once it would be too much to bear ). terrible pain dulled by some mix of medical ninjutsu and medication, aching chest and the tell-tale short-breathedness of broken ribs, bandages pressed against his eye sockets, the fuzzy outline of familiar chakra. he groans, stirs again, shifts in his hospital bed with the sudden realization how badly everything hurts.

it is the feel of it, that chakra that resonates with his own so deeply that it can only mean kinship, that makes something urgent and desperate rise in the back of his throat. a feeling shisui doesn't want takes over, deep in his chest, in the pit of his stomach. cold, unrelenting terror, like a child in the dark ( as if he isn't one ). he raises a hand faster than he should and reaches out into the darkness, towards that energy that buzzes warm against his skin like home. no thought to the way that medical implements adorn his body, no care for how his muscles scream their protest. he wants - no, he needs this comfort. he can't be alone. he needs it right now.

"mom-" his voice is strangled, ragged. there is a ghost of a memory of screaming, then choking on ice-cold water. he speaks anyway, with rising intensity. louder when the response isn't instantaneous. losing composure fast. he's never felt so much like a scared child. "mom, dad, please-" shisui's voice edges closer to breaking. "are you there?"

@lovesigned​   sent,   from   martel   to   pride:

❝   i   was   always   fond   of   our   talks,   you   know.   ❞

there   is   no   place   for   sentiment   in   this   hollow   heart;   whatever   she   may   have   been   during   their   game   of   charades,   she   is   nothing   now.   still   . . .   those   talks   she   speaks   of   were   undeniably   something   he   had   looked   forward   to.   if   the   role   of   a   sister   was   what   she   had   to   play,   well   —   he   was   already   well - versed   in   the   role   of   a   brother,   wasn’t   he?   he   could   be   a   brother.   he   could   be   her   brother,   if   need   be.   but   now,   now   she   is   simply   a   human   and   he   is   a   monster,   falling   into   the   part   he   has   long   been   destined   for.   the   promised   day   grows   closer   with   each   tick   of   the   clock;   selim   is   replaced   with   pride,   and   the   family   he’d   fallen   into   has   begun   to   fall   apart.

he’s   grateful   to   have   shed   his   container   for   now   —   no   matter   how   long   he’s   worn   the   shell,   he’s   never   been   able   to   master   a   mask.   she   knows   this,   pride   imagines;   she’s   seen   the   delight   on   his   face   when   their   mother   wrath’s   wife   presents   them   with   a   favored   meal;   the   hopeful   glance   of   a   child   when   wrath   played   the   part   of   a   father   and   promised   them   a   day   out   (   she’s   seen   the   smile   that   surprised   him   the   first   time   it   cracked   across   his   face   when   she   told   him   a   joke   meant   for   ‘   grown   ups   ’   ).   in   his   own   shadow,   there   is   only   a   sharp - toothed   grin,   hiding   the   shock   that   threatens   to   send   him   back   to   the   darkness.

My Beloved ; Bride.

He walking and grab your hands. Looking at you like there's no way to see another. He kissed the back of your hand and smiled. The grin of happiness on his face shows how much he loves you.

"do you want to be mine forever?" He said while looking at you. His gaze is sincere, looks warm and sweet. You smiled and stroked his cheek.

"for what?" That's what you said. He was a little confused but finally answered your question.

"for being my lover, my wife and my world until my last breath."

"are you sure?" You pulled your hand from his grasp, your gaze didn't look happy.

– soft, cute, couple goals, fluffy.

Rafayel's Secret.

You are the reason why Rafayel always being himself. Cause he feel so comfort when you're with him. Everything you do together can make him smile and even laugh too because of your silly doing.

–When you are sick and he take care of you. [ Xavier ver. ]

Xavier : "you need to sleep after take the medicine. now i will check your body temperature."

You : "i don't want you to worry if you see my temperature is high."

Xavier took the thermometer and put it on you. He waited while arranging some clothes.

Xavier : "let's see."

You : "how?"

Xavier : "it's still high, you should sleep now. i'll hold you all night so you don't get cold, if you don't mind."

You : "i trust you, hug me all night long."

Xavier : "i will."

You : "but, can you read a fairy tale for me too?"