#teaserrrr

beautiful VP (and Carmen) courtesy of the incredible @doomedlamb

Some two hundred years ago, in a realm between realms, a single drop of blood was split into two bodies— but one soul. This is the origin point, the first but not the last spill of scarlet in a tangled tale. These pieces broke apart, and they found each other again, again, and again.

This is a story of unfathomable distance and intimate understanding, a story rife with longing, pain, and love that tears the world apart.

Fugo. What a name. "Pannacotta Tor-" He remembers when he introduced himself to Bucciarati. He had paused to think, possibly way too hard about who he would be, from that point forward. A picture from his nonna's little cottage came to his mind, an old, sepia-toned photograph of her family when she was young. The name on the label wasn't one he had ever heard a person use, but he hoped his nonna would forgive him for taking it. It was his, now.

"Pannacotta... Fugo." He had nodded, swallowing around a lump in his throat. The smile leveled at him was so warm, he had wondered if he would melt from it.

"Fugo. That's a lovely name. My name is Bruno Bucciarati. You will use my surname when speaking to me." The words were stern, yet from the second-nicest person Fugo had ever known.

So... He's having a hard time adjusting to Bucciarati. He still questioned why on earth he was recruited to this soon-to-be-man's team. Every day felt like a new test, whether it be a mission or just learning to do chores. He was picking up on cooking the best, and Fugo was happy with that. It felt as though he had a normal family, for once. If... His 'father' were only four years older than him, and they killed people sometimes.

That was much more rare of an occurrence than Fugo had originally assumed, so far. It was early February, about four weeks since joining Bucciarati, and about four weeks since he last blacked out. Or... That's how he had come to describe it. Sometimes when he'd get too overwhelmed, Fugo would lose control, and come to after having spent however long on autopilot. And that's it. That is all there is to it.