Title: You are My Sunshine

Rating: T- There's a smidge of cursing, some violence but other than that, this series is mainly fluff. If you look closely, that is.

Disclaimer:Amano Akira-sensei owns Reborn! and all its characters; I solely use them for writing funtimes.

Author's Note: I, personally, adore this pairing. Even though these two are among my favorites, they go better together; or so I'd like to think. Seeing how this is my entry for a contest, I would honestly appreciate your opinion on this~. :]


It seemed just like yesterday that Squalo had looked into those fervent eyes that promised a strength greater than his own. That he had been flashed a feral grin, accompanied by protruding canines that made his glare —as reluctant as he was to think— ten times scarier than his own.

Perhaps, his mind had since then admitted defeat. Conceding acknowledgment to the fake Vongola of the power and leadership he was bereft of to lead the Varia, that same rainy day, deep in his subconscious.

And, surprisingly, he had been perfectly fine with the way things had unfolded since.

Except, now that he was beginning to acknowledge it with a sober mind?

He would much rather dip his head into the pool of magma they had underground than to even think about granting subjugation to the pretentious bastard of his Boss.

Even so, Squalo knew that was not the heart of what really had been bothering him as of late.

A few days ago, with a large emphasis on "few", the silver-haired Mafioso had the ill luck to have walked in on his superior…consummating… with a woman he had seduced earlier that day.

Not that it had been the first time such an occurrence happened between the two. Neither was it the event itself nor the vexing memory of it that upset him.

Oh, no.

It was the fact that, although it had been small and fleeting, his mind had conjured up a thought that made him nauseous to even reminisce.

For the first time in his life, Squalo had internally wished it had been he to be bent over the very desk he reported to.

That it had been he, who could have been able to share such an intimate and passionate act with his Boss; to be permitted to elicit those groans he gave and be the paramour writhing for his touch beneath him. To have the allowance to admire the faded scars that still fascinated him to the present with his own flesh.

Pulling his prosthetic hand away from the practice dummy he was sparing with, he frowned, scrunching his nose distastefully at the lingering memory.

He had envied the random girl, for having been able to rouse his leader in such a state he knew he never would be able to.

…But the worst part of it all?

Thrusting his sword into the doll swiftly, the cut clean but nothing near accurate, his breaths had gone ragged from the blinding fury engulfing him. Slashing deeper, to the point he had split the figure in half, Squalo glared at it with an unimaginable amount of ire as his chest heaved.

—it was obvious his Boss held no interest in him more tha as his subordinate.

The realization that, despite as much as he tried to embrace the tantalizing warmth, he would always be left gazing at the Sun, blindly, from afar.