"No thank you ma'am, I'm actually full."
As Trish made her way down the dining room hall and out of the double doors, she had to refuse the desert that was being offered today.
Sure, being stuffed for the night was not a total lie. Most wouldn't have been able to tell from her demeanor that anything else was wrong. But her thoughts were not full of the sweet and sugary choices this time. She knew that she couldn't bare the thought of truly enjoying her desert without Giorno sitting across from her... again.
This was the eighth night in a row of her eating supper without him by her side. Of course the people maintaining the mansion were always there with her, enjoying their meals at the long table, Mista and Polnareff happily telling the stories about their days and bizzare encounters as the leaders of passione and Fugo's occasionally amusing outbursts s of rage.
She was always greatful for this. But it was never enough distraction to keep her heart from yearning the sight of a specific stern- looking "all powerful" boss with a face full of salad leaves. Usually it's what she looked forward to seeing the most at supper, and really every day.
She walked through the large clearing of the reception hall, past the balcony overseeing the landscape of Vienna.
"Yo! Oi! Trish" she heard Mista calling from the other side of the clearing and stoped to face his direction.
" What is it Mista?"
" Do you know where Giorno is? can you ask Giorno to place a demand for a phycoactive drug seizing in Sicily?" "I've been wanting to check it out, sounds like crazy shit is going on down there."
"I'll see what I can do." She said, continuing to make her way out of the clearing." She indeed knew where Giorno was and she was already on her way to see him.
The study lounge's silver plated door was halfway open, and she could see him signing off on several documents. Not an unusual sight. She let herself into the room casually.
"G-"
She stopped her sentence midway as she noticed that the papers that he was signing off on were covered in blood.
"..."
He looked up at her with dull green eyes, as he tried to continue writing while avoiding the mess.
The sight of the blood on the page didn't surprise her. It was three years ago when these letters began appearing in the same fashion as this. Though crime rates have drastically decreased ever since Giorno became Boss, the ones that do still happen are particularly violent.
The blood on the paper was not what her concern was focusing on, however.
"What's the matter?" She asked, sitting down on the chair on the other side of the desk.
He calmly replied,
"Nothing."
She opened her mouth to speak but she had no intentions of reporting on what Mista had requested anymore.
"Is something wrong?"
"How are you feeling, really?" Are you ill?" She asked again
She knew very well about how he felt on repeating himself. But her stubbornness could usually break through this barrier.
He stopped writing and put his index finger on his chin, a pose that one could compare to as his own version of The Thinker sculpted by Auguste Rodin.
"No...I dont think so."
"Giorno!"
Trish exclaimed slightly annoyed. He always does that when trying to stall and she knew this. It's adorable but she wasn't in the mood for it.
"Trish I'm being completely honest with you," he sounding slightly confused.
"You are odly frantic today." Are you sleeping well?"
Am I the one sleeping well? She thought. He's asking about me?...
She shook her head with an exasperated sigh, and walked around the desk onto his side.
He's always been so selfless in it's purest form, a trait that Trish had always admired. But it is apparent to her that he is taking care of everyone else except for himself recently.
She knew he wanted to prove that it was he who could eradicate the evil being done by thugs. It's what he declared to do on that very first day of office, 5 years ago.
But skipping meals, working tirelessly from one dawn to the next. The passionate spark in eyes were already gone, how far was this going to go?
Trish placed a hand on his cheek to focus his attention on her and only her.
He did as she asked, eyes studying her, trying to figure out what she was about to say.
"Honey, you need to take a break."
"I can't" he said, without much emotion.
"You will." Trish replied, her tone solid.
The force of her response caught him by surprise, which caused him to stutter
"...Tri-"
"Come." She said, grabbing his ear, pulling him out of his chair in a direction towards the couch to the right side of the room.
"Ugh!" He groaned in defiance but was complient.
She sat down on the sofa, dragging him awkwardly along. Giorno's lanky figure stumbled into a position that he could never seem to escape from. He was lying down now with his head on Trish's lap.
She began to comb out the curls in his hair with her fingers, trying her best to avoid her ring being caught in them. With each stroke of her hand onto his golden locks, she felt his body become steadily more and more relaxed.
"So, he has accepted his fate this easily?," She thought to herself, playfully.
Giorno's eyes were getting sleepy now, each blink was getting consistantly longer than the last. This stage would usually take much longer to get to.
She couldn't resist giving him a short kiss on the temple.
"I'm worried about you, Giorno."
She said softly,
"I miss you."
"I apologize for not being there with you like I should have been." He said, brushing away a stray hair from her face that fell as she looked down at him.
"You don't need to apologize to me."
She then gave another kiss. Her intentions for bringing him onto the couch were not to force an apology out of him.
"But you deserve one" he replied with eyes fully closed. " I have been neglecting you, and everyone else that mattered."
She couldn't think of the right words to say. She continued to slowly run her hands through his hair.
"Hush." She finally said, before he could continue, putting a finger on his lips.
"Please babe, just relax. You're talking way too much," Trish said with a slight chuckle.
She could feel his lips slightly turn into grin.
He did stay silent after that for what felt like an hour. He savored every minute of Trish's care. His soul had been deprived from this kind of affection for so long while growing up, he was weak to it now.
"Thank you." He said, slurring the words out as the threshold for sleep was quickly approaching.
"You are doing the best that you can. And I love you so much."
Trish leaned over to pull the sheet up and over his torso.
He had dozed off by the time she had returned to the position she was originally in.
"If only I could stop the time," Trish whispered while setting an alarm for 20 minutes, silently praying that the footsteps she could hear nearing the room were not from someone intended to talk to the Boss.