Her two teachers were fantastic, and under the tutelage of both, she made a lot of progress. If she had ever considered Bruno only a simple, organized fellow with a useful Stand before, her perspective had changed. This man was dangerous, and every day for the next two weeks, she collapsed in her bed, completely spent.
She still didn't approve of Giorno organizing things on her behalf without asking, but she was happy with the way her classes were going. Over the following weeks, as her body noticeably became more toned, she also searched for more ingenious ways to maximize her Stand's ability. Bruno had suggested that she could perhaps develop her ability to a point where she could turn others into strings too, not just herself; it was only a matter of trying.
Trish no longer insisted on taking her out shopping, but a couple of days a week, she would stop by to see her. Sometimes she would stay for dinner and they would watch a movie together.
Narancia had offered to help her train one day, but it ended with her using her Stand to stitch a gunshot wound moments before Giorno barged into the gym and fully healed her. They had both received scolding, but especially Narancia.
She and Fugo rarely talked. When she asked him about his Stand once, he almost seemed offended. Since he always seemed insulted or annoyed, Jolyne decided she wasn't even going to try to converse with him. If she really wanted to hang around someone with a permanent scowl, Abbacchio was a thousand times better.
She hadn't interacted much with Giorno since that night in the garden. They would greet each other politely when passing by but little else. Hence, she was surprised when he sought her out to inform her that he needed to take a short trip to Nápoles. When she was about to wish him a safe journey, he told her to pack for one night.
It was a strange request, but after being cooped up at the palazzo for so long, she wasn't one to turn him down.
Having become accustomed to the big, high-end but relatively ordinary cars they'd used to get around town, she shouldn't have been impressed by the Maseratti. She only closed her gaping mouth when she espied Giorno watching her from the corner of her eye.
She hadn't been out a lot, but she quickly came to realize that Italians had a special way of driving. A way that she liked to call "fast and without respect for the lives of others or their own." Giorno completely shined in this regard.
"I know your Stand can heal and also bring back the dead, but I'd rather we not go down that road," Jolyne told him, gripping onto her seatbelt like a lifeline after seeing him pass someone at twice the speed limit.
"I'm not going that fast," he tried to tell her, but even he knew he was lying. "Bene, I suppose I can slow down a bit."
As he decelerated the car, she took the time to marvel at how comfortable he looked sitting in a seat that was clearly too small for him. The car itself was also pretty low. It was lucky that the vehicle was designed with the comfort of all kinds of drivers in mind. His seat was pushed back, with his long legs stretched out before him as his foot switched between the foot pedals.
The music did nothing to ease the uncomfortable silence. As Jolyne stared out at the passing unfamiliar buildings and occasionally strange Italian architecture, wondering why he refused to tell her about his business in Nápoles, Giorno spoke up. "Do you mind showing me how your Italian lessons are coming along?"
"Sure…"
She had been under the impression that she didn't have much of a vocabulary to carry on a conversation, but it was amazing how well she managed. After making a joke about Twilight, she learned a surprising fact about Giorno.
"Wait, you're on Team Jacob? Seriously?"
He shrugged a shoulder, keeping a steady hand on the wheel. "I just can't stand vampires. Werewolves are superior in every way."
Jolyne looked at him with a face of utter betrayal and irony. "But vampire powers are so cool!" She began to speak passionately in their defense.
After briefly reverting to English because she was unable to clearly express her genuine curiosity as to whether Giorno could turn someone into a werewolf—no, he couldn't; he'd tried to transform things into non-existent creatures but failed—they went back to the main topic and decided that they liked none of the main couples. With Nápoles in the background, they determined that they favored Rosalie and Emmett the most.
"Can't you tell me where we're going now? Please?" Jolyne begged him.
"It's... too complicated for me to explain. I don't feel comfortable about the subject."
"Oh, so it's not mob stuff, but personal matters. Hey, I get it. Your stuff is your business. And if it's shit that you don't feel comfortable talking about, I respect that. Will I be staying in the car, or...?"
"It's a strange and complicated affair that you could never tell anyone about. And it's bad; it says a whole lot about me."
"Is it any worse than what Donatello has done?"
When putting it that way, Giorno mustered the courage to divulge a little. "Well, you know about Bruno, Leone, and Narancia, correct? When I first tried to bring them back, I didn't really know what I was doing and I made a mistake. A grave mistake."
"Did people die?" she asked, trying to help him along. He seemed to want to share the story despite his shame.
"Rather, the opposite," Giorno said, trying to be stoic. He stared straight ahead in concentration as they neared their destination, avoiding eye contact.
"Oh." Her eyes widened as realization dawned upon her. "You created zombies, like in the movies?"
"Something like that." He parked the car in front of a large farmhouse but didn't get out immediately. He turned to her with a serious expression. "What's going to happen is not pleasant. They're going to eat. I won't tell you not to come since you already know now, but I'm warning you that it'll be very ugly."
"Don't worry, I'm not curious enough to risk adding more repertoire to my nightmares."
After he left, Jolyne made herself more comfortable in her seat. She would have liked to take off her shoes and socks, curling her legs together into a crisscrossed position on the seat, but she instead played around with the Maseratti's setting gears till she settled on one she liked.
Her gaze inadvertently landed on the empty driver's seat and the steering wheel. She stilled.
For the first time, she was alone with a means of escape. Who knew how long Giorno would be preoccupied with the zombie business? More than enough time for her to start the car with her Stand, at least, and go far…
But where could she go? Who could she call? Perhaps calling Gwess and having her contact her father would be appropriate, but she wasn't so sure.
Then there were also spies following her. Perhaps Giorno was a bit too strict with the security measures, but having met Donatello, she could maybe see why. The thought of falling into his clutches terrified her not only for all that he might do to her, but also the possibility of him gaining a power granted to him by her blood.
Living sexually enslaved by a monster that would use her to possibly unleash a plague of vampires on the world was not something she wanted for her future. She would rather die.
Her best bet was to place her trust in Giorno. To her surprise, she realized that she was already starting to. She was not afraid of him and she was sure that he would never hurt her, but... her trust extended even beyond that.
He had been sincere about things that were difficult to share, especially for someone of his position. Maybe she would regret it later, but for now, she was willing to put her faith in him.
Abbacchio had packed a book into her speedy luggage. From the look of him, she would have guessed that he was a fan of Stephen King, but the book he had chosen for her was actually quite humorous. It was a fantasy novel with witches, social criticism, ironic humor, and a strange kindness towards the reader. Perhaps Terry Pratchett wasn't such a strange choice for the sweet-hearted goth after all.
Engrossed within the pages, she jumped when one of the doors flung open. Giorno looked a little paler than usual as he entered; he didn't look very agitated, but he seemed less composed than he normally was. She watched him grip the wheel until his knuckles turned white. Normally, she avoided physical contact with him because of the special case with her blood, but this time, she couldn't help but pat him on the shoulder.
"Are you okay?" she asked him, trying to break the ice. "If you want, maybe we could find a way to, y'know, send them on their way to sleep forever."
He gently took her hand off his shoulder. "I am so useless. I resurrected them by mistake out of my own carelessness. It's not fair that they should pay for my crime of being useless. I know that I should be brave and do the right thing instead of continuing to be so..."
"Call yourself useless again and I'll punch you in the face," Jolyne cut him off. "Dude, do you really think it's useless if accidents occur while breaking the rules of nature? You're a little too hard on yourself." Thinking for a second, she suddenly bounced in her seat. "I know what you need. A fight!"
"A fight," Giorno replied slowly.
"Yes, a fight. You need to relax, and a fight always helps. But I mean a real friendly fight. Not, like, against Bucciarati, or you'll probably be left on the verge of a coma." She rubbed her hands together nervously before looking up at him from beneath her eyelashes. "See, I've been training in case I need to defend myself against Donatello. Since your powers are supposed to be on par with his, it would really help to see what I'm up against."
When he was slow to respond right away, she held her breath and waited.
"Okay," he finally said, eliciting an excited squeal from her. "A friendly fight. But not here. Let's take it to the courtyard of the villa where we'll be staying."
"Well, drive like an Italian then and let's hit the road!"
Going to the Nápoles village with Jolyne seemed strange. It was as if the two things in his life that he did not want to intersect, everything surrounding Donatello and his beginnings in Passione, had collided. One he wanted to put aside as soon as possible but was unable to avoid, while the other had been his own choice. And yet, instead of taking the long, tiring trip back to Rome, or even taking Jolyne to any of the hundreds of other places in the city, he had brought her to what he considered in his heart to be the first home he had ever known. And he had done it so he could get punched by her.
The empty villa was lit only by streetlight. They had barely gotten out of the car and took a step toward the small front yard when he noticed the Bucciarati style in her. The man who never followed the rules for fighting had taught his pupil to do the same. She caught Giorno in her strings and tried to make him fall.
He had underestimated her strength; she was almost able to knock him down right away. When had he become such a rookie? He considered just dodging her for a while, for that would be a good exercise, and it would help him...
He received a punch in the stomach, warning him that he should focus.
"Are you okay?" she asked without looking the least bit remorseful.
"I'm doing perfectly. Now, my turn."
It turned out that landing a hit on Jolyne was a lot more difficult than it seemed, and defending against her as well. At first, he refrained from using Gold Experience, but after a while, the Stands were fully involved, holding nothing back but its ultimate reversion move.
Giorno realized that he had misjudged her once again. Although he noticed Bruno's training, there was something about her fast counterattack and strategy that was also exclusive to her.
Of course, Gold Experience Requiem topped Stone Free, but Giorno couldn't deny that this could be partly attributed to the fact that he had much more experience than her. There was no saying whether it would be the same next time.
In addition to being clever and fast, she was determined and unafraid of getting hurt even in a friendly confrontation. Between keeping the fight friendly and attacking him head on, she was beginning to choose the latter.
What had to happen happened. A bad hit with too much force caused the first blood to spill. Giorno's fist was streaked in red liquid that seeped from Jolyne's lip.
Suddenly, everything changed for him. He was unable to take his eyes off Jolyne's mouth. The blood contrasted greatly against her green lipstick. He wanted to lick the wound. And then kiss her, bite her, suck on her, and...
Jolyne snapped her fingers twice in front of his face before grabbing his hand and wiping the bloodstain off.
"Nope, none of that vampire weirdness right now, buddy," she told him, paying no mind to her possibly busted lip.
"I'm sorry," he said with shame, trying to focus more on the humiliation he had just felt than the desire he continued to feel.
"Don't apologize when it isn't your fault. I'm the one who suggested this. I should have remembered that you have a serious case of hematolagnia." She raised her brows at his surprised expression. "What? I read books."
"I don't doubt they must be interesting to contain words like that," he said, trying to joke. "Please let me heal you."
"I can stitch myself up with Stone Free fine."
"But I really need your wound to heal completely."
"Ok man, but your healing hurts like a bitch." She tried not to wince as he sealed her wound, his fingers tickling the part of her lips they touched. "Actually, I'm kind of worried now. When I'm on my period, you're gonna get really weird, aren't you?"
"Ugh." Giorno's ever-composed face showed disgust. "You're obscene."
"And you're a half-vampire master of zombies. Now let's go inside before my ass freezes. Hey, is it me, or has the temperature dropped quite a bit?"
"Maybe." Giorno gathered up the things in the car, refusing to let Jolyne help. "Let's go inside. You'll be staying in Trish's bedroom."
"As the Don orders," Jolyne said before entering.
She was right, the temperature constantly dropped lower that night, but only for the two of them. Someone watched them in the darkness.
