002 - a funny little chat

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Bucciarati turned his back to me, walking towards Libeccio's iconic green door and opening it, motioning for me to go in first. I drew my bottom lip between my teeth, nibbling on the muscle for a few seconds.

"Fuck it, what could go wrong?" I sighed, before giving, to nobody in particular, a lopsided smile as I accepted his gesture.

"Language." Bucciarati softly scolded me.

"You're not my mom." I scoffed as I took in the sight of a mostly empty Libeccio, only a few customers and loitering waiters could be seen.

Yet.

Bucciarati only quietly sighed at my response and said nothing more. The waiter standing near the door to greet guests nodded at Bucciarati, a sign of courtesy, and Bucciarati nodded back, returning the favor. I followed him as he walked towards his usual table.

The restaurant was oddly quiet, I was sure I would hear Fugo screaming his head off when Narancia got a simple math problem wrong, again. Or maybe even Mista complaining about the damned number; four.

As we rounded the corner and walked through the archway to the sectioned off room. My small hopes were instantly dashed, seeing that their usual table was empty. The corners of my lips turned downwards faintly, just enough so Bucciarati wouldn't notice my disappointment.

"Please, take a seat here." Bucciarati smiled warmly as he pulled out a chair at his team's table. I thanked him and sat down; he then did the same, taking the chair adjacent from me.

Bucciarati called a waiter over and asked him for two menus. The waiter smiled and nodded, walking away to get what Bucciarati had requested.

"Say, (Y/N), have you ever been here, to Libeccio, before?" Bucciarati inquired, probably wanting to make small talk as the waiter was gone.

"Nope." I shook my head slightly, "Never been."

"Ah, that's alright. I'm sure you'll love the squid pasta they serve here."

"Maybe," I shrugged, "I want to see what else they have first before I choose."

"Of course."

The conversation promptly died when the waiter returned not a minute later with the requested menus. He handed each of us one and then left to attend to other matters, leaving Bucciarati and I to browse the menu.

It, no, I felt weird. It was strange to be casually sitting at Bucciarati's favorite restaurant with the man himself. It was strange that none of his team members were with him— but I suppose the other team members do have lives outside of Passione, or perhaps they're just on a job. I mean, this whole predicament I was in was strange.

How in the world did I end up here in the first place?

My eyes skimmed down the menu, albeit I wasn't taking anything in. An awful bubble of nervousness formed in my stomach, and I said something I probably shouldn't have said.

"You're a gangster, aren't you?"

Bucciarati seemed to choke on his own spit at my abrupt and unexpected question, but he instantly regained his composure.

Good job (Y/N)! You absolute idiot! I groaned sarcastically in my head, ignoring the urge to roll my eyes.

"Yes, I am. What leads you to think that?" He inquired, a faint smile on his face. His smile had a threatening undertone, but I tried to ignore it.

"Um... I dunno. Gut feeling I guess." I lied, my body language showing no hint of untruthfulness. It was second nature to me, lying. It was something useful, helping me get out of anything— even if it was for a short period of time.

DISCONTINUED reincarnated into the jojoverse [vento aureo x reader]Where stories live. Discover now