A Pinch of Sugar | ( unita speciale x Fem!Reader)

20- Carne's Doll

The turnout for the "girls night' was better than you thought, as more than three people showed up. They all did.

Squalo, very obviously, did not want to be there, and looked to be on the verge of taking one of the knives off your wall and stabbing you with it. His boyfriend (you think they're boyfriends, still unsure) holds him in place with interlocked hands.

Doppio and Cioccolata seemed to tie for who was most excited. Secco rested just besides you in a position you were almost sure the human anatomy couldn't achieve naturally, though he seemed comfortable nonetheless.

Carne sits quietly nearby, on the other side of the barrier Secco had made with his body. You're sure he's only here because he'd feel left out otherwise. 

There's a senile, high sort-of giggle that stabs the silent atmosphere without warning, and Cioccolata swoons in a circle on his end. "Oh, so much fun! Girls night! Girls night!"

"Right. What do people even do at these kinds of things?" 

You look to Tiziano and shrug, "If there's enough people, Spin the bottle, Truth or Dare, 7 Minutes in Heaven..."

"Those sound fucking stupid." Squalo interrupts. "I'd rather drown you, and then myself."

"Wonderful to hear I'm a first-priority to you." You remark.

The harsh fluorescent light that assaults the eyes of those present encases the collective in a womb of uncertain discomfort as a sort of look comes across Squalo's face, and his hand tightens around his partners sharply.

It is a piercing moment, the pin-point connection of a gaze to one another so keen and analytical it is narrowed to a discretion thin enough that such thin, thread like connection could be snapped by a pair of fine scissors.

Doppio does the honors, his voice is that pair of sharp blades that severs the silent anger between you both, and he pulls what is left of that thread from either of your heads to himself as he speaks. 

"Behave." It is said, calmly, sternly. "We can do whatever is appropriate for this occasion but we will not tolerate any form of contesting emotion. Is that understood?"

It is almost a feeling of whiplash one could get from observing the switches in Doppio's before, for one moment he may enjoy dressing in skirts and behave sweetly and perform as weakly as a nodding flowers head-- and the next moment snap like a snake hiding within such garden.

You look to him, and he does to you, almost at the same time looking to Squalo, monitoring you both. 

"Yes, sir."

And like that, he is normal again. He is happy, smiling, relaxed, and ready to do whatever girls night entails.

Cioccolata scoots forward some, and a bit to the left, nearing you subtly though at the same time far too obviously. "I think me and (Y/n) should play a game, and you all could go do something else."

"What?" Doppio tilts his head some degree. "But, I thought we would get a chance to all spend time together? Everyone's always out and doing things, not once have we actually associated with one another outside of work like this."

"Well, Squalo is clearly uninterested, and I'm sure you have plenty of work to do, sir. Carne is even staring off into space."

You look to Carne in question, and find that, no, he isn't staring off into space, his eyes are steadily tracking Cioccolata, in a wide, analyzing fashion. They have just happened to track him so still and skillfully that it seemed as though he may have been brain dead, though you knew he was not.