written as a gift to @ Zuki_chan on Ao3
fem! Johnny
George Joestar adores his daughter, Joana. His only remaining child with his late wife, who she happens to favor. While she was quite materialistic, he had the money to support it. He didn't mind giving her everything that he could because not only did he have the money, her well-mannered demeanor and beautiful features attracted business from men desperate to have a chance with her. She brought him pride, joy, and money; what more could a father ask for?
However, she asks for more and more each month; new dresses, new shoes, new bedding, new everything. Normally, this would not be a problem, but as prices continue to rise with her wants, George has run into quite a large problem. The weight of his debt has become crushing. His horse breeding trade is overflowing with patrons, but between Joana's materialism, the prices of supplies he needs to care for his horses, their year-long gestation period, and the higher-quality breeders that have come to town, he has begun to lose money. Recently, dragging himself into more trouble, he's been borrowing money from one of his customers, Diego Brando. While Diego is rich (and helping George doesn't affect his account much or bother him in the slightest), he is a little stingy with his money and prefers to be paid back. George had told him he would do anything he could to pay him back, and for a bit, Diego could only think about what it was that he wanted. A new horse? No, it takes much too long to breed them... His money back? Not really, he had more than he needed. He came from old money, he would never have to work a day in his life. A nice outfit? He wasn't sure if George could afford it.
Suddenly, it popped into his head. Each time he visited George to talk about his horses or buy a new one, he found himself looking at Joana, George's daughter. He thought she was the definition of beautiful; long, shiny blonde hair, big blue eyes surrounded by thick, fluffy lashes, perfect skin, lips that were the perfect size for her face, and a slender frame. She always wore these gorgeous dresses that were tucked and folded in a way that softly hugged her figure. The shoulders were not padded like other bodices and dresses he had seen around the town, and her sleeves did not stick to her arms. They were often some shade of blue, which Diego had assumed was her favorite color, and her father said that she made them herself. The craftmanship! How wonderful to have someone so talented in life!
He knew what he wanted. He wanted to be wed to Joana, to have her as his wife because someone so angelic should not be with a man who cannot take care of her. Diego decided that he would be the one to pamper her for the rest of his life, he had to be. He sprang up from his chair to get dressed, he had to speak to George immediately. The young man scoured his wardrobe, determined to look as clean and formal as possible without seeming as if he were trying too hard. He wanted to wear blue, in hopes the color would help him to win Joana over. After minutes of searching every space in his closet, he found the perfect attire. A mazarine blue morning coat, layered over a vest of the same color that sat on top of a crisp, white collared shirt and cool-grey tie, accompanied by matching bottoms and black dress shoes. The beautiful shade of blue reminded him of the butterflies in the British Isles he would see as a child. It was impossible for her to dislike him in this.
Knock, knock.
George jumped at the sudden noise, Joana only reaching out for her cup of black tea. He moved quickly to the door, although a bit reluctant to open it, as he couldn't tell who it was through the French-embossed glass panes flanking the solid wooden door.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Joestar!"
"Mr. Brando! How nice to see you! What brings you here?"
The younger man smiled kindly. "I would like to sit and talk with you, if you wouldn't mind."
"Not at all," George moved aside to allow Diego to enter, closing the door behind him. "I'll ask Joana to leave."
"Do as you wish, but it is not necessary. I would like to speak with her as well, if you'll allow."
George turned his head slightly, brows dropping to accentuate the wrinkles in his forehead and mouth opening for a split second. "I'll... allow it. Please, have a seat."
"Thank you, sir," Diego smiled, sitting in the chair across from Joana. "Good afternoon, Miss Joestar."
She nodded at him, pressing her lips together in a half-hearted smile. "Afternoon. Father, should I make myself useful somewhere else? I don't wish to force my presence in the menfolk's conversation."
"No, that won't be necessary. Mr. Brando has requested that you join the conversation."
Diego turned his head to her. "I wish to know your opinion alongside your father's."
The girl looked him up and down, face full of skepticism. Her eyes lingered on the beautiful color of his suit for much longer than she would have liked.
