Yesterday - Bucciarati Fanfiction

Chapter 7 - Wingman

Saturday morning, I was awakened slowly by the rays of sunshine heating the blanket, warming me up tremendously. Covering my face with my elbow, I groaned lowly as I threw the blanket off of me. It took me a moment to realize Bruno was not next to me, once I did, I stood up quickly, hitting my knee on the corner of the table in the process. Hissing mutely, I ignored it and marched to the kitchen to see if the mafioso was there, upon not seeing him I felt a tinge of worry in my guts. "Let's be logical. He couldn't have left; he's been assigned as your bodyguard." I mumbled to myself.

The less rational part of me was worried I might have overstepped last night when approaching him after his night terror, after that train of thought I sensed reassurance; Looking over my shoulder, Yesterday was floating with their usual empty stare except they had their head on the side, as a way to ask me if something was wrong. Shaking my head in response, I gestured them to follow me as I made my way to Bruno's room in a haste. Opening the door wide, I was comforted by the scene displayed in front of me, the raven-haired man was on the desk chair, his legs crossed with his ankle on his knee.

"Oh good you're he-" Putting his index on his mouth as I started to speak, I understood he wanted me to be silent for the moment, he then pointed at the phone he was holding in his right hand and gave me a charming smile. Oh, OK. I'm sorry, I mouthed him with an embarrassed grin as I walked backwards out of the room, closing it without making any noise. Exhaling in relief once I was outside the guest room, I went to my bedroom to grab a change of clothes.

Come to think of it, it has been a while since I slept in my own bed, for the whole week I've slept with Bruno on the couch, which was not that bad although a bit too warm. This unsafe feeling, I had after the person had broken in, was completely gone when I was with him, but once I was alone again, it came back strongly. Shaking my head to avoid thinking about it, my mind wandered back to Bruno in his room. He was dressed more casually than I'd ever seen; he wore a pair of blue jeans with a black T-shirt that, unfortunately, hid his intricate tattoo and yet suited in perfectly.

Even dressed casually, the Capo had this dominant and imposing aura. Perhaps it was due to the way he carried himself or maybe it was his attitude, but even with that type of aura he had a gentle look that made me want to stay by his side, and trust him. Back to my initial task, I tip-toed to the bathroom with my necessities and work outfit, avoiding making any noise while Bucciarati was on his call.

"Oh god, I'm a mess." I said out loud when I saw my reflection in the mirror, my hair was disheveled, I had a tired look and the sleeve of my shirt fell down my shoulder. I roughly combed my hair before getting undressed and stepping inside the burning shower. The feeling of the water running down my skin was so pleasant, I let my head fall back slightly, simply relaxing. I didn't stay long under the pouring water, after cleaning myself thoroughly, I left the oh so warm shower and was met with the freezing air out of the cabin.

I immediately wrapped a towel around my body and started drying myself energetically. "Oh, where did that come from..." I pondered when I saw a bruise on my knee, images of myself earlier hitting the corner of the table flashed in my mind. Grimacing lightly, I remembered now, it was barely half an hour ago, how tired am I? God. Finishing preparing myself in silence, I threw my dirty clothes in the basket and left the bathroom feeling better, fresher and definitely more awake.

Walking through the corridor, past Bruno's room, I couldn't hear him talk anymore. He must have hung up during my shower, I thought. As I entered the kitchen, there was Bucciarati sitting by the counter, two plates of French toast in front of him. I hurriedly joined him, an apologetic smile painted on my face, "Sorry, I was showering." I told him as I sat down, rolling my sleeves up to avoid dirtying them. Grabbing the fork and knife at my disposal, I smiled at him and spoke again, "Buon appetito" before digging in hesitantly. Maybe I was imagining things but I felt a certain tension between us, as I took my first bite, I heard his voice.