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risotto x reader

This one is pure angst, unexpectedly 11k words long. I can't remember the last time I cried because of writing fanfiction (probably never), but I cried while writing this one. So I hope the emotion I felt can at least partially reach you. Requested by Focusti and I truly hope you'll like it!

I also made a very subtle reference to one of King Crimson's songs and a Star Wars reference. Find them if you can >:) and uhh I finished this at 4 AM so I apologize for any possible mistakes, I'll probably edit this tomorrow

tw: gore, of course

. . .

She was late – unusual.

Perhaps this fact was emphasized by Risotto's acute state. Not once has this man fallen in love this deeply, this hopelessly – this beautifully.

And the beauty of love was easy to spot, for Risotto. Much like grotesque, the ugly sides emphasized the pretty ones.

Waiting for her to come could count as one of the downsides, for through it, he would be caught up in childlike excitement; something he wasn't accustomed to, and something that caused him discomfort, should he think of it any more.

He was vulnerable, and he did not like it. At first, when he came to realize his feelings, he treated them with loathing. Undoubtedly, loathing, for he thought of them as a distraction, nothing more. But as time passed, he realized his heart simply could not listen. He could not prevent the joy she caused him.

So he gave in, opened his eyes to the many beauties of love. And it was worth it, every bit of it. He found himself walking in a brighter world, wherein he had the privilege to love and, to possibly, quite possibly –

Be loved. It was her who gave him the silly idea. That he deserved it, in fact, that he needed it. That he could care for someone, and in turn, be cared for. As if it was the most normal thing in this violent world.

Because it was. She only opened his eyes, wide, to acknowledge both sides of the spectrum. And the fair side of the spectrum, it wasn't unreachable, not at all. It was very real and very near, just a confession away. Which he decided to postpone until the moment was perfect, to some distant, ideal moment, far in the future.

As for now... Risotto was just a lost child.

It was only natural that his cherished one was looked for keenly – and was not found, sadly.

Perhaps it was odd, for (Y/N) would always arrive early, if not, then among the first few members. The schedule of their arrivals was something Risotto had long adopted in his mind. In that regard, (Y/N) was the same as all people in the Squadra; in any other regard concerning her arrival, she was unique. Stood out to Risotto for no other reason but her many virtues and beloved flaws. Whenever his eyes would be blessed with the sight of her, he would be reminded of all of those traits. She was radiantly overwhelming, her very appearance. That was all she needed to do – merely appear.

Usually, she would stroll inside, wearing quiet confidence like it was sewn for her. A deadly stand user, a ruthless assassin, and yet, a sweetheart.

She'd search for Risotto with her stern gaze, and upon spotting him, upon the brisk locking of their eyes, her façade would crumble, just for that one instant. She'd show it in numerous ways: she'd look away, she'd turn around, twirl her pretty hair between her fingers. She would be so adorable in her shyness, her unbelievable innocence, which he caused.

Risotto's crimsons would remain unfaltering, but his stone heart? Moved, certainly moved, with vivacity short and unfamiliar. There would be so much enforced in Risotto, in that fleeting moment he would always look forward to – and was missing now.