The Cry Of A Mockingbird •Dio Brando X Reader•

•Seventeen•

All seemed calm within the mansion. The lanterns were dim, only allowing enough light to see if someone needed to wander the halls in search of a midnight relief. The dogs slept soundly by the fire, chests rising and falling in sync with another, almost dead to the world with a happy belly full of food. The maids, butlers, and cooks were fast asleep in their quarters, exhausted by the clean-up and work they put into today’s earlier party. Upstairs, the main occupants of the house were also asleep. The grandfather clock in the lounge chimed loudly, a sound they were all used to by this point, as the hands struck one in the morning. Rain pelted the roof and windows and thunder rolled in the distance, followed by the booming strike of lightning crashing on the ground. The mansion was dead quiet, making the blonde man toss in his sleep. 

His golden eyes opened to the ceiling above him, startled by the tapping on his window. The rocks bounced back from the glass and hit the ground once more, before flying back up and hitting it with more force. Dio sat up, the blankets pooling around his waist. The tapping stopped, and the blonde pondered if he should get up or not. The thought that it may have been you crossed across his mind. It was like your signature to throw rocks up at his window like some kind of stupid love story, only with reversed roles. But you also said you would be busy for a while, and wouldn’t be able to see him for a bit, so he disregarded it as the storm brewing outside. However, when something hard banged against his window, he jolted up and snapped his head towards it. 

You knelt in front of the window and swiped your blade across the top, and he heard it click as it unlocked. You pushed it open, and more or less fell inside. Your body was shaking from the cold and your clothes and clung to your skin with the water from the storm. Dio immediately jumped from his bed and lit the candle beside the bed, shaking off the match before moving towards you. Immediately, he saw the blood dripping onto the wooden floor. He quickly grabbed your arm, shuddering at how cold you felt before dragging you to your feet and towards the door. He made sure no one was in the hall before tugging you behind him. He swung open a different door and pushed you inside, quickly locking it behind him. You stumbled back and hit the wall, legs shaking as you collapsed and slid down the wall. 

“What the hell?” Dio whispered loudly. 

“Y-you sleep l-like a goddamn bear,” You spat venomously, jaw trembling from the cold. Dio hissed at you to lower your voice. 

“Why are you here? And why are you covered in blood?” He demanded quietly, gathering some towels and a cloth to clean you up with. You tried pushing yourself up but fell back down as your face contorted into pain. You winced and grabbed your thigh.

“It’s a long story,” You hissed. “I-I just need some bandages, then I’ll go,” You said, moving to stand again, but this time you were stopped by Dio. He pushed you back down on the floor in the bathroom and glared at you. 

“I’m already awake, so start explaining,” He said. “I’ll treat your wounds,”

“Don’t touch me!” You said suddenly, startling him as you shoved his hands away from you. You brought your knee into your chest, hiding the wound on your thigh as you yanked your dress down. The first he noticed wasn’t the mud, but how torn the dress was. The hem was completely missing, ripped off by your shoes no doubt. Then, the tearing trailed up further until it reached just above your knees. Your legs were bruised, cut, and coated in mud. He looked back up at your face, surprised at the pure fear in your eyes. Your lip was busted, he noted. Your jaw was bruised and you had a gash on your hairline, making blood pour down the left side of your face. He noticed how your eyes were unfocused, pupils expanding and contracting as your wild eyes flashed across his face. 

This was why you hated Dio the most. He was always so attentive. He was beginning to memorize your emotions and your body language. He knew what you were like, and he noticed everything. It was infuriating. And you hated how he pieced it all together. 

“The carriage,” He mumbled. You shifted and tensed up, stiffly nodding. “What happened, Y/n?” The tone of his voice made you shudder, and you suddenly felt small under him. 

“Bandits,” Was the only answer you gave. Dio looked at you hard for a moment. 

“You’re the only one here?” He asked. You glared at him. 

“Kaliah’s dead,”

Dio’s lips parted slightly, and he searched your face for something--anything that would say you were lying. But you weren’t. 

“The others?”

“The carriage driver is dead, and Elijah ran off with my horse,” You growled. 

“He left you?” Dio asked, astonished. For someone who was so possessive, he sure likes to leave you in the dust. 

“Bloody hell,” You muttered. “Yes, he ran away and left me. Now give me the damn bandages, or get out of my way so I can leave.”

“Or, you could sit still and let me help you,” The blonde replied. “If you’re scared I’m going to hurt you, then why did you come here in the first place?”

You glared at him hard, before turning your head away with a scowl. You slowly lowered your leg. Dio shifted beside you and talked you through everything he was doing. ‘I’m putting this on it’, ‘i’m wiping this away’, ‘i’m wrapping it up’.

“I get it, Brando,” You sighed. “You talk too much.”

“You just don’t talk enough,” Dio shot back, carefully pinning the bandages together on your leg. “Come here so I can look at your head,”

“Don’t!” You hissed as he put his hand on the back of your head. “That hurts!”

“Tilt your head so I can see it then,” He said. You huffed and did so, tilting your head down as he looked over you. He could hear your breathing increase and noticed the grip you had on your arms. He glanced back at your head, cringing at the blood matting your wet hair together. He could see a gash and thought you must have hit your head on something and busted it open. You undoubtedly had a headache from that.

“Here, put your head on my shoulder and sit here,” He said, patting his leg. Your eyes went wide. 

“Are you insane?”

“Shut up and do it,” He huffed. 

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to-Brando!” You gasped as he swiftly moved you into his lap and kept you there as you squirmed. 

“Will you please stop it?” He sighed. “It’s not like I’m going to stab you in the back. I can see better this way, and you aren’t straining your neck. Just relax, will you? I’m not going to hurt you.”

“This is stupid, Brando. Let me go-”

“Y/n, I’m trying to help you. I said I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He said firmly. You were still for a moment, before you slowly relaxed, and rested your forehead against his shoulder. He parted your hair and started to clean the wound, and after a while, he noticed that your breathing had evened out. 

Glancing at you, he grinned. Your eyes were closed, soft breaths slightly tickling his skin as your head resting in the crook of his neck. Your arm was wrapped around his shoulder, hand dangling limply behind him and your other hand was resting on his bicep, holding onto him in your sleep. The feeling of him moving your hair around had made you sleepy, and you were beyond tired, to begin with, so the gentle touches he left had lulled you to sleep. You’d let yourself fall asleep in his arms, knowing that he’d protect you. This made Dio grin even wider. 

You finally fully trusted him.