<Giorno’s vital signs were fading. He was bleeding to death. Bruno picked Giorno up and carried him out of his office and into his bedroom. He carefully set him down on the bed before ripping a strip of the bedsheet and tying several layers around Giorno’s wound.
For the first time since he encountered the Boss’s stand all those years ago, Bruno was panicking. Everything began to tumble down in an instant. How could he have let himself do this? How did he let himself turn into a monster? He knew experimenting with Vampirism had it’s repercussions but this was unlike anything he could have ever imagined. It isn’t like it is in the movies. The lust for blood was extreme. There was no period in which it isn’t.
Bruno cradled Giorno’s head as tenderly as he could, fearing that he’d fall apart in his arms. He was still limp, almost completely lifeless. If Bruno stayed he would risk being discovered by guards. His blood stained mouth and jacket and Giorno’s lifeless body were the only indication the guards needed to open fire on him. But if he left, Giorno would more than likely die.>
“Giorno…per favore, stay with me…”
【 ✮ 】— Like a dying princess, the fragile, androgynous figure of the young Boss was easily carried away from the little puddle of blood the wound on his neck was creating and widening slowly. That bright red seemed to punch violently with his appearance, still somehow innocent and princely even if the ‘encounter’ with the other’s hunger left him rather messily.
— The only thing that mattered, though, was how Giorno Giovanna’s life was seriously, slowly slipping away from Bruno’s grip.
— His body bounced lightly, suffering the hurry of the newborn vampire trying to quickly hide himself and his unfortunate victim far from the light of the guards –or worse, from Mista’s gaze. Giorno’s room was luckily a few steps close to the office, so it was pure luck who saved both of them.
— Even on the bed, the blood didn’t stop flowing –even if indeed he seemed to bleed less than before. Red was staining now the precious bedsheet, as Giorno’s hand lightly tremble, his body lulled and cradled within the beloved friend’s embrace.
— He breathed, in his silence. Grieving, unable to summon the Requiem and nullify the damage on his person, Giorno just squeezed his closed lids a little and remained still like a broken doll, suspended in a painful limbo between consciousness and death.
goldxxperience reblogged this from thetasteofaliar and added:
thetasteofaliar reblogged this from goldxxperience and added: