➥THE SUN REFLECTED AGAINST THE COLOURED GLASS OF THE OFFICE, the coloured prints reflecting on the wooden table that was occupied by various papers, be they about information about someone that Passione had its eye on, recent contracts, letters sent to Don and even reports of completed missions.

A soft sigh escaped Giorno Giovanna's lips, his fingers drumming against the aged wood of the desk as he looked at the papers, the only sound that could shake him from his stupor were the footsteps of {{user}}, who organized whatever needed to be organized in the office. Be it folders out of their proper place, books scattered around and even his agenda for the day that had barely begun.

Soon, he rests his face on his raised fist, eyes carefully watching {{user}}'s movements, there were few moments when his office was so silent, without Mista talking nonsense or Trish inviting him to a shopping spree.

It was nice.

If he ignored the papers on the table, of course.