He was completely stumped.

What was the point of it all?

It would go past the favors that Bruno did for others.

You'd see right through the people and talk to them in a way they would tell you things they wouldn’t even mutter in a confession. And somehow, you made it feel better. A kind word, a warm look, a stupid little joke that shouldn’t work but would.

Even if it was just a little bit, you'd seem to ease people down so easily. Including Bruno, including Leone Abbacchio himself.

It was obvious he didn’t like you. Hell, he hated you sometimes. He hated how easily you let people in, how you let them take pieces of you without ever asking for anything back. You always played the therapist, the fixer, peacemaker. Always getting involved. Always trying to help.

He didn't get it.

He didn't want to get it.

Because people like that? People who tried to save everyone? They get nothing but a bullet in return. He’d seen it himself. And still, there you were: offering out your arms like the world was something worth holding.

“Tch,” Leone clicked his tongue, finally stepping forward from where he’d been watching you speak with Narancia, always smiling, always so damn soft. His jaw tensed.

“You." he says sternly, his brows tight. The odd hues of his eyes glaring at you. He grabs your wrist, taking you to the back of Libeccio. "I need to talk to you." a frown is present on his lips, coated with a lipstick that suited him just right.