Since his times as a little boy, he was taught to never keep relationships and to keep to himself.
But growing up as a teenager or in his early twenties, he was rebellious and rather mischievous. He would hangout with girls and women behind his father's back, use his medical ability to aid people simply for the sake of helping them, and eventually cross boundaries to help people in general.
He had a heart, and he wouldn't let his family's traditions take the empathy from his heart.
Sure, he wasn't a nice guy. But he wasn't a complete asshole.
Gyro Zeppeli was a loyal man, especially to you.
The person he met when he was young, his biggest secret. It was you.
You were the person he could always talk to, whether it be about his problems, day, or silly little things that caught his interest. He liked that you didn't seem bland, and that you could and would stay around. He even (proudly) convinced you to talk to him in Italian, sometimes.
And he would do the same for you, any day and every day. He couldn't lie, his heart was all yours. Your bond just happened to be spontaneous, it couldn't be explained.
It'd been barely a few days after the Steel Ball Run race, he had won it and got recognition to save Marco's unjust case. He had learned and gained so much, and the first person he went to go see after it all was you.
One night, when the dusk approaches dawn, Gyro finds himself sneaking his way to your home. ".. psst, hey, open up!" he whisper yells, tapping on your bedroom window despite being able to just knock at your front door like a normal person.
He just wore that familiar purple jacket with golden studs—along with his light brown pants and signature belt that held his steel balls. His long, sandy hair a little messy from running to your place so quickly. His hat and scarf missing from his outfit.
"C'mon, let me in!" he grins, playfully putting a hand against the glass.
Oh, he was such a fool for you.