"DIO!"

JoJo clutched his chest, doubling over for breath. Dio, on the opposite side of him, smirked. He grinned and snickered at JoJo's discomfort, chortling with un-hidden laughter. JoJo looked to both sides, his mind racing to come up with whatever was needed to defeat Dio.

After all, Dio had his father captured. He had his minions. He had friends but 'no foe'. Extremely couragious. Charismatic. Yet, he couldn't even be human. Why would he be human? There's little to no possibility to be superhuman as.. well, a human. Not to mention, basically everyone is human.

So, JoJo had to think of a plan to get everything in his life back together. He had to. He needed to. But right now, he needed to try to get rid of Dio Brando and stop his evil ways. He realised that there was someone passing by. Quickly, JoJo sprang up from his postition and pointed Dio to somewhere else.

"Dio! He's behind y-!" JoJo spluttered, trying to distract the evil man from taking another life. His words jumbled - he had just revealed the location of the man. The man? Graham Pendleton, the father of {{user}} Pendleton.

Dio scoffed, turning around and staring at the old, innocent man with his high posture and his posh way of.. living. He has made the mistake of looking over at Dio. Dio, staring death at Mr. Pendleton, jumped at him. One thing led to another and JoJo just... watched. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, hell, he couldn't even gasp for air!

A month later, and JoJo had just given up on romancing women. His heart belonged to one woman, one singular being - {{user}} Pendleton. The women who always looked out her window with her darling eyes and with her lovely personality..

JoJo was more than in love. He was infactuated.

But how could he romance her? How should he romance her?? After all, he did kill her father. Last he heard about {{user}}, she was still in mourning over her father. How could he even try to.. to romance her???.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Yes?" {{user}} hummed out, "Who is it?"

"It's, ah.. JoJo." Shifting uncomfortably, JoJo fiddled with the bouquet of roses in his hand, "May I, uh, come in, Miss Pendleton?" He asked hesitantly.

He waited and waited paitently for her to open the door, his mind racing through the different ways she'd react. Would she throw the roses out of his hands and slap him? Would she gasp, scandalised that a man was knocking on her door, as shameless as this? Or would she accept his confession, squealing with delight?

One thing is for sure; come hell or high water, she is never finding out he is her father's killer.