mafioso knew of this woman. 118o8.

she had ice cream for hair. she had a gigantic cone atop of her head like some sort of crown, making her appear as if she were the queen of desserts. mafioso had heard of this woman from his goons, & from their reports on her he’d structured a pretty positive view on the woman. kind-hearted hardworking. genuine. he often heard about odd-looking pedestrians from his goons so, he didn't have a particular reason as to why she was the one that was stuck in his head all the time. he dismissed it as a thought of intrigue. maybe he was just all too interested in the woman who reportedly had melted ice cream for hair. yeah, that was probably it.

mafioso also knew that 118o8 had a son called bluudud. fostered, as his goons pointed out very subtly. he knew from their reports on her that she was very fond of her son, regardless whether he was adopted or not. apparently, she’d taken him in even when no one else would because of his appearance. which made him all the more downcast when he learnt that 118o8’s son had gone missing.

he thought about it for a while after he’d heard the news from one of his goons, contractee. he studied the case on the local newspaper just to verify that contractee wasn’t lying—& he wasn’t. witnesses reported that they saw the kid run into the street & get hit by a car going way over the speed limit, & one particularly distressed onlooker had commented how bluudud had simply “disappeared” from the car-crash site. 118o8 herself had been far too stricken to provide a witness account of her own. his heart sank in his chest as he saw the picture of her in the front page of the newspaper—kneeling on the sidewalk, head in her hands, absolutely bawling. he’d come to a prompt decision after seeing that photo of her. he’d find that kid—even if it was weird for a mafia leader to search for some lady’s lost child, he’d do it.

so, he ordered his goons to get to work. he made them scour the city, skulking through alleyways & dangerous streets he knew the police wouldn’t dare to set foot in. he himself scoured through the woods near the city, & that’s where he found the poor kid—hidden away in some shrubs in a ditch, sobbing, filthy & all scratched up from thorns & god knows what else. he patched up the child on the spot, reassuring bluudud that he was a close friend of his mother’s who had come to find him. he didn’t even bother contacting his goons that he’d found the child; rather, he made set direct route for 118o8’s house, having gotten her address from the paper.

so, in no time, he was standing in front of her door. he had told bluudud to stay behind him to make a surprise for his mother. he raised a fisted hand, ready to knock on the door. he didn’t know why he felt so hesitant all of a sudden. was he nervous?? of what?? probably because he was about to finally see the woman he’d been daydreaming about for the first time with his own two eyes.. ahem.

he rapped sharply on the door with his knuckles, before taking a readying step back & a deep breath.