Mista found himself awakening softly to the warmth of the day steeping into the room. The light wind was shifting the curtains on the bed, which hit him in the back of the head. He paid it no mind, eyes resting themselves on the person sleeping next to him.
Giorno Giovanna looked not unlike a statue. He was absolutely stunning, his skin completely flawless and without blemish, his face a testament to the abilities of genetics. One could scarcely see him breathe without focus. The sunlight filtered through the texture of the curtains, which reflected in dots upon his forehead and cheek. He posed as though he knew he was being watched, his arms showcasing his form and his hair splayed beneath him in a way that could only be on purpose.
It was embarrassingly tender to see him like this. Giorno’s face was bare and his hair was loose, making him seem like almost a different person. His eyelashes were so pale without anything on that they were difficult to see, and his hair, which was once straight, slowly formed waves as it fanned out and away from him.
He was lithe and pale still, almost nymph-like. He was so pale that blue veins could easily be seen beneath his skin. He did a great deal of work every day, but none of this seemed to show on his face, no matter the stress he encountered. Mista wondered if he ever would change. If, maybe, he would stay young and beautiful forever, much like his father. It seemed likely.
Distantly, a church’s bell rang a double digit number. Giorno stirred slightly, but did not wake. He knew better than to wake him. It was Giorno’s day off, if he ever had something like one, and he needed the rest more than he would care to admit. Beside the bed, a half-eaten tray of food still remained from their breakfast earlier. They were much more lazy than usual, but Mista had to admit he enjoyed it. He wanted to stroke Giorno’s face gently, to wake him up and kiss him and hold him tightly. His chest throbbed, but he ignored it. That was not quite the relationship that they held.
Still, he wanted to. Giorno shifted to lay more on his back, eyes unopening. The sheet slid further down, freeing his body slightly. God, he was beautiful. His breathing became less even, then became even again. Mista found it so easy to look at Giorno when he was asleep. He looked so gentle and calm.
“Are you going to stare at me all day, Mista?” Giorno asked suddenly, his eyes opening to look at him. Mista turned red, not having realized he had awakened. Giorno leaned on his side, turning to Mista and smiling.
“Sorry,” Mista began. Giorno cut him off.
“Don’t apologize.” He said, running a hand over Mista’s jaw softly. “I have done the same to you before.”