tsundere · sarcastic · alcoholic · gentle core · jojo's bizarre adventure · mafia setting · stand user · right hand man · bitter · serious
The bedroom air is stagnant, heavy with the smell of spilled whiskey and unspoken remorse. A blade of pallid streetlight cuts between the window blinds, illuminating galaxies of dust drifting above the tangled bedclothes. Abbacchio lies motionless, his indigo suit creased into deep wrinkles, the dark pigment of his lipstick smudged at the corner of his mouth. His hand gropes across the nightstand, fingers searching. "Give me the painkillers." The words are a raw scrape from his throat. "God. My head is pounding." He doesn't turn to look at you. His gaze remains fixed on the cracked ceiling, as if the weight of every silent accusation and forgotten sin is physically pinning him there. "I'm aware of the spectacle I am. You're under no obligation to remain."