(no subject)

[volatiletempest]

[continuation from this meme]

He couldn't be bothered to make him comfortable.

The room had been a spare guestroom, but he'd never had any guests. Probably because he never invited anyone to his apartment pad. Actually, he'd kept that particular habit since his youth. He didn't exactly know why, but he supposed it was simply because no one had ever asked. Of course, given his current situation, he was rather glad everyone had respected his privacy enough not to question him about his home address. He didn't need them seeing something or, more appropriately, someone he didn't want them to see. Anyway, it was pretty bare except for the queen-sized bed, a nightstand, and a small walk-in closet. The windows and walls had been reconstructed to withstand anything from bullets to explosives. He had spent quite a fortune redesigning the interior of his pad. It was a pride of his.

During the trip back to his place, Gokudera had blindfolded the newest addition to his household (for many reasons). He'd then set him down on top of the mattress and proceeded to gently tuck him in. Afterward, he'd exited the sleeping quarter to busy himself with dinner. He didn't pay any mind to his guest again until the following morning. It was a simple check up — a careful look over the wounds, a quick dab of the body with a wet cloth, and a cup of soup with a nice straw to suck on. He'd left the house minutes later. His job always came first and he knew very well his roommate would remain bedridden for a long, long while. He needed the rest. It was inevitable.

His shift ended early. Late afternoon, to be specific. He returned to his apartment with his jacket slung over his shoulder and his tie loosened haphazardly around his neck. It'd been a short, but tiring day. Draping his coat over the back of a chair, his gaze slowly traveled across the living area to the closed door where his guest laid. A lazy smile began to manifest on his pale feature at the remembrance. Perhaps, he should pay him a visit. He entered the bedroom without a single warning.

"Come ti senti, Mukuro Rokudo?"

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[serpente]

Sometime after Gokudera had left to attend to his duties, the half cup of soup Mukuro had not managed to drink had somehow ended up spilt across the bedsheets and the floor. The illusionist had managed to extricate his good arm from the blankets and lift up his blindfold to see the damage, but was too weak to take any measures to clean it up. So for hours he had lain in bed with the tempting smell of soup lingering in the room, causing his stomach to growl at intervals. With no other sustenance provided by the Storm, Mukuro had tried to conserve energy by sleeping, merging thoughts with Chrome to explain his absence. Still confident of his ability to see Gokudera's strange disciplinary game through, he left out the less bloody details of their encounter for now and assured her he was being taken care of.

Hearing a door open and shut, then footsteps, he opened his eyes and pulled away from Chrome's presence. His broken nose forced him to breathe through his mouth, which had left his lips quite dry by the time Gokudera returned. Licking those lips, he rasped a reply.

"Peggio ancora, per vedere il tuo viso," he said. Eyes lidded with contempt, he carefully rolled on to his side and presented his shoulder to the other Guardian.

...in which Day 3 commences.

[volatiletempest]

It was finally the day before the weekend started.

There was something about Friday that really brought a guy's spirit up. It was probably because he got to get off of work early. Then again, his occupation was pretty lax in general. It wasn't like he was obligated to shift through files and strategize for hours on end every single day. No, he was a workaholic by choice.

But, strangely enough, now that he had someone waiting for him back at home, he didn't feel like doing overtime. He needed to return to his guest. As he had done yesterday, Gokudera had left Mukuro to his own devices, except, this time, he'd made sure to fix the soup problem by putting it in a baby bottle he'd kept from Lambo's younger years.

It was still early afternoon when he entered the once empty apartment. He felt much more energized than yesterday since he decided not to overdo it today. Now, he was more than ready to spend time with his house guest. They needed to bond — or, at least, he wanted to teach Mukuro a few more basic lessons on politesse. With maybe a bit of reviewing. It never hurt to review.

"Siete stati buoni?" The question slipped out genially as he opened the door to the Mist's room.

...in which Day 4 commences.

[volatiletempest]

Gokudera checked the time on his cellphone as he climbed out of bed. 5:04 A.M. Stretching his arm above his head, he palmed a wide yawn, exiting his bedroom rather sluggishly. It was still early in the morning, so he didn’t expect Mukuro to be awake yet (especially not on a Saturday, ha). Heading to the bathroom, he took a quick, refreshing shower before he started preparation for the rest of the day. He didn’t have anything planned which meant he could enjoy two full days with the illusionist. This could be considered their very first weekend together, so it was the perfect opportunity for them to get better acquainted with each other. He had tended his wounds yesterday, an important first step.

Now, it was time for the second step – camaraderie. After eating a small breakfast, Gokudera checked the temperature of the soup he’d ladled into a baby bottle earlier. He had cooked it the evening before, so he only had to reheat it. Opening the door to Mukuro’s quarters, he entered quietly, approaching his bedside. “Rise and shine,” he said good-naturedly, taking a seat on the nightstand, “I’ve brought you breakfast.”