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Cioccolata was a sick bastard, but he was a strong asset. The ruthless strength of his authority and Stand mixed with his repulsive morbid desires was more than enough to keep his subordinates trapped under his thumb. Secco’s first meeting with the twisted doctor had taught him how to survive. Thus, he played along as the sadist’s loyal mutt.
Then, there you were, Cioccolata’s nurse. As far as Secco knew, you had been by Cioccolata’s side far longer than him. Your gaze was meek and timid, never speaking but always obeying. Though you kept your composure in the face of Cioccolata’s horrid experiments, Secco could always hear your heart beating rapidly in fear. He had a feeling you were in the same boat as him, playing along with the sadistic surgeon just to survive.
You seemed weak, but Secco enjoyed your company. Well, any other company was better than Cioccolata. Whenever he was away, you’d somehow come drifting into his mind, the thought of you being the only comforting thing had been sustaining his sanity.
Today, the doctor had left you two alone to run some personal errands. Sitting cross-legged on the couch, Secco stared at you curiously, your figure hovering over a computer. The stiff wooden desk chair seemed uncomfortable on your poor back, but you kept on with your work. Your fingers drummed away at the keyboard, hurriedly writing up the sick reports of Cioccolata’s recent experiments. Much like Secco’s videotaping, the surgeon had insisted you record every horrifying bit of his endevours.
A small tugging on your sleeve pulled your attention away from the screen. Looking down, you were met with Secco’s wide eyes, irises beautifully colored a vibrant purple. He frantically pointed at his mouth along with his nonsensical babbling. Ah, he must want sugar cubes.
You briefly shuffled around the desk, finding a stash of sugar cubes hidden in one of the drawers. The treats filled the palm of your hand as you held your hand out to Secco, a gentle smile gracing your face as he happily crunched on the sugar. Your other hand moved to pat him on the head, as odd as it was to do to a human. He seemed to enjoy your soft touch either way, contrary to Cioccolata’s rough petting.
Just as you moved to pull away, his hand tightly wrapped around your wrist, the hand that held the sugar cubes still sticky from the residue. Your eyes widened in shock as his tongue peeked out to lick your hand, cleaning up the sugar that remained. Secco couldn’t help but smile slightly at the jump in your heart rate, feeling your pulse as his gripped your wrist. He almost wanted to test how far he can go to tease you.
But reluctantly, he let go of you, not wanting to scare you too much. You were probably the only person who could save him from this mess, seeing as you made it this far around Cioccolata. He couldn’t afford to destroy his relationship with you.
His eyes were fixated on you as you walked over to the kitchen sink to wash your hand. His cheek rested against his fist as he regarded you. He wondered thoughtfully if your cleaning habits were propagated by your repulsion of Cioccolata’s deeds. The man always left a staining mess after his torture sessions, never failing to leave a lasting impression in your psyche.
Secco’s head perked up when you turned away from the sink, hands dried but slightly red as you headed back toward the work desk. Promptly, he bounded over to you to tug at your sleeve again, this time pulling you toward the couch. Hell, he knew you could use a break, and he wanted to have fun while Cioccolata was finally away.
You cocked your head questioningly as Secco sat you down on the couch cushions. Even as you attempted to stand up, he insistently pulled you to sit down. You smiled again, realizing his intentions as he curled up beside you, his head resting on your comfortable lap. Though none of you spoke, you always found ways to communicate.
Secco felt like melting under the tentative touch of your fingers brushing along the side of his face. You were so sweet and gentle to him, unlike the fucked up world you were in. It truly was a shame that you were so weak. Or so Secco thought.
A few days later, he came back to Cioccolata’s residence only to be greeted with silence. This wasn’t right.. Cioccolata would normally welcome him back with sugar cubes and headpats. Where the hell was he?
The muscles under his Stand stiffened. Did he smell blood? And did he hear crying? Carefully, he creeped further into the house, the smell of blood growing stronger. A voice he never heard before rang out quietly.
“Finally.. finally..” It was shaky and broken, coming out in sobs.
The voice came from Cioccolata’s bedroom, the door creaking ajar. With careful steps, Secco inched toward the door, taking in the scene before him.
He almost didn’t recognize you. Large splatters of blood painted your normally spotless clothes as you kneeled over a mutilated body. Cracked syringes and medical supplies littered the room, patches of blood covering them. Your figure shook as you cried, relief flooding in your voice. “It’s.. it’s finally over.”
Secco moved closer, drawn by your voice, never before heard. You made no move to push him away as he sat beside you. If you noticed his presence at all, you made no comment on it.
Instead, Secco’s eyes flitted to the body in front of you. The patterns on those clothes were unmistakably Cioccolata’s despite how bloodied and torn up they were. His gaze trailed up to where the doctor’s face should be. The man’s head was smashed in and ripped apart to the point where he was unrecognizable. Bits of his crushed brain creeped out of his shattered skull, the blood leaking out to cover the vibrant green color of his hair.
Secco listened hard, looking for a heartbeat. Nothing. Other than his own and yours. A wide grin stretched across his face. “He’s dead..”
You flinched next to him, hiccuping slightly. You rubbed your arms nervously, your nails harshly digging into your skin. Your heart was still pounding from the adrenaline and the release of pent up emotions. Blood rushed through your veins frantically, no sign of calming down. “S.. Sorry.. I-”
Whatever you were about to say was cut off as a pair of athletic arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. “S-Secco-?”
His hard muscles pressed against your soft body uncomfortably, but you welcomed the affection anyways. His face nuzzled warmly in the crook of your neck as he spoke coherently rather than his usual garbled speech. “Serves that piece of shit right, huh? Guess I don’t have to act like a dog anymore.. I felt like I would’ve lost myself if I had gone on any longer.”
Your body slumped against his in relief upon hearing Secco’s true voice. It was as if the curtains were raised, not having to put up a front anymore. He pressed his chapped lips against the side of your neck as your tainted arms circled around him. Steadily, your quivering body calmed down as he rubbed deliberate slow circles against your back. He mumbled quietly into your sweet skin. “I knew you’d be the one who’d save me.”