#( you know i gotta one up you in paragraphs cause hflkDKFJSDNKLNSJg <3 <3 <3 )

[jojoingjoseph]

Tension clutched at the sinewy tendons laden in every digit, hooking the tips deep into the fabric of pale blues and worn, sturdy, material betoken of many days of usage on the daily. The fresh scent of soap filled his nose, that slick feeling of slipperiness leaving a thin film over the tips of his fingers ever digging and embedding into the fabric without any relent.

What on EARTH could be so perilous that it needed this stupid, self-sacrificing Son of A Bitch to leave him out of the loop and go on a long-ass journey to who knows where and for What reason!? Why, Who?! Nothing was spoken over, nothing given, not even a single goodbye before the blonde left him high and dry with little more than a note that scorched a contemptuous resentment within the deepest reaches of a worried mind and painstakingly yearning heart. Pearly teeth bit harshly into his lower lip, the harsh stinging of salty tears casting shining rivulets down his stubborn, reddened cheeks to stain their mixed coalescence upon the familiar shoulder that supported him.

“ Do you really Think I’d be that weak after all this TIme?! ” A tightened voice box cracked with the barely restrained Fury, muffled only by the fact he refused to even let his face resurface from where it nestled in scathing turmoil. “ OH SURE, you couldn’t let me know anything than some stupid note while you go off gallivanting like the Bloody Show-off you are! Who the Fuck CARES about that?! We could’ve kicked their fuckin’ Asses if you’d tell me what the Hell was going on! ”  

‘ You could’ve died, ’  Is that all Caesar had to SAY for himself? The mere mention of being allowed another strike snapped his arm back, curling every digit onto itself until the very bones of his knuckles themselves popped with the force alone before hurling itself sharply to clash another hit. The splatter of red painting the air in a soft spray went uncared for, another reel of a shaking arm threatened another blow that never came no matter how much he wanted to just beat the ever living shit out of the Bastard for all the pain and grievances that collected in the droning weeks since his vanishing.

“ Don’t- Don’t you EVER do that to me, again.. You hear me? I swear.. to Fucking GOD, Caesar! I’ll... fucking hunt you myself.. and kill you with my own hands if you do this again! ” Choked up sobs broke apart his infuriated threats snarling through bared ivories, pounding his fist into the other’s chest several times in dull thumbs before clutching a quivering handful of the pallid colors. Part of Joseph still didn’t want to believe this was real, something had to give in this festering illusion somewhere. Something, somehow, somewhere.. anywhere. Caught in a crossroads of wanting to not be subjected to the heart wrenching reunion, the truth lurking steadfast held nothing than wanting it all to be be real. That he was actually holding that stupid Bastard of an Italian in this moment, outside in the cold, pale, moonlight in the middle of some damned street illuminated by the orange hazy glow of lamps.

Various sniffles among sobbing laments wept and shed, his vision barely able to see anything further than a few feet before everything became blobs of color. Constant inhales of a draining nose did nothing to stop the dribbling, the scowl still wrought over his aggravated features ran hot with rushing blood. God damn it all, he hated crying. Hated it so much because there was nothing he could do than let it run it’s course and anchor himself to Caesar until the endless rivers ran themselves dry to itchy, puffy, trails of drying salt over sensitive skin rubbed raw from constant wiping against the back of a hand. Joseph’s frame lurched and spasmed with constant convulsions of a rib cage burdened with the stress of sobbing uncontrollably for so long, the noises of the world still running it’s course all but fading into an endless silence consisting of only himself and Caesar. Letting go became an impossibility even with fatigue settling in, another gulp constricting at a pained throat weighed against the tense muscles.

Joseph wasn’t sure what else to do than hang on for what may have amounted to eons, the flames that licked to scorching intensity of an unbridled rage simmered and extinguished to lamenting sorrows and reappraisals towards a quaking joy to be had just to have the Italian back than be a constant phantom lingering at the back of a fretting mind. Steadily, he was soothed by the gentle caresses and continued patience for his flaring temper to calm itself, every so often sniffling with hitching breaths choking at his lungs in the aftermath of his emotional rupture.

severance  &&.  dolour to fall hand in hand  &&. the blossoming wrath, all rubescent &&. flourishing, is nill compared to the quivering, dancing shadows of this requisited solitude. for melancholic be those streets without joseph’s boisterous hymns, without his presence such an effortless thing was it to fall victim to the fate of a self-inflicted martyr. So often would he brandish it with titles like fate &&. destiny, as if its minacious blade had hung poised at his throat since the days of grief &&. loss. never should the confessional hear the veracity that lingered upon the italian’s lips, or know of the trepidation that festered within his chest at the very prospect of losing him. he was selfish &&. as pallid fingers smeared the blood across his lips he could but accept that he was all deserving.

He should hear him first &&. foremost, for his wrath is incandescent, seethes beneath skin drawn taut in vehement frustration, in anguish, in fear but he’s preoccupied by the intensity of that expression, the mingling colours shimmering, the softest of brows drawn to pained summits. part of caesar yearns to apologize, but it would fall upon the ears of the deaf, for his actions spoken in audacity long before his any excuse could ever be forged. More than anything should he want to tell him, inform him of that which he faced alone, that which he’d christened absolutely necessary to keep from joseph, it would force his hand, seal his lips to a fate that should only further fan those lucent flames of his.

so, for now, he holds him, feels the tender warmth that has left his nights gelid &&. desolate in its wake, feels the desperation in those fingers pushing through the loose fabrics, clenching them in viced undulation. for the longest time he holds him, holds him for the same anxieties that riddled joseph, that plagued him with an ailment so often unnamed, scorched him alive; i didn’t want to lose you too, i could not bear such a thing.

“ If you had followed me,  you could have died.” composure is his imperative, for it wavers in his presence as if a brittle husk had been held together for only impending self-destruction, in only a moments notice could he have shattered beneath the sheer fervour of that gaze.  " I could not allow that to happen, Jojo. “ family matters, it was as he would have said so long ago, things that became his when his father’s name dispersed upon death’s whim; it was something he had to take care of, something he knew would be precarious… he trusted Joseph, trusted him with his life but knew, that if he were to be lost for what Caesar deemed himself responsible, never should be be able to find in himself forgiveness.

Absentmindedly he runs his fingers along joseph’s forearm, for these gentle touches, barely caressing, hold in themselves a breath of comfort, an alleviation that pervades his entirety, despite how choked sobs make it ache. ” I will not ask you to understand and if you want to hit me again, i won’t stop you.“ for he is of that deserving kind, cruel in the way he had to see him, even if in times such as these being together felt, for him at least, like an entire world away.