The Cry Of A Mockingbird ?Dio Brando X Reader?

?Thirty-Seven [Final]?

“You were in love with him,” Jonathan said suddenly, making Speedwagon look at him in surprise before turning to you. Your scarred lips twitched into a small frightened smile. Your eyes were glossy with tears, a longing lingering behind them. A longing they both knew all too well. 

“It’s such a stupid thing, isn’t it?” You asked. “It makes you lose focus on what your intentional plans were. It keeps you up at night, lying in bed as you stare at the ceiling with all your thoughts revolving around that one person. It keeps you worrying, ‘What if..’, this and ‘what if..’ that. All your thoughts and anxiety swimming around in the pit of your stomach as the concern you’ve never felt surges through you and you feel the sudden instinct to protect this person with every inch of your life, even if it means you don’t survive. It’s the helplessness when you’re sitting alone, asking yourself how you even got there in the first place. What actions led you to the point you’re at now? What did you do wrong to put yourself in such a horrible situation?”

Speedwagon placed his hands over yours, his throat and chest tightening at your broken words. This hurt for him as well, and you could easily tell. You and Robert had been friends for years, and maybe you weren’t so close and personal then, but seeing you now...it hurt him. He wanted to know where the grouchy, trouble-making, sly bandit went. Perhaps they were still hiding within you, curled up in the corner of your head as they allowed the emotions you’d pushed away for years to surface and control you. You looked over at Jonathan. 

“Whatever it is you want, I’ll do it,” You said, surprising them both. Jonathan had expected to come and sit, only to be told to piss off back to Hell. “But it’s not because I don’t want to die. I could care less at this point. The only reason I’m agreeing to is because I want to see Dio suffer again. Even in the slightest.”

“Alright then,” Jonathan said, shooting you a kind smile. “We’ll allow you some time to clean yourself up and dress in some proper clothing.”

“Where are we going?” You asked as both men stood. 

“You’ll find out when we arrive.”

Erina carefully pinned the waistband of your pants, trying to avoid jabbing you in the hip as she’d done for the past hour. First, she tried putting you in a dress, and that you threatened her life over. So, she settled with some boy’s clothing that her father had. H/c strands fell in front of your face as you reached up and brushed it back with your hands. It had gotten long. You would probably cut it soon. 

“Here,” Erina said, standing as she handed you a black cloak. “It’s chilly out. You’ll need it.”

“Thank you,” You said quietly, taking it from her hands and placing it over your shoulders. Erina’s eyes lingered on the scars on your arms and hands. With every person, whether she’s treated by herself or with her father, she’s never seen quite so many. 

“Do they hurt?” She asked before she could stop herself. She immediately regretted the words as soon as they left her lips. “I-I’m sorry. That was so rude of me! I-I didn’t-”

“Sometimes,” You replied softly, surprising her with your gentle voice. “Scars are reminders of our mistakes or even our achievements. Each one tells a different story. Just like a person.”

Erina gasped softly as you smiled over your shoulder at her. Your eyes were filled with kindness, and she wondered if this was what your true nature was like. Your tough and brash demeanor could have very well been an act to shield yourself. Erina’s lips turned up and she returned your smile. 

“Thank you. Not just for now, but before too. You remind me of a little girl I know. I wonder if she’ll turn out to be as kind as you,” You said softly, before turning and leaving the room, leaving Erina standing in confusion and shock.