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Abbacchio stood in an alleyway. Dark, damp, sad.
Rain poured down, splashing in the dirtied puddles throughout the concrete ground of the alleyway. It smelled strongly of rain, gravel, and slight garbage from a dumpster nearby. Abbacchio stood in this alleyway, stumbling slightly until his back hit the brick wall- smothered in graffiti. He huffed when his back hit the damp brick as he leaned back against it, tilting his head back and gazing up at the gray sky through hazy eyes. His head was spinning, his body felt warm and slightly numb. All due to the expensive bottle of wine in his iron grasp- half empty. After a heavy breath, Abbacchio closed his eyes and raised the bottle to his lips, taking a swig.
Suddenly, the sound of splashing footsteps interrupted Abbacchio’s disoriented thoughts. He slowly turned his head, his yellow-purple eyes fixing on the small girl standing before him. His beloved, precious young daughter, (Y/N). The girl looked up at him, her big (e/c) eyes focused on her father’s state. She realized nearly immediately what was happening, and why she couldn’t seem to find him within the hotel that Bucciarti’s group, Passione, had been staying in. She’d been sharing a hotel room with her father, Abbacchio, for days now, so when she woke up and found him absent from the bed they shared so early in the morning- 4:15 AM to be exact- she immediately went on a search to find him. Throwing on a thin jacket and knocking on her fellow members’ doors to see if possibly Giorno or Narancia had heard from her father, to no avail. Her search led to her delicate bare feet darting out of the hotel building into the heavy rainstorm, running about the perimeter, soles hitting concrete quickly until she found Abbacchio in the alleyway.
“Fuck…” Abbacchio thought through his hazy, disoriented mindset. He’d gone outside the hotel to buy alcohol around 11:00 PM the night before, in hopes that (Y/N) would still be asleep by the time he got back in bed the next morning. Clearly, his drunken wandering led him otherwise. (Y/N) approached, softly sighing under her breath. She reached out a delicate, slender hand, grabbing the sleeve of Abbacchio’s outfit. She spoke quietly, just loud enough to reach over the volume of the rain. “Papà… come inside. It’s cold.” She spoke slowly so that he could understand her. She watched Abbacchio shake his head, the long silver strands of his hair were damp from the downpour of water, sticking to his makeup-smudged face. When (Y/N) tugged his sleeve gently, he stumbled slightly, and spoke softly to her. His words slurred, his voice was a bit hoarse and definitely deep. “I’m fine, baby… Go back inside.” He tried to make his tone sound slightly stern but still gentle, trying to be easy with his precious girl- even in such a drunken state.
(Y/N) shook her head, and didn’t say anything after that. She didn’t wait for him to protest any further, and started to gently tug her father’s sleeve, towing the tall man back to the hotel. She was slow, being sure to support him when he stumbled. Their footsteps splashed softly through the rain on the street, and a passing car drove by in the gutter, slightly spraying Abbacchio with a hiss of water. (Y/N) managed to help him back inside the hotel, ignoring the judgemental stares from the check-in receptionists at the front desk as she helped her drunken father into the elevator down the hall. Abbacchio stayed quiet besides the occasional drunk murmur, slightly leaning on his daughter as the two made it into the elevator.
(Y/N) pressed the button to their floor, and in a few moments, the elevator arrived at their floor. She helped him into the hallway, stumbling slightly with him as his knees seemed to give out for a split second. She used the keycard in Abbacchio’s pocket to unlock their hotel room door, and she towed him inside. After helping him to the bed they shared, she locked the door behind them and quickly went to the bathroom to fetch a damp rag. (Y/N) returned to the drunken man on the bed, seeing him still taking swigs from the half-empty bottle of expensive wine in his hand. Perhaps it was Fiano di Avellino, or Amarone .
Upon situating herself in her father’s lap, (Y/N) could surely smell the strong scent of alcohol on him. She’d wondered exactly how long he’d been drinking, but did it matter? Not exactly.
Abbacchio groaned softly when his beloved crawled into his lap. His back leaned against the headboard, and he tilted his head back, closing his hazy eyes. The alcohol was flowing through his veins in hot streams, numbing his senses and curing any negative emotions he held. Though, that stinging guilt hadn’t left him. His purple-yellow eyes opened just a crack when he felt the warmth of the dampened cloth that (Y/N) had retrieved. She was gently wiping his face, clearing off any smudged makeup, rainwater, or dried tear streaks on his face. Truly, he looked like a pathetic mess, and Abbacchio knew this well. A drunken grin crossed his lips, and one of his hands shakily went to her cheek, stroking it gently with his thumb as the small girl took care of him. In this state, he was entranced by her beauty. Of course, even sober, he knew of her unrequited gorgeous features, but this was especially highlighted in his intoxicated state. Her delicate, plump lips, her big (e/c) eyes, her soft (s/c) skin that he loved so dearly. Her silver hair, matching his, and the way it fell between his fingers was so perfect to him.
(Y/N) did her best to be as gentle as possible as she gently cleaned his face, her fingers beneath the dampened cloth that wiped his face of the smudged black eyeliner around his eyes were so delicate and careful. The emotions she felt were a mixed bunch. She wasn’t disappointed or angry at her father for his relapse. She only felt… pity. Sadness. That no matter how hard he tried, this addiction constantly ate him alive. And she knew how he struggled. She knew the pain he endured daily, caused by guilt and past mistakes that he simply couldn’t let go. (Y/N) ignored but appreciated Abbacchio’s gentle touch to her face, though she didn’t make direct eye contact with him. She ignored his hazy gaze, only focusing on the spots of his face that she was cleaning. To not make him feel guilty or sad, she slightly leaned her cheek against his touch- a slight nuzzle just to say ‘I feel you.’
Abbacchio was just in a trance. Gazing at his precious girl in front of him and her face in his hand. He almost teared up at the thought of the moment he was enduring- feeling so cared for and adored in this moment. Perhaps that was all he needed? Just one-on-one time with his girl. Not this godforsaken bottle of wine that he still held in his hand. Once the thought broke through his drunken mindset, he looked at the bottle of wine that he’d held in his grasp. He glared at it slightly, but the alcohol already had him in a chokehold. It didn’t allow him to feel much anger at himself at this moment. It only numbed his thoughts immediately, and turned his gaze back to his girl. He smiled drunkenly, stroking his thumb over her soft lips. His words slurred low, and he spoke with a slight groan. “ Mio tesoro, I love you… so fucking much. I’m so sorry…” He hissed slightly through his teeth, grimacing in guilt at his state and tilted his head back against the headboard with a curse under his breath.
(Y/N) gently wiped his mouth of the smudged black lipstick he wore, and she sighed softly. She could almost smell his guilt through the scent of alcohol on his breath when she spoke. She paused for a moment, as if thinking about her next words or actions. She shook her head softly, managing a slight smile. “No, Papà. I don’t want you to apologize.” She whispered, trying to sound as genuine as possible. She lightly pecked his lips to further express her genuinity. Luckily, this seemed to relax him slightly- as well as eliciting a light shiver and a soft moan from Abbacchio when she pecked his lips, and she set the damp rag on the nightstand. Her eyes fell on the bottle of alcohol in his hand. The one that he still clung to tightly. It was almost completely empty now- possibly just a few more sips. A few more sips he didn’t need. She gently took the bottle from him, and sighed, putting it on the nightstand. He didn’t seem to react much to this besides a slight groan and sigh. Abbacchio’s shaky hands quickly went to her hips, pulling her closer in his lap. His hands then slowly slipped to the softness of her thighs, his fingertips hooking under them and gently pressing into her inner thighs.
His slurred words continued, and his hazy eyes finally met hers, locking in an intimate gaze. “Baby… Do I ever tell you how beautiful you are?” (Y/N) stifled a slight giggle, and she sighed softly, leaning her head forward until her forehead touched her father’s. She spoke softly to him, closing her eyes. “Yes, Papà, you tell me all the time.” “Still, I don’t tell you enough… I could never tell you enough…” Abbacchio replied, his thumb still gently pressed against (Y/N)’s lips. His breath smelled strongly of the wine he’d been drinking. (Y/N)’s lips parted slightly as his thumb gently pressed against them, and she sighed softly. Abbacchio could feel tears on the rise, despite his numbed mindset. “You are so fucking beautiful, amore mio… I don’t deserve you. You don’t deserve such a pathetic father like me…”
Those words hit deep in (Y/N)’s heart, and she spoke before she could even think. “Papà, you are not pathetic. You are in pain… and that isn’t your fault.”
A silence passed between the two of them, and Abbacchio let out a soft, hoarse, drunken chuckle. “Such a sweet girl… Always saying the right things to me. How the hell did I get so lucky… cazzo… ” His slurring voice murmured, and he ran the pad of his thumb over the softness of his girl’s lips again, a drunken smile crossing his lips as he felt their softness. His opposite hand reached up into her hair, his fingers savoring the softness of the strands- gathering a handful of them in a light grip. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring her scent in a deep inhale. “I’m so sorry… I promised you I wouldn’t drink again…” He trailed off, quickly hushed with a soft ‘shh’ from (Y/N), and Abbacchio chuckled. He lightly tapped their foreheads together, and he slurred, “Can I kiss you, amore mio?”
He got a light nod and a soft giggle from (Y/N), signaling that he gained consent from his girl.
Abbacchio didn’t wait another moment. He’d kissed her before- just like this. And yet it never seemed to get old to him. His lips touched hers, and he groaned softly into her mouth. His hand moved to her soft neck, keeping it in a light grip. The drunk man’s lips moved slowly against hers, and he shivered when he felt her kiss back. He deeply chuckled against her lips, lightly capturing her lower lip between his teeth before dipping his tongue into her mouth. (Y/N) made a soft sound against his lips, ignoring the heavy taste of alcohol on his tongue. After just a few moments of kissing her lips, Abbacchio pulled back with a heavy breath- immediately burying his face in her neck. His arms moved around her, pulling her impossibly closer to him in his lap. His fingertips lightly dug into her clothing as his lips started to slowly, passionately kiss her neck. (Y/N) nearly immediately melted into him as this started to happen. Abbacchio's tongue lightly dragged along the curve of her neck and the contours of her collarbones, leaving behind thin little trails of saliva.
When her father was sober, he was affectionate, but hardly as vulnerable as he was in this moment. She knew he was hurting. And she wanted him to be better. But she couldn’t help but savor this moment they were sharing. It was so special to her- and even more special to Abbacchio. She was his everything. She was all he had left to him. With each deep, slow kiss to her neck, he was pouring in as much emotion as he possibly could. Trying to express his love for her in more ways than verbally.
His fingers tightened against the fabric of her clothes, digging deep into her back. (Y/N) only closed her eyes, tilting her head in whatever direction would give Abbacchio more access to the skin of her neck. “ Fuck…” Abbacchio whispered breathlessly against her skin, wanting to lavish her in so much more , but he was far too drunk to do so. And he’d rather die than make her do anything that made her uncomfortable. With a soft nip to the sensitive skin behind her ear, he nuzzled into the side of her neck and took a deep breath of her scent. His hands slipped to her hips, lightly squeezing the slender shape of them in his hands. “I’m gonna hate seeing you grow older, amore mio … Damn it, I don’t even… know how I’ll react to your.. First boyfriend…” He slurred softly against her neck, leaving a soft bite to punctuate his words. (Y/N) smiled softly, her hands moving to his long, silvery strands of hair. She lightly gripped the thick strands, making him groan softly. She whispered to him, pulling herself just a molecule closer in his lap. “Papà… I don’t think I’ll ever want someone that isn’t you. You’re all I’ve ever had. And I want to keep it that way…” She whispered, squeaking softly when she felt his grip on her tighten. He let out a soft, drunken chuckle, sighing deeply against her shoulder. “You know just how to make me melt, huh… You’re such a good girl… staying around for such a bullshit excuse of a father. I still can’t… believe how lucky I am. Mmh-” Abbacchio’s slurred speech was a tad interrupted by the feeling of (Y/N)’s legs wrapping around his waist. It caused him to stifle a moan and grip her tighter. His hands drifted up her shirt, his fingertips slowly feeling along the softness of her skin, making him shiver. (Y/N) smiled softly, turning her head slightly to gently kiss Abbacchio’s temple and whisper to him.
“Papà… You are perfect. Even if you aren’t perfect to yourself, you’re perfect to me.”
“Not as perfect as you,
bellissima. Cazzo,
I could never compare…”