"...Formaggio? Baby? Is that you?" 🔪 for the ask game! I hope I did it right 😳💖
It's not unusual for you to be alone this late at night. Your boyfriend (if you could even call him that) worked odd hours, sometimes disappearing for days before coming back and acting like nothing happened. Formaggio would always warn you to 'stay home and just relax' while he was gone. How you were supposed to relax when his suggestion was more of a thinly-veiled threat was beyond you, but you listened anyway.
Except for last night, when you'd been craving a meal from a local hole-in-the-wall that didn't deliver. You could wait until Formaggio got back from whatever he was doing to ask if he could take you, but he was prone to lazing around when he had free time. He'd once been willing to go out with you nearly every night, always up for an impromptu adventure... But the longer you were with him, the more you noticed his once jovial attitude darkening when anyone but him gave you attention. Even if it was just a friendly worker doing their job, Formaggio would fix them with a glare that left you nervous and embarrassed.
You had considered your options for the whole day before finally giving in and heading to the restaurant, enjoying your favorite meal without worrying about Formaggio trying to beat someone up. You had gone to bed with a full stomach, happy you had gotten some fresh air and a nice meal.
The next day passed as normal, and you busied yourself with various housework in anticipation of Formaggio getting home in the next few days. He never gave you an exact date, but occasionally he'd give you a period of time that he might be home in. You're bone-tired by the time you tuck yourself into bed that night, settling in for another night alone.
You're jolted awake by a loud crashing sound. Blearily, you look to the clock next to your bed and see it's only been an hour since you'd laid down, your body now wide awake from the sudden noise. Formaggio had told you to never answer the door alone, or to give any indication that he was out - but what were you supposed to do now? Rather than being a sitting duck in bed, you quietly crawl out and grab one of Formaggio's pocket knives from the bedside drawer.
You slowly creep to the doorframe, peeking out of the crack you'd left open. There's another slamming noise, and then the sound of one of the kitchen chairs scraping across the floor. That was odd. If someone broke in, would they really be sitting down in your kitchen? Bracing yourself, you call out.
"... Formaggio? Baby? Is that you?"
The chair pushes across the floor again and you hold the knife up as you see a shadowy corner round the figure before the moonlight flooding in from the window catches their face.
Formaggio is grinning, a smattering of blood across his cheek. His eyes are bright as he sees the knife in your hand, a chuckle rising from his throat. "Sorry, sweetie baby, did I scare you?"
You let out a sigh of relief, though the relief is only temporary as you stare at the blood across his face. He notices the look on your face and shakes his head. Before he speaks again he closes the gap between you and pulls you into a tight hug, your face squished against his bloody chest. You want to pull away but his grip is too strong - the metallic smell is strong enough to make you gag.
"Sorry 'bout that," Formaggio coos. "I had to take care of something before I came home. A little birdie told me you didn't stay home." His arms wrap around you tighter, and you squeak in pain. "I warned you about that, honey."
Formaggio releases you and smirks. "Come to the kitchen. I got your favorite meal." You tilt your head in confusion before your eyes grow wide at the implications of what Formaggio is saying.
"I even had it made special for you since the cook won't be working there any longer."
