[ from here ] / @myentropy
It made sense that the young man would scrutinize the document to this degree, considering what Prosciutto knew of Fugo’s tendencies. The bitter joke, however, did have a small bite to it that the senior assassin had wished it did without. That being the case, he couldn’t blame the youth for being so disbelieving. Prosciutto didn’t exactly give any indication of his plans to do this.
“Believe me, Pannacotta, it took far longer than a single Saturday to produce this document,” he said softly. He hoped the use of his first name would give a hint towards his sincerity in this matter. “I have the rest of the packet here for next steps for us, but I wanted to give you the most pertinent page for your consideration.”
With that, a soft smile dared at the edges of his mouth. Yes, the ages didn’t match up quite right to be considered a traditional father and son, but Prosciutto couldn’t care less. He reached out with a gentle hand to press his palm against the side of Fugo’s neck, holding him in a grounding touch. It felt good to do this for Fugo, and it felt just as good to do this for himself. To have gained a son.
