What Does Pizzle Mean

Giotto Fanfic} {Daemon x 21 grams - the weight of the soul + Fanfic OST

Title: 21 grams - the weight of the soul.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Daemon Spade x Giotto
Beta-reader: funghettonero
Notes & Warnings: Pre-betrayal of Swords Angst, Melancholy, Shounen-ai.

"How many lives do we live? How many times did you die? It is said that at the precise moment of death all lose 21 grams of weight. No exceptions. But what is there in 21 grams? How much is lost? When we lose those 21 grams? What goes with them? How much do you earn? How ... yes ... gains? 21 grams, the weight of five nickels each other. The weight of a hummingbird, a chocolate bar. How much are 21 grams? '.

incitement of G. and any two men, Giotto raised once again the elbow, reaching the glass to his lips and allow the alcohol down her throat and then finally, leaning nonchalantly on the table without bothering to look these - one separately.

see the smile of Daemon Swords albeit hidden from the glass closer to her lips from time to time, it was pretty easy and I thank that little bit of lucidity and merely had to throw a little look 'just to make him angry guess who was still angry.



To understand what happened between the two must go back several hours.

Giotto had just come home a long three-day mission with G. Rather tired and with several injuries on the body which he had obtained during a confrontation with the Boss of the Family Cavallone, with whom he was not harmonious relations in that period. He had never been the kind of person who preferred to turn an ordinary event like signing a treaty in a fight, but that Cavallone could always bring out the worst of him, taking advantage of the fact that Giotto was still a pretty young guy, with the ideals , but still young.

Discharged G. closed in the room, took off his coat winter nervously threw on the nearest chair followed soon after by the pinstripe jacket. While unbuttoned his shirt, Noting the obvious signs of a mirror to what was thinner at that time, he realized he had laid on him a look.

Needless to say, not much tried to imagine who it was, his eyes were immediately fell on Daemon's face in the mirror staring at him with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Welcome back Boss'. Without even a minimum of hesitation Daemon came, bringing his hands on his shoulders to help him slip off his shirt torn to shreds on several sides of the sleeves, Giotto let him without taking even for a glance at the mirror noticing the expression the other that he was perfectly at ease, unlike his own.

"Recently I talked with G. ... So to speak is like shooting big ... "a face had distorted his face, it was known that he and G. can not stand, or more likely was G. Daemon could not stand the dark and then the feeling became mutual, "I said that eventually the Cavallone have decided to become our allies."

Daemon was always the first to become interested in spite of the bureaucracy and would prefer to deal with Giotto in person more often than they did consult the Guardian Fog of intuition to give him good advice.

"So apparently, although I must admit that it did not seem very convinced." He admitted with a sigh, the blonde, the other away in search of a new shirt.

Before he realized he found himself a Daemon arm around his waist that removed him from the chest that he had tried in vain to reach, letting his hand wrapped in glove on a wound surface, which forced response to Giotto squint suppressing a groan of pain.

"First you should treat your wounds." The His hand had reached the face of Giotto, slowly touching it with the back and finally let the other turns to him.

A quick exchange of glances made sense to Daemon that there was something wrong in the other, beyond the physical discomfort seemed to suffer morally.

"At this moment I would just go to bed and sleep for at least nine hours, I think that might be enough ..." the blond murmured with a slight smile on his lips, Daemon had pushed the hand that still held pressed against lives of others and turning to look at physical barest to what Giotto had never been.

"Are you still lost weight." He looked, this time on her face there was any kind of derisive expression, even in his eyes you could almost see a light shine concern.

Giotto in the meantime had first worn the black shirt he found in the closet, look elsewhere as if to ignore the words of others, his thoughts had turned elsewhere.



"Watch your back, your not all men are worthy of your trust. Some people will treat you like a brother, who though far away will protect you, who will try deep respect and may even be someone willing to betray you. "



while returning from a mission old beggar had read the papers, Giotto did not believe in that sort of thing, but unexpectedly had guessed several elements of his life, and that sentence in particular had blown away. He knew that the chosen route was not easy, but because of that revelation was asked how it was possible that some of his companions would betray him when we were all sworn eternal friendship.

"I repeat that I am just tired, and I want to sleep ..." The flow of words was interrupted by the lips of the other which came to rest on his overbearing, leaving it for a few seconds displaced.

Daemon himself surprises of his act, finding himself staring at the shocked face of the boss but could not find a way to unlock.

The answer came soon after by Giotto himself, a slap in the face that brought the dark to the present: the cheek ached and the frown of the blonde.

"Do not try anymore," said Boss of the Vongola blushing slightly, slightly serious tone of voice and eyes a bit 'shiny a vision is not an everyday word.

Daemon from his sensibility put her hand on his forehead, to hold back a laugh and make fun setting with Giotto. She laughed often moments of his stall or embarrassment, it was pretty obvious that he did it with style.

From the point of view Giotto preferred that their relationship was like that, rather than when they quarreled or their ideas - often different, despite Daemon had some insight into different camps are contrasted, though there was to say that Daemon's ideas conflicted with those of most of the group.

***

He saw Giotto more throughout the day, let alone liked to see him.

the evening, however, that advantage was Christmas Eve, the entire group decided to go out to dinner and then go for a drink in a warm place, like another excuse for those who had not forget to have a family or a family who had it but preferred not to spend the holidays.

During a modest drinking contest Lightning was the first to succumb, gradually followed by others. Eventually the three to stand were Giotto, G. Daemon and, although it was pretty evident the close rendering of Giotto.



Shortly before midnight Boss blond took leave rather unnerved by the behavior of Daemon, even annoyed by his look that he did not hesitate to fall upon him.

The Guardian of the Mist had done the same for some time following a certain distance from each other that swayed slightly, while holding on to time for close to a wall of a house or relying on the first obstacle that presented itself.

In a sense, saw him walking by himself, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to warm up in the coat was a vision that would never have expected to see, especially because he was accustomed to seeing Giotto surrounded by people, sure himself, as if illuminated by a light that he issued.



But there it is: just a drunk walking in the dark.



It was a lifestyle that suited Daemon thought, increasing the pace of steps to approach faster to Giotto, the exact moment when she saw him slip to the ground, scraping her hands what happens to children when he was still unsure of their steps or inattentive ... lose balance and fall.

"Giotto," So he went, Giotto when he recognized the voice tried in every way to rise to his feet, ignoring the hand that had offered Daemon.



The snow began to fall gentle, whitening the landscape around it.

An old bell tolls midnight, the chimes echoed in absolute silence ...

The snow was red.

there were red stains on the snow.

Those spots were blood red.

The blood came from the body of Giotto.



Daemon's hands instinctively went to unbutton the coat of blonde at the moment acted without even thinking about releasing it from the casing and identifying with his eyes the wound that had grazed on the morning ... only now it was open and bleeding.

"... You! You're really stupid and will die a fool! "He could not think of anything but that, I screamed in my face the other trying to hide the shaking - shaking choking - behind the clouds condensed air that were created with every breath because of the cold.

it meant absolutely no first aid was limited then to improvise a bandage by tearing a flap of his shirt in the vacant look of a silent sufferer and Giotto.

"A hospital ..." he murmured to himself, grabbing their arms between the body of the smaller, but Giotto's arm shook with bullying the other, shaking his head.

"I want to stay here. I want to see snow. "Muttered breathing lie down but pointing to a relaxed smile, as if this was enough to calm Daemon.

thoughts crowd the mind is like a swollen river threatened to turn into sharp words, transform the hatred she felt for him into something else seemed to be impossible, but it's in that state made her feel something very close to the fear or concern.

He received his request to build better self, as the snow continued to fall slowly, partially covering the shoulders of a pure white coat as Daemon. He wondered if that was the plan from the beginning of Giotto: A day like any other die alone, far from all, he wondered why a person like Giotto certainly not loved by all but a person worthy of respect had so decided to put an end.

«Ventun grammi. Lo sai cos'è Giotto? Il peso corporeo che perde una persona alla morte ... la vita umana, l'anima ha davvero così poco valore? Dai davvero così poco valore alla tua vita?» Domandò il moro dopo alcuni minuti in completo silenzio, obbligando l’altro ad incontrare il suo sguardo.

«Non sono forte come te.» La sua voce suonò fievole, la sua mano stringeva con più forza il braccio dell’altro come se gli stesse cercando di dire “Non lasciarmi.”

«La storia dei ventun grammi … really believe? "He asked after a while ', turning our gaze a bit' empty response to Daemon that watched him, his face pale, dark circles that stressed, his eyes slightly narrowed.

"Let's say that is scientifically proven ... but in the end we give a value to our lives ... I think. He seemed uncertain, it actually was.



How much is the life of a liar then?



now had both lost track of time. Giotto stood in silence, with an eye toward the other, toward the snow continued to fall.

"Giotto withdrawn while you're on time." Daemon muttered. Giotto was not looking, he had just uttered those words without thinking. He had bet the look on his face, smiling slightly.

"If I do ... you take away my soul?" That question had surprised, shaking inside.



Why could always take him off guard?

Why did continue to have second thoughts?



Giotto's body was so cold, his face so pale and gaunt, his hands shook so small even his arm. The only defense that he knew was his best form, the smile of derision.



wanted to hold his hand, wished to see him fall.

wanted to stay at his side but he also wanted to betray him.

wanted to hate him but he could not help but hide his feelings, because love was much stronger than hate.



"You're really more ... stupid than I thought. "At the edge of exasperation Daemon had stood up, bringing with it Giotto, still clasped in his arms.

His eyes sported perseverance despite Giotto continued to look at him with a smile on his lips, because God hated him!

He had always thought that Giotto was a weak, but now showed himself to be. Would not it have come out to follow him, he should not have curargli that wound ... in doing so did nothing but increase his problems.

"Yeah. Tell me about it often. Even though I'm stupid, I have a kiss? " A request

nothing short of remarkable.

Daemon slammed a few times the eyelids, leading to the questioning look Giotto, he looked at him with an expression of quiet without saying a word.

"What is it? Today you do not go well and now you ask me? "In his words had marked quite well the irony that it reserved the right never to hide, but at the same time his eyes were on the lips of the other, in a curved smile.

"I'm drunk, Daemon."

The dark was for some second displaced by that statement, usually a drunk person really does not admit it to be ... or maybe it was not always like this?

"What's bothering you so much, Giotto?" He asked leaning on the face of the other, striving to maintain the balance to drop it, Giotto returned the look by placing the lips on those of ' Another boy, a silent request for abandonment.



The Boss of the Vongola in his presence brought out the worst of themselves, suddenly becoming capricious and perhaps too fickle, just as it did at that time. When he felt the language of the blonde ask for access to his mouth, pulled back his face - he had to admit, he did a little 'reluctantly - and looked cool to the Boss.

"I do not want your dirty soul." He murmured, his voice trembling slightly, his eyes half-closed. Giotto reached out, leaving the other arm after a long time and causing discomfort when the hand touched his cheek.

'Daemon I killed people, no matter that it was by mistake or on purpose ... my soul is already dirty. "



How can invoke the soul of a murderess?



Nell'ovvietà of his answer, almost cold, Daemon was a little 'crowded out taking a walk.

Finding the answer to be given to that phrase at the end was not real easy to find that Giotto knew better than to cheat a bit intimidated him 'to be honest: he was always cold and calculating personality the group - certainly hid it well behind the smiles of circumstance, but it was.

"not too attached to those who do not really deserve, so do not attack me too." It sounded like a way to tell him that from day to day, perhaps that very evening, he might betray him? I honestly do not care much, Daemon was not the kind of person that was tied to what's happening around feeling remorse or regret ... he was always thinking and constantly to the future, would continue to do so until the end.



"Now I have to wonder .. What is bothering you that much, Daemon? "



Answering that question would not bring anything good, so as to pretend that nothing ever could have led to something, the game was brought forward and could not give in now because of their weaknesses.

"Nothing." He lied, smiling, "I just want to bring warm, medicated wounds well and ensure that you resume quickly." He added increasing the pace and suddenly turning his gaze to the landscape as wanting to hide his expression full of disgust toward the other - or rather, disgust at himself.



hope that the snow would clear all the lies told that night were in vain, but wanted to have the least attachment to something ... again.



"Givre Eternal Friendship" For some reason every time I read the words etched into the watch pocket a symbol of his loyalty and friendship to Giotto, he felt the weight of your soul to raise a gram more ... I wonder why?



The soul of a traitor weighed much more twenty-one grams, he was sure.

Following this, the OST of fanfic, the music that inspired me a lot D:

01 - "I Can not Decide" There For Tomorrow
02 - "If It Means A lot To You "Homesick
03 -" Alone in this bed "Framing Hanley
04 -" imprisonment "Anberlin
05 -" I Hate You "Sick Puppies
06 -" Promise Me Dead by April
07 - "History" Funeral
for a Friend 08 - "Locking up the sun to" Poets of the Fall
09 - "Evil Angel" Breaking Benjamin
10 - "Darkness Eyes DBSK
11 -" Kimi wa Boku ni Niteiru "See Saw
12 -" Snowfield "CLANNAD OST

Finally, the initial quote and the title is taken from the beautiful movie" 21 Grams "