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Vittorino lifted and crossed his legs onto the cold porcelain wall he sat on, watching carefully as Dante’s fingers dug into the peel of an orange. It came apart messily, the other man’s nails poking the sections and staining themselves with juice. He separated the rind into uneven pieces before chucking them behind him into the grass on the other side for ants to reach.
He held his hands out, holding a broken, nearly ripped apart orange and waiting for Vittorino to grab it.
“I could‘ve peeled that myself,” he chuckled. “And done a better job.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dante replied, brushing off his criticism before grabbing one of the smaller segments and popping it into his mouth.
Vittorino took one into his fingers as well, taking a bite out of it and chewing it fully, letting it go down his throat before taking another. The way he ate oranges was always weird; people stared at him every time he had one in public. Although Dante loved the way he accepted the fact not everyone would like him — for whatever reason it may have been.
He stared at him for a while before getting his shoulder tapped and being handed half a piece of the fruit they shared.
“You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
He took the offering from the other, sighing as he swallowed it down and tensing up when Vittorino laid his head on his shoulder before quickly taking it off.
“Sorry– was that weird?”
“No, no, I… didn’t mind,” he assured.
He placed it back, closing his eyes with a smile as Dante fidgeted with the last piece he had left of the peel he’d mostly discarded, looking around nervously to see if anyone was giving the two weird looks.
——————
The priest took a deep breath, looking at the gravestone next to him and placing a segment of the orange in his hands onto the tattered ground in front of it. He took a bite of a different one, trying to brush away the memories that came flooding back of him and Dante in the basilica’s garden, picking fruits from the trees around to share them between eachother.
He was choked up. Granted, not a lot, but it felt like there was a void in his chest that only the other man’s presence could fill. A sigh left his lips as he placed the rest of the orange next to Dante’s grave, unable to finish it, and getting up to leave the area. He looked at the gift he’d left as he walked up the stairs, trying to keep any tears forming at bay.