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Jojo kneels on polished wooden floor, scrambling to pick up shards of porcelain before anyone else comes into the dimly lit room. It was an accident, he hadn't meant to, he'd tripped and it'd just happened. A plate from the bone china tea set, a gift from his mother's parents, now lay on the floor of the dimly lit room in pieces. Father was going to be furious and Dio'd get that satisfied smirk while he was being reprimanded. It's difficult to see, but he can't risk turning lights on and drawing attention to his mistake.
Reaching out, he grasps for another shard, and curses as he feels a rather large piece dig into his hand, flinching as the metallic scent of blood hits his nose. Uttering a string of curses, he draws his hand in, dropping the other shards to cradle it close to his chest. He's so caught up, he doesn't hear the footsteps approach the doorway behind him, doesn't realise anyone else is there till a shadow fills the doorway and a melodic voice rings out into the room
"Are you swearing, Jojo? You only do that if you're Really in trouble."
Jojo freezes, pressing his lips shut and hoping Dio will leave him alone,
"...So... what have you done this time?" Dio asks, his smug mood unaffected by Jojo's silence. His shadow shifts as he crosses the room, leaning over Jojo's shoulder to see what his body was blocking. The blonde boy let's out a theatrical gasp
"Father's china set? Ohhhh Jojo-" he can hear the predatory grin on the other boy's face, "-Father is going to be So upset when he sees this, I can see his face already."
There's a pause, as if this is a play and it's Jonathan's queue, but he ignores it. He feels over exposed, yet he knows he's barely listening. Father's going to be so angry. His hand hurts. He can feel the hot blood dripping through his fingers now. Behind him, a little to the left, he feels a foot lightly tap the floor
"I'm not going away just because you're trying to ignore me." His voice is harder now, patience growing thin.
"Jojo!" The voice is sharp, right in his ear and Jojo jumps away, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights, before squeezing shut, waiting for more mockery, or for Dio to get their Father and show him the damage.
"Don't tell father"
His voice comes out quieter, weaker than he means to. He waits... but nothing happens. What is Dio doing? Glancing up, Dio's eyes are fixed on his hands, the blood starting to stain his clothes. Brown eyes, but in certain lights, Jojo would swear they were a bright gold, like an eagle or a wolf, watching him.
Then Dio suddenly stalks out the room Jojo watching him, then staring at the doorway long after he disappears from view. The minute that passes feels like an hour, then Dio reappears. Not with their Father like Jojo'd expected, but instead with a dustpan and brush, disinfectant, a handkerchief and some bandages. Slowly, like he's trying not to startle Jojo, he sets the disinfectant and bandages onto the table in the centre of the room, and crouches down next to Jojo. He then sweeps up the discarded shards and sets the dustpan aside.
Grabbing the bottle, handkerchief, and bandages, he sits in front of Jojo and patiently holds his hand out. Jojo still doesn't move, watching him carefully
"Well?"
Sighing when Jojo doesn't move again, he reaches out and grabs Jojo's injured hand, a soft whimper coming from the other boy as he does.
With surprising gentleness, he wipes the blood from Jojo's hand, then starts disinfecting it, softly apologising when the other boy hisses. After bandaging the boy's hand, he hands him the handkerchief so he can clean up his other hand, before swiftly standing up, sweeping up the dustpan as he goes. While he leaves the room, Jojos hears a barely audible "Father doesn't have to know" before Dio leaves the room without a second glance. Jojo, still in shock, stares at his bandaged hand. Maybe Dio's isn't as bad as he thought, maybe deep down, he cares.