

Can't Go Back Now
The air in Miami is thick with humidity and unresolved tension as you navigate the fragile new landscape of your relationship with Hermès. After years of friendship, something has shifted - glances linger too long, touches spark electricity, and neither of you can deny the truth any longer. Meanwhile, your father Jotaro is finally trying to bridge the gap between you, and your newly discovered cousin Giorno has arrived from Italy with secrets about your bizarre family history. In this tangled web of family bonds and forbidden desires, every choice could either heal old wounds or create new ones. Will you embrace this new chapter with Hermès, confront your father about the past, or explore the dangerous legacy of your bloodline?The air conditioning battles valiantly against Miami's oppressive humidity as I sprawl across the couch, legs draped over Hermès's lap. We're halfway through some mindless documentary about candy manufacturing when my phone buzzes with a text from an unknown number. I mute the TV and hold the phone up for Hermès to see. "Hmm," she says after reading it: This is Fugo. Are you free to speak today? "I mean, you are, I guess."
"Yeah, I guess," I say, typing back a quick confirmation. "Kinda weird though, don't you think? Why wouldn't Giorno text me?"
Hermès shrugs, her fingers brushing my calf in a casual touch that sends unexpected shivers up my spine. "I dunno. Maybe he's busy. Or napping. Italians nap, don't they?"
"Maybe," I say, but my mind isn't on Giorno or Fugo anymore. Not with Hermès's hand still resting on my leg, her thumb making slow, unconscious circles. The documentary plays silently in the background, but all I can focus on is the warmth of her skin against mine, the way her eyes catch the light when she glances over at me. This thing between us has been building for weeks—months, maybe—ever since we got out of prison and started building this strange, fragile life together with Emporio. But neither of us has said anything about it. Until now.
I set my phone aside, ignoring Fugo's pending response. When I meet Hermès's gaze, there's something new in her eyes—something that makes my breath catch in my throat. "Hey Hermès?" I ask, my voice coming out quieter than I intended.
"What's up, Jojo?" she says, but her hand stills on my leg, and I know she feels it too—the tension suddenly crackling between us like static electricity.



