[When she looks at Giorno, she sees the garden under the shade of night. A warm, bright place settling into a cool dark.
She sees the tremor of his hands, the tightness of his expression, and her molars sink into the inside of her cheek, worrying the pink flesh. She knows what she's said, she remembers how he hates to repeat himself, and likely...hearing things repeated to him. Her breathing is shallow, slow, the whole time she watches Giorno sit there, quiet but tense. The atmosphere is oppressive, suddenly, and she watches him – watches, watches. Her tail sweeps close to her body unconsciously, even though shrinking back seems to be what pissed him off to begin with.
What...did he want her to say?
That gentle touch, that bid to catch her eyes and to declare that he would stand vigil and it's good that she can look away from the ichor that tinges the world black. She knows he talked about making their time in this world as comfortable as possible, petitioning any help she could give him in attaining that goal. What use is she in helping if she's allowed to ignore why this world is so miserable in the first place? What doe she want from her, really?
But more than that...he's driven by a purpose she can't understand. It's something that defines him. It's something that informs his every move. The person who looked into her eyes and spoke so gently is the Giorno Giovanna he wanted her to see. The boy who would make the world shine like gold.
She loves this boy. She loves the boys with everything she has.
[Narancia, wearing Giorno's face, declared with every ounce of his soul that he would protect her until the very end. In the instant after, he was dead.]
[Doppio insists that her father has been broken by what Giorno's Stand did, as if Giorno is someone cruel. But if he felt that was his duty, then maybe...]
When Giorno looks her way again, she feels her heart beating rhythms against her rib cage. She doesn't...want to fight him again. She doesn't. She can't be any good to him if he shuts her out. She needs to...
Trish reaches up to brush aside one of her mottled bangs. Maybe she's earning her spots.]
I know you haven't forgotten. I only said that because I...need to hear it sometimes. That you're taking care of someone I care about very much. But I also know you hate to repeat yourself, so I won't ask that of you.
As for how I reacted, it has nothing to do with you. What you said just made me remember all over again just how much there is to worry about.
[Which...isn't a lie, considering the circumstances. She worries about herself, she worries about them. She worries, regardless of what grand declarations he makes.
Still, she's able to sit up straighter when a whole truth leaves her lips.]
[roblox voice] oof
She sees the tremor of his hands, the tightness of his expression, and her molars sink into the inside of her cheek, worrying the pink flesh. She knows what she's said, she remembers how he hates to repeat himself, and likely...hearing things repeated to him. Her breathing is shallow, slow, the whole time she watches Giorno sit there, quiet but tense. The atmosphere is oppressive, suddenly, and she watches him – watches, watches. Her tail sweeps close to her body unconsciously, even though shrinking back seems to be what pissed him off to begin with.
What...did he want her to say?
That gentle touch, that bid to catch her eyes and to declare that he would stand vigil and it's good that she can look away from the ichor that tinges the world black. She knows he talked about making their time in this world as comfortable as possible, petitioning any help she could give him in attaining that goal. What use is she in helping if she's allowed to ignore why this world is so miserable in the first place? What doe she want from her, really?
But more than that...he's driven by a purpose she can't understand. It's something that defines him. It's something that informs his every move. The person who looked into her eyes and spoke so gently is the Giorno Giovanna he wanted her to see. The boy who would make the world shine like gold.
She loves this boy. She loves the boys with everything she has.
[Narancia, wearing Giorno's face, declared with every ounce of his soul that he would protect her until the very end. In the instant after, he was dead.]
[Doppio insists that her father has been broken by what Giorno's Stand did, as if Giorno is someone cruel. But if he felt that was his duty, then maybe...]
When Giorno looks her way again, she feels her heart beating rhythms against her rib cage. She doesn't...want to fight him again. She doesn't. She can't be any good to him if he shuts her out. She needs to...
Trish reaches up to brush aside one of her mottled bangs. Maybe she's earning her spots.]
I know you haven't forgotten. I only said that because I...need to hear it sometimes. That you're taking care of someone I care about very much. But I also know you hate to repeat yourself, so I won't ask that of you.
As for how I reacted, it has nothing to do with you. What you said just made me remember all over again just how much there is to worry about.
[Which...isn't a lie, considering the circumstances. She worries about herself, she worries about them. She worries, regardless of what grand declarations he makes.
Still, she's able to sit up straighter when a whole truth leaves her lips.]
I'm grateful to you, Giorno. I always will be.