[He's still angry, and Trish...doesn't understand why.
She can't think of any part of what she did nor what she said being disagreeable or reprehensible in any way. She wasn't expecting his mood to instantly improve, but neither did she anticipate the tension to remain palpable enough to wade through.
He's angry, and she can't fathom what he expected from her when he sought her gaze and said what he had so casually. The weight behind it was staggering. It's so much responsibility for one person. How it made her feel was reasonable then, wasn't it? She told herself she would never be like these boys, until her Stand proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted to be like them. Indeed, in most ways she does...but not all.
And now he's convinced she reacted poorly to him.
Trish wants to spit venom back when he turns her own words against her in such a barbed way, but she holds back as much of the bile rising in her throat as she can, pinching her tongue between her teeth. It was never her goal to make him angry, and she chants that reminder to herself.
That being said, she doesn't succeed entirely in masking her own irritation, her tail sweeping quick arcs across her comforter as she leans forward, lips set in a thin pink line.]
Listen to me. I told you it's got nothing to do with you and I stand by that.
[That's the mostly-truth she can cling to. Giorno didn't upset her, not intentionally. Not Giorno as she sees him. Giorno feels rebuffed, which is emphatically not what she wanted, even if she didn't like this pretty words.
She roots around in what they've talked about for something, anything to approach constructively, and decides:]
My single problem with what you said is...I don't want you to worry for me. That's not the impression I wanted to give you at all.
[That's good. That's exactly how it should be.]
You can disagree with my thoughts all you want, but don't patronize me. I wouldn't have an opinion at all if I was happily ignorant to the situation.
no subject
She can't think of any part of what she did nor what she said being disagreeable or reprehensible in any way. She wasn't expecting his mood to instantly improve, but neither did she anticipate the tension to remain palpable enough to wade through.
He's angry, and she can't fathom what he expected from her when he sought her gaze and said what he had so casually. The weight behind it was staggering. It's so much responsibility for one person. How it made her feel was reasonable then, wasn't it? She told herself she would never be like these boys, until her Stand proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted to be like them. Indeed, in most ways she does...but not all.
And now he's convinced she reacted poorly to him.
Trish wants to spit venom back when he turns her own words against her in such a barbed way, but she holds back as much of the bile rising in her throat as she can, pinching her tongue between her teeth. It was never her goal to make him angry, and she chants that reminder to herself.
That being said, she doesn't succeed entirely in masking her own irritation, her tail sweeping quick arcs across her comforter as she leans forward, lips set in a thin pink line.]
Listen to me. I told you it's got nothing to do with you and I stand by that.
[That's the mostly-truth she can cling to. Giorno didn't upset her, not intentionally. Not Giorno as she sees him. Giorno feels rebuffed, which is emphatically not what she wanted, even if she didn't like this pretty words.
She roots around in what they've talked about for something, anything to approach constructively, and decides:]
My single problem with what you said is...I don't want you to worry for me. That's not the impression I wanted to give you at all.
[That's good. That's exactly how it should be.]
You can disagree with my thoughts all you want, but don't patronize me. I wouldn't have an opinion at all if I was happily ignorant to the situation.