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[figlia_morbida]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, TRISH UNA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 867.53.099.99 *** Zigazigah has joined 867.53.099.99 <Zigazigah> Don't talk to me. <Zigazigah> Thanks.

Main Username: < Zigazigah >

Public Appearance UN: < Western_Horizon >

Anon: < sharpdistance > , < kidcharlemagne > (not actually anon now because of Hinata)

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[digiorno]

[He doesn't resist.]

[She's warm. She reaches out and grabs him, and her paw is massive and warm and impossible to argue with. He would have to put effort into pulling away, and he doesn't have the energy for it; or at least he can convince himself he doesn't. It's good enough. He lets her pull him in close, and when he's been pulled in all the way—]

[He doesn't stop shaking. Not right away, anyway. But it begins to subside after a few seconds, his tremors getting less and less violent as her body heat sinks into his bones. The fur helps, too, like a big pink blanket insulating him from the cold his body seems desperate to take in.]

[Even as he stays like this, as he hunches his body smaller so he can maintain as much physical contact with her as possible, he doesn't look at her. His head hangs, gaze distant; his breathing is shallow, catching at the edges of each inhale almost like his body wants him to cry. There's a lump in the back of his throat that does feel like tears, although they don't want to fall. Nothing about what his body is feeling right now seems to want to resolve. He's on the precipice of death and life and fear and pain and tears, too, and he just wants some of it, any of it, to stop.]

[But at least she can hold him in one place. At least, if he looks at nothing but the brightness of her fur and tries to feel nothing but the solidity of her form, he can stay with her, stay anchored, stay — mostly — safe.]

[figlia_morbida]

[It's times like this Trish doesn't know what to do and it would be galling it if it didn't carve out a deep hollow in her chest. When someone's body has betrayed them and left their control entirely, and she can only act as some sort of ground, gripping their hand with both of hers, or holding them close.

She doesn't like to be touched, but that doesn't mean there isn't a corollary to each instance.

She doesn't like to be touched because it often meant her boundaries weren't being respected. But if she invites it...that's different. Awkward, still, but the more Giorno nestles into her fur and his shivering improves, she relaxes. Not much, because his breathing is ragged and that makes her nervous heart flutter, but there's nothing to be done for it when his lungs gasp for air they don't need, when his body is caught in a tumultuous response to the fact he's dead and yet conscious for it.

She told him she couldn't help him, and she supposes she was right.

But she can keep him close, drape him in warm pink fur on all sides, and wait. He won't be okay, but she can keep him here and present until he catches up with himself. She wants to do more, but if she can't do more to soothe him, then she wants being close to be enough.

And if she has to stay like this for hours? She will.]