[Friendship. He remembers, suddenly, the shape of Giorno's hand held out to him: palm facing up, fingers loose and relax. Not to kiss his rings, to swear an oath of loyalty, but for him to take and to hold; to pull him up from his seat in the dark, into the warmth of the sun pouring from the window behind them.
Will you lend me your talents again? I have a dream. And I need friends to help me with that dream.]
[Back then... in that moment, he couldn't take Giorno's hand; even though Giorno was a single step away, he couldn't cross that distance. But Giorno didn't leave him. Half of a step. Even now, that promise rings in his ears: If you can't take a step forward, then I'll step halfway to you. It was up to him to make the decision to move forward, but Giorno was there to catch him when he lurched half a step into the future he still can't bring himself to believe he deserves. Beyond bringing him back into Passione, Giorno wanted to accept Fugo as his friend.]
... yeah. [His posture doesn't relax. Not by far. But it loosens, just a little. He unfolds, at least long enough to open the door to his room; enough to let Giorno get a glimpse at his expression. Rather than angry or sad, he just seems tired.] I suppose you're right about that.
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Will you lend me your talents again? I have a dream. And I need friends to help me with that dream.]
[Back then... in that moment, he couldn't take Giorno's hand; even though Giorno was a single step away, he couldn't cross that distance. But Giorno didn't leave him. Half of a step. Even now, that promise rings in his ears: If you can't take a step forward, then I'll step halfway to you. It was up to him to make the decision to move forward, but Giorno was there to catch him when he lurched half a step into the future he still can't bring himself to believe he deserves. Beyond bringing him back into Passione, Giorno wanted to accept Fugo as his friend.]
... yeah. [His posture doesn't relax. Not by far. But it loosens, just a little. He unfolds, at least long enough to open the door to his room; enough to let Giorno get a glimpse at his expression. Rather than angry or sad, he just seems tired.] I suppose you're right about that.