[The benefit to Steve of Giorno's particular brand of awkwardness is that, at least this time, he doesn't seem to register that his guest is babbling. Rather, he pays careful attention to everything Steve says with the air of someone prepared at any moment to take notes. There's a flicker of embarrassment at the clarification about the time check — was he really that obvious? — but more than anything, his expression just reflects growing clarity.]
[How many pairs of socks has Steve ruined before coming to understand how to track his timing properly? A question to ask later. He absently registers the note about formality, too. That's right, that was a difference in the other place, too: even though Haruno was much more comfortable with people than he is, there was still a gulf in the way they dealt with people. Formality versus familiarity. Steffan just . . . became friends with people sometimes simply by deciding to. That's what he tried with Haruno, and it halfway worked, despite him choosing such a cagey mark.]
[This all reminds him of something. Is it important? . . . Probably. He doesn't want to be misunderstood. It matters, even if he's not certain why yet.]
Thank you. For being thoughtful about all of that, and for explaining. I don't . . . really know of any rules that would be relevant anyway. More than anything, I think . . .
[Hm. He tucks a wisp of hair behind his ear, eyes raising to the ceiling as he thinks.]
Riley told me I can be . . . cryptic. That's the word she used. I didn't know before she told me, but I've tried to be more careful since then. Still, if that happens and you wouldn't mind telling me when it does, I'd appreciate it. It upset her, and I don't want to upset you.
[It's incredibly blunt, almost childlike in the way he expresses how difficult it is for him to talk to people in a neutral way. He wonders how this conversation would have gone if he hadn't spoken to Riley first. It probably wouldn't have gone at all. He's riding a strange wave of serenity, or perhaps simple overstimulation, at the way Riley took the truth of him and held it like any other secret revealed. That makes this so much easier.]
[At least for him. His wide green gaze descends upon Steve again.]
You were kind to me in that other place, and I know it's the same here because of Riley. I can't say for sure, since I don't know much about you, but you seem very . . . normal? I can't think of a better word. But I'd like to know you, if I can find a way to be a little more . . .
[Normal? Comprehensible? Haruno?]
. . . communicative.
[At the very least he's currently leaning heavily on that, even if normal is taking a backseat.]
no subject
[How many pairs of socks has Steve ruined before coming to understand how to track his timing properly? A question to ask later. He absently registers the note about formality, too. That's right, that was a difference in the other place, too: even though Haruno was much more comfortable with people than he is, there was still a gulf in the way they dealt with people. Formality versus familiarity. Steffan just . . . became friends with people sometimes simply by deciding to. That's what he tried with Haruno, and it halfway worked, despite him choosing such a cagey mark.]
[This all reminds him of something. Is it important? . . . Probably. He doesn't want to be misunderstood. It matters, even if he's not certain why yet.]
Thank you. For being thoughtful about all of that, and for explaining. I don't . . . really know of any rules that would be relevant anyway. More than anything, I think . . .
[Hm. He tucks a wisp of hair behind his ear, eyes raising to the ceiling as he thinks.]
Riley told me I can be . . . cryptic. That's the word she used. I didn't know before she told me, but I've tried to be more careful since then. Still, if that happens and you wouldn't mind telling me when it does, I'd appreciate it. It upset her, and I don't want to upset you.
[It's incredibly blunt, almost childlike in the way he expresses how difficult it is for him to talk to people in a neutral way. He wonders how this conversation would have gone if he hadn't spoken to Riley first. It probably wouldn't have gone at all. He's riding a strange wave of serenity, or perhaps simple overstimulation, at the way Riley took the truth of him and held it like any other secret revealed. That makes this so much easier.]
[At least for him. His wide green gaze descends upon Steve again.]
You were kind to me in that other place, and I know it's the same here because of Riley. I can't say for sure, since I don't know much about you, but you seem very . . . normal? I can't think of a better word. But I'd like to know you, if I can find a way to be a little more . . .
[Normal? Comprehensible? Haruno?]
. . . communicative.
[At the very least he's currently leaning heavily on that, even if normal is taking a backseat.]