[The words fall out of his mouth, a numb and thoughtless echo, before he has a chance to catch himself.]
[Sheila E once said that Giorno was like a mirror. That whatever you saw in him was just a reflection of yourself. In this moment, when his head jerks up, surprised by the question, and inadvertently catches Giorno's gaze, he sees someone both certain in his decision but worried how it might play out. The roots of Giorno's feet twist together, a knot that unties itself before it draws up too tight. There's something like a smile around the corners of his mouth, although it's slipped away in the face of what he has asked.
To answer this is to be seen. To be known. To be understood, in a way that he can't take back. Any ugliness that he has managed to bury and hide from Giorno up to this point will be unearthed and brought into the light.]
[Fugo takes a breath. He holds it in his chest until it burns, then exhales. He is very pale and his pupils are wide, making his eyes seem darker than they actually are. But, when he speaks, his voice low and only a little shaky, he doesn't look away from Giorno's face.]
That morning, I expected to die. Instead, you offered me another chance and a place at your side. All I had to do was walk forward a single step and take your hand.
But I couldn't. Even though you were so close, I couldn't reach you. I just couldn't picture myself as a part of your Passione. It felt too late. That I was no good. That everything worthwhile about me was all used up a long time ago and poison was the only thing left.
Even so, you... [Here, he needs to swallow and take another breath. It hurts. All of this, it's so ugly. It's so selfish, so unfair, when he was the one to survive and so many of the others didn't. But Giorno wants to know. He wants to understand.] You saw all of that in me. And you stepped halfway to me any-- [He hesitates, catching himself, before haltingly rephrasing.] Because I couldn't move forward.
I don't... know how to describe how that felt.
[In that moment, everything he thought he knew and understood shattered and fell to pieces. It was a relief. It was devastating. The light Giorno gave him, after living in the dark for so long, was blinding. The only option was to move forward, one miserable step at a time. But not alone, anymore. Not alone, ever again.]
no subject
[The words fall out of his mouth, a numb and thoughtless echo, before he has a chance to catch himself.]
[Sheila E once said that Giorno was like a mirror. That whatever you saw in him was just a reflection of yourself. In this moment, when his head jerks up, surprised by the question, and inadvertently catches Giorno's gaze, he sees someone both certain in his decision but worried how it might play out. The roots of Giorno's feet twist together, a knot that unties itself before it draws up too tight. There's something like a smile around the corners of his mouth, although it's slipped away in the face of what he has asked.
To answer this is to be seen. To be known. To be understood, in a way that he can't take back. Any ugliness that he has managed to bury and hide from Giorno up to this point will be unearthed and brought into the light.]
[Fugo takes a breath. He holds it in his chest until it burns, then exhales. He is very pale and his pupils are wide, making his eyes seem darker than they actually are. But, when he speaks, his voice low and only a little shaky, he doesn't look away from Giorno's face.]
That morning, I expected to die. Instead, you offered me another chance and a place at your side. All I had to do was walk forward a single step and take your hand.
But I couldn't. Even though you were so close, I couldn't reach you. I just couldn't picture myself as a part of your Passione. It felt too late. That I was no good. That everything worthwhile about me was all used up a long time ago and poison was the only thing left.
Even so, you... [Here, he needs to swallow and take another breath. It hurts. All of this, it's so ugly. It's so selfish, so unfair, when he was the one to survive and so many of the others didn't. But Giorno wants to know. He wants to understand.] You saw all of that in me. And you stepped halfway to me any-- [He hesitates, catching himself, before haltingly rephrasing.] Because I couldn't move forward.
I don't... know how to describe how that felt.
[In that moment, everything he thought he knew and understood shattered and fell to pieces. It was a relief. It was devastating. The light Giorno gave him, after living in the dark for so long, was blinding. The only option was to move forward, one miserable step at a time. But not alone, anymore. Not alone, ever again.]