[He doesn't answer. Just hangs up, breathes out, and gets ready.]
[As usual, he thought ahead, even in crisis. He chose half an hour for a specific reason, because there are three things he needs to do before he meets Jotaro on the beach.]
[The first one is the easiest: he goes into the bathroom and packs two things into a small cloth bag. One is a button, small and square and green, one of the many he keeps in his pockets just in case he has to make something and there's nothing convenient to hand. The other, which takes a little more thought, is a light blue washcloth, slightly frayed at the edges. Another just in case.]
[The second one is easy, too. Once he's back in his room, it's a matter of a few minutes to unpin his bangs, take out the braid, run his fingers through his hair until what's left is a messy halo. He'll go back to normal tomorrow, but this one time, this one night, he wants to be wild and angry - to allow himself that, because if he battens it down any more it'll just fester. So for now, for this, he creates a new ritual, lets himself be less than perfect, and studies himself in the mirror for a moment in the dark. What he sees doesn't entirely satisfy him, but he turns to go anyway.]
[The third one . . .]
[The third one is pushing Mista's door open with his hip, as silent as if he's floating, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a tight frown; listening to his breathing, watching his slight movements in his sleep. It would be so easy to take advantage of him, and maybe he has been, maybe a little bit. Everything else has been cresting over him in a never-ending wave, and through it all, as always, Mista's been there, always just there, trusting him without fail, believing in his ability to pull through no matter what. There are negatives to that kind of loyalty, plenty of them, but he doesn't--]
[Unconditional loyalty, unconditional love, those are new to him. So he has to do better here, too. Make Mista's life as good as it can be, because even though he would be happy with very little, he deserves everything.]
[He'll start tomorrow. For now, he doesn't leave a note, just vanishes into the night. By the time he gets to the beach, his hair is wind-whipped and Gold Experience is trailing at his heels, close enough to kick them, but he doesn't, because for all that Giorno is deliberately choosing not to be perfect right now, there's still a predatory elegance to him that never dies.]
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[As usual, he thought ahead, even in crisis. He chose half an hour for a specific reason, because there are three things he needs to do before he meets Jotaro on the beach.]
[The first one is the easiest: he goes into the bathroom and packs two things into a small cloth bag. One is a button, small and square and green, one of the many he keeps in his pockets just in case he has to make something and there's nothing convenient to hand. The other, which takes a little more thought, is a light blue washcloth, slightly frayed at the edges. Another just in case.]
[The second one is easy, too. Once he's back in his room, it's a matter of a few minutes to unpin his bangs, take out the braid, run his fingers through his hair until what's left is a messy halo. He'll go back to normal tomorrow, but this one time, this one night, he wants to be wild and angry - to allow himself that, because if he battens it down any more it'll just fester. So for now, for this, he creates a new ritual, lets himself be less than perfect, and studies himself in the mirror for a moment in the dark. What he sees doesn't entirely satisfy him, but he turns to go anyway.]
[The third one . . .]
[The third one is pushing Mista's door open with his hip, as silent as if he's floating, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a tight frown; listening to his breathing, watching his slight movements in his sleep. It would be so easy to take advantage of him, and maybe he has been, maybe a little bit. Everything else has been cresting over him in a never-ending wave, and through it all, as always, Mista's been there, always just there, trusting him without fail, believing in his ability to pull through no matter what. There are negatives to that kind of loyalty, plenty of them, but he doesn't--]
[Unconditional loyalty, unconditional love, those are new to him. So he has to do better here, too. Make Mista's life as good as it can be, because even though he would be happy with very little, he deserves everything.]
[He'll start tomorrow. For now, he doesn't leave a note, just vanishes into the night. By the time he gets to the beach, his hair is wind-whipped and Gold Experience is trailing at his heels, close enough to kick them, but he doesn't, because for all that Giorno is deliberately choosing not to be perfect right now, there's still a predatory elegance to him that never dies.]