[One moment he's standing alone, in the middle of a laboratory floor. The next moment he's caught up in a hug, in Carlos's arms, and his heart breaks. Not in a bad way — more in the way that sometimes you have to re-break a bone to set it properly, if it's healed over wrong. It hurts, god, it hurts so much, he can feel the pain lancing through every part of him, but it feels better, too. It feels—]
[It feels honest.]
[It's an awkward hug. It is, he won't lie, but it feels safe, which is the only thing that matters. Carlos is all sharp edges and brittle lines, but he smells like laundry detergent and something chemical, and he's holding on tight like he doesn't want to ever let go. Of him. Carlos, an important and worthy person, doesn't want to let go of him, Giorno, who is just somebody. Not his child, maybe not even his friend. Just some kid who makes him uncomfortable a lot of the time, who doesn't know how to be normal.]
[Giorno's fingers clench in the back of that perfect lab coat. He doesn't mean them to, but they do. And once he's held on tight, he finds he can't let go, either. Can't stop himself from crying, not once his heart has been well and truly broken, even though it will ruin the pristine white front of Carlos's coat to get tears on it. He cries anyway. It's good to be honest, and so he cries honestly, his body racked with shuddering sobs as he holds on (awkwardly, with sharp edges, and forcefully, because he needs to not be alone right now and so does Carlos).]
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[It feels honest.]
[It's an awkward hug. It is, he won't lie, but it feels safe, which is the only thing that matters. Carlos is all sharp edges and brittle lines, but he smells like laundry detergent and something chemical, and he's holding on tight like he doesn't want to ever let go. Of him. Carlos, an important and worthy person, doesn't want to let go of him, Giorno, who is just somebody. Not his child, maybe not even his friend. Just some kid who makes him uncomfortable a lot of the time, who doesn't know how to be normal.]
[Giorno's fingers clench in the back of that perfect lab coat. He doesn't mean them to, but they do. And once he's held on tight, he finds he can't let go, either. Can't stop himself from crying, not once his heart has been well and truly broken, even though it will ruin the pristine white front of Carlos's coat to get tears on it. He cries anyway. It's good to be honest, and so he cries honestly, his body racked with shuddering sobs as he holds on (awkwardly, with sharp edges, and forcefully, because he needs to not be alone right now and so does Carlos).]