[Giorno cares about him. It's so obvious now, every day. Sometimes Fugo still wonders how they could both be so unlucky to find themselves in this awful place, but lucky enough to catch each other by the hand. If he were here alone, he knows things would not be the same. He'd be lost in his own quagmire of sadness again, waiting out one gray day after another until his time was up and he stumbled back home again. Giorno doesn't just brighten his days: he brings bursts of color to them. Fugo isn't Mista. He isn't lucky at all. So maybe it was something else, that brought him here to stand at Giorno's side.]
... ... tell me about your silly list. [His fingers twitch in Giorno's shirtfront.] And then-- I'll try to tell you, a little, about what I was dreaming about.
[He doesn't know if talking about it is going to make it better. But ignoring his nightmares, pretending that they aren't happening-- well, he knows that doesn't make them better. The words won't come easily, if they even come at all. But he'd like to try. Because even if he can't get far, it's safe to try when he's with Giorno.]
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... ... tell me about your silly list. [His fingers twitch in Giorno's shirtfront.] And then-- I'll try to tell you, a little, about what I was dreaming about.
[He doesn't know if talking about it is going to make it better. But ignoring his nightmares, pretending that they aren't happening-- well, he knows that doesn't make them better. The words won't come easily, if they even come at all. But he'd like to try. Because even if he can't get far, it's safe to try when he's with Giorno.]