[Even though he's not the one being complimented, Fugo's pink all over. He reaches with both hands for Giorno's face, fingers sliding into his hair, his smile wide and wondering.]
Your hair... you usually tie it back. And that looks good too, very dramatic, very bold, completely unforgettable. I usually don't get to see it loose unless you're brushing it. But when it's loose like this, it frames your face and makes your jaw look rounder. Softer. [Fugo could probably run his fingers through Giorno's hair forever. He loves the texture of it, the feeling of all those curls and waves slipping through his fingers. But he pulls them out this time to carefully touch Giorno's face as he continues to speak; his brows and the bridge of his nose, the crest of his cheeks.] You're not wearing any makeup today. I can see your freckles and that, um-- that makes me think of the spring and the summer and wonder if they'll get any darker when we get more sunshine.
[Giorno's makeup routine fascinates him; how he so carefully draws lines around his eyes, darkens his lashes, evens out the tone in his cheeks, brings out the shape of his mouth with bright splashes of color. The result is Giorno, only more intense. Intense and bright and perfect. Again, Fugo's hands drift down; this time, they come to rest on Giorno's shoulders.]
Your shirt... you look very good in colors like this. I think they're... jewel tones? Is that what they're called? This shirt is purple, but it's so bright and I think that makes your eyes look brighter. It makes your everything look brighter. And I get to look at your neck and shoulders and-- [Ah. Here he goes. Fugo's pink briefly flushes darker into red, but he manages to get the word out:] stomach.
[Here is another fact that Fugo can't quite manage to say: because it has such a high waist, Giorno's skirt naturally draws the eye to the gap between the hem of his shirt and the top of his skirt. He can't not look at it.]
You look so comfortable. And happy. You've been smiling a lot today, which is the cutest thing of all.
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[Even though he's not the one being complimented, Fugo's pink all over. He reaches with both hands for Giorno's face, fingers sliding into his hair, his smile wide and wondering.]
Your hair... you usually tie it back. And that looks good too, very dramatic, very bold, completely unforgettable. I usually don't get to see it loose unless you're brushing it. But when it's loose like this, it frames your face and makes your jaw look rounder. Softer. [Fugo could probably run his fingers through Giorno's hair forever. He loves the texture of it, the feeling of all those curls and waves slipping through his fingers. But he pulls them out this time to carefully touch Giorno's face as he continues to speak; his brows and the bridge of his nose, the crest of his cheeks.] You're not wearing any makeup today. I can see your freckles and that, um-- that makes me think of the spring and the summer and wonder if they'll get any darker when we get more sunshine.
[Giorno's makeup routine fascinates him; how he so carefully draws lines around his eyes, darkens his lashes, evens out the tone in his cheeks, brings out the shape of his mouth with bright splashes of color. The result is Giorno, only more intense. Intense and bright and perfect. Again, Fugo's hands drift down; this time, they come to rest on Giorno's shoulders.]
Your shirt... you look very good in colors like this. I think they're... jewel tones? Is that what they're called? This shirt is purple, but it's so bright and I think that makes your eyes look brighter. It makes your everything look brighter. And I get to look at your neck and shoulders and-- [Ah. Here he goes. Fugo's pink briefly flushes darker into red, but he manages to get the word out:] stomach.
[Here is another fact that Fugo can't quite manage to say: because it has such a high waist, Giorno's skirt naturally draws the eye to the gap between the hem of his shirt and the top of his skirt. He can't not look at it.]
You look so comfortable. And happy. You've been smiling a lot today, which is the cutest thing of all.