[Oh. Whoops? Fugo chuckles and then, because he didn't really mean to tickle Giorno again with his fidgeting, adjusts his arms in a loose embrace around his middle. Best to remove the temptation.]
Well. You are pretty.
[Fugo says it plainly, as if this is just a simple fact--because to him it is. On an every day level, Giorno's very pretty; when he wants to be, he can be devastatingly beautiful. And he's not self-conscious about it either; in fact, most of what he likes to wear (even his most masculine of clothes) draws attention to that. And Fugo mulls over it an honestly embarrassing amount. The only reason he doesn't comment more on Giorno's prettiness is his own self-consciousness.]
It felt sort of like a movie. You know, one of those silly romantic ones. I always thought it was stupid when there were shots highlighting how beautiful the protagonist was and her designated love-interest just stared at her like an idiot. [He sighs, a little pink around the edges.] ... guess I know how that feels now.
no subject
Well. You are pretty.
[Fugo says it plainly, as if this is just a simple fact--because to him it is. On an every day level, Giorno's very pretty; when he wants to be, he can be devastatingly beautiful. And he's not self-conscious about it either; in fact, most of what he likes to wear (even his most masculine of clothes) draws attention to that. And Fugo mulls over it an honestly embarrassing amount. The only reason he doesn't comment more on Giorno's prettiness is his own self-consciousness.]
It felt sort of like a movie. You know, one of those silly romantic ones. I always thought it was stupid when there were shots highlighting how beautiful the protagonist was and her designated love-interest just stared at her like an idiot. [He sighs, a little pink around the edges.] ... guess I know how that feels now.