[Giorno takes it. He does so carefully, with the air of someone holding a priceless treasure. The chain drapes over the back of his hand as he cradles the bottle in his palm. He puts it to his ear.]
[He doesn't even get through the first verse before he jerks it away like he's been burned. His hand closes tight around the bottle, his fingers going white. He visualizes a cage of bone. Steel, maybe. Something strong enough to keep this from ever breaking. Why glass of all things--]
no subject
[He doesn't even get through the first verse before he jerks it away like he's been burned. His hand closes tight around the bottle, his fingers going white. He visualizes a cage of bone. Steel, maybe. Something strong enough to keep this from ever breaking. Why glass of all things--]
That's no way to say goodbye to someone.
[He sounds--resigned. Sort of tired, too.]