[It's the simplest things that make Giorno happy, sometimes--when it's not regional domination, absurd wealth, or Armani suits, anyway. A full stomach, a note of praise, or a gentle reminder like this that what he is is perfectly sufficient to at least one person. He beams at Stiles now, bright as the rising sun, because--]
You're sweet.
[Always. Clever, with a good attention to detail, but the way Stiles uses the information he gathers isn't usually the way Giorno would; it's a salve rather than a dagger. He always makes a point to let Giorno know, whenever he can, that he likes Giorno exactly as he is.]
[Yes. Sweet. There's no better word for it, in Giorno's opinion.]
[He pats the hay next to him.]
Come sit with me. I'm lonely over here.
[He still hasn't commented on the fucking crown . . .]
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stiles ★ 11/20
from start ★
[It's the simplest things that make Giorno happy, sometimes--when it's not regional domination, absurd wealth, or Armani suits, anyway. A full stomach, a note of praise, or a gentle reminder like this that what he is is perfectly sufficient to at least one person. He beams at Stiles now, bright as the rising sun, because--]
You're sweet.
[Always. Clever, with a good attention to detail, but the way Stiles uses the information he gathers isn't usually the way Giorno would; it's a salve rather than a dagger. He always makes a point to let Giorno know, whenever he can, that he likes Giorno exactly as he is.]
[Yes. Sweet. There's no better word for it, in Giorno's opinion.]
[He pats the hay next to him.]
Come sit with me. I'm lonely over here.
[He still hasn't commented on the fucking crown . . .]