[Giorno shrugs, acknowledging it's a million miles harder than it sounds. He's earned himself a silver tongue, but with this kind of thing it's useless; he stumbles as much as anyone.]
You ask if he really does feel that way, and if so, why. You find out if there's anything to be done to get close to him again. If there isn't, you heal and move on. I wish there was a kinder answer, but--
[With a pang, he thinks of Mista and his romantic comedies, the fervor in his eyes at each and every happy ending.]
Things don't always work out perfectly, and you're only half of the equation.
I want things to work out perfectly. [The words fly out of his mouth before he can think of just how naive and stupid they sound. Wylan's fully aware that it's nearly impossible for things to be perfect, his own life so far has certainly not been, but he still wishes that for him and Jesper, holds on to an image of a perfect life together, perfect and ridiculous and unrealistic.]
[He can't help the fondness that's crept into his voice. He could help the hand that grips Wylan's shoulder tightly, that pulls him close and holds him a touch awkwardly against his side. But he doesn't try to.]
I know. Trust me, believe me, I do very much understand. I want it for you--I want it for myself, but--
[But Wylan deserves it more, he knows, and so there's no question who he's most hopeful for.]
I want it to be a story for you. A fairytale--something that never doesn't seem a little magical. I think it will be. Don't ever believe that I doubt that. If anyone deserves it, it's you.
[And Wylan could stop himself, but it's all too easy to lean against Giorno's side, accepting the comfort he's offering. He's grateful that Giorno doesn't call him on his dream, doesn't tell him it's naive or stupid. It nearly brings him to tears, and he wipes at his eyes with one sleeve.]
It already feels like a fairytale. [He freezes again. He just can't seem to stop saying stupidly naive things today.] I know that sounds ridiculous, but sometimes I can hardly believe it's real...
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[Giorno shrugs, acknowledging it's a million miles harder than it sounds. He's earned himself a silver tongue, but with this kind of thing it's useless; he stumbles as much as anyone.]
You ask if he really does feel that way, and if so, why. You find out if there's anything to be done to get close to him again. If there isn't, you heal and move on. I wish there was a kinder answer, but--
[With a pang, he thinks of Mista and his romantic comedies, the fervor in his eyes at each and every happy ending.]
Things don't always work out perfectly, and you're only half of the equation.
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[He can't help the fondness that's crept into his voice. He could help the hand that grips Wylan's shoulder tightly, that pulls him close and holds him a touch awkwardly against his side. But he doesn't try to.]
I know. Trust me, believe me, I do very much understand. I want it for you--I want it for myself, but--
[But Wylan deserves it more, he knows, and so there's no question who he's most hopeful for.]
I want it to be a story for you. A fairytale--something that never doesn't seem a little magical. I think it will be. Don't ever believe that I doubt that. If anyone deserves it, it's you.
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It already feels like a fairytale. [He freezes again. He just can't seem to stop saying stupidly naive things today.] I know that sounds ridiculous, but sometimes I can hardly believe it's real...