Firsts!

A Meme of FIRSTS!

You're in right smack in the middle of exciting times, perhaps even the peak of your life so far, and you're not alone. For you and your companion, it's all about firsts: first crush, first love, first fight, first confession, first kiss, first time, first adventure to certain death together - you know, as you do. There is a first time for everything, after all, and they say you never forget your first.

So...first?

WHAT DO?

It's what it says on the tin.
Your character can be at the right place and time for all these firsts, you can age them down, they're starting late, they never had the chance, it's an AU I DON'T EVEN CARE just play.
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Prompts are amalgamations of many, many different memes.

First Kiss: Is there anything sweeter?

First Date: Are you super awkward and nervous or getting on like a house on fire?

First Meeting: Dropped your groceries? Bump into them on the subway? Party? Fender bender? The options are endless!

First Anniversary: You've made it an entire year without killing one another! Time to break open the bubbly.

First Pet: Dog or cat? Fish tank? Rhinoceros?

First House: Apartment in the city, or perfect white picket fenced home! Either way, better make the best of it.

What is this...Love Thing?: I don't understand love. What is love, baby don't hurt me ---

Love at First Sight...or, at least, Interest: Hey little mama, let me holla at you.

Gradual: Your interest in this person is growing after getting to know them.

Excitement and FREAKING OUT: Oh my gosh, there's absolutely nothing you'd rather do than spend time with this person you want everything to be perfect oh gosh oh gosh.

Hormonal: Girls are so weird but they look so nice.

Sloppy Makeouts: Put on "Stairway to Heaven" and go to town.

Arguments: You jerk! Look what you've done! I never want to see you again.

School Romance: Oh, I hope senpai notices me...or the cute class president, or the head of cooking club, or -

You're Like Family to Me: The two of you have been close forever, so you've never seen each other like that...until now.

Unlucky Friend: You lost the person of your dreams to someone else, perhaps because of their allure or perhaps because you never spoke up. What can you do now?

I'll Cheer You On: Always supportive, always by your side, they're the person you can count on. Why do they care so much, though?

Slap-Slap-Kiss: I could kill you for what you just did! I could - I could KISS YOU.

Confession in the Heat of the Moment: You're about to go defeat the ultimate baddie. How about confessing your feelings to the person you love? Seems legit.

Sudden Kiss: Kiss from nowhere! There are lots of reasons for this: to stop someone from crying, to make them be quiet, or just to explain yourself when words can't.

First Time: A little awkward, a little exciting, always memorable. ( Unless you had to get drunk to get up the nerve.)

Hey, Can We Try...: You've been together, or at least doing it, for awhile, but one of you wants to try something new.

Childhood Sweethearts: You've loved them what seems like forever, ever since you were little.

Wedding Night: Have fun, newlyweds! Maybe one of you cut off the sex a couple months ago, just for tonight to be extra special.

With Nature: In a forest or a field, how could you not be happy with the sun or moon shining down and the beauty of nature around you?

Waking Up: Fluffy, sleepy, giggly morning sex.

Protected/Safe: You always feel safe with them. How can you thank them?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ 14 did not go well for him in canon ahaha. ]

[ crossovers are sweet, assumed cr sweeter. cw-compliant, also. ]

[canon and cross canon welcome!]

[ m/m preferred. ]

Edited 2016-05-17 15:30 (UTC)

( no smut! otherwise ota, naturally inclined toward 7. )

( ota! )

[The Romance™ only please!]

[Honestly, the first thought in Trish's head is one of panic. It's not that she thinks she's necessarily made a mistake or that what she's doing is going to be poorly received, it's just that she didn't mean to do it. At no point did the thought cross her mind, I should really kiss him in any of the minutes nor seconds leading up to Trish kissing Giorno.]

[Not to say that it never has. The thought. You know. Of kissing him. Of course it has. She wouldn't be kissing him now if it never crossed her mind. But a thought doesn't have to amount to much of anything beyond a thought. She's dismissed it enough times by now that it's like becoming cognizant that the sky is blue when she does happen to give the thought of kissing him any thought.]

[So not having the thought means exactly what for lead-up? Yeah, that's right. What lead-up? There really wasn't any. They were walking together like they so often do because sometimes if it weren't for Trish, Giorno would never just take a moment to appreciate the outside world without trying to concoct some way he can better it or protect what's already good and doesn't need fixing. What he does is important. There's no mistaking that. But he can't do it all the time. He just can't. Even with as strong and determined as Giorno is, he's not infinite. So, Trish convinces him sometimes, to leave it all behind for a little while, to just appreciate everything that he's working so hard for because he deserves it just as much as anyone else deserves it.]

[And it's a little selfish, too, like this kiss is because that's when she gets Giorno all to herself. She doesn't have to share him or his attention with anyone else. Just for a little while, she can pretend that Giorno's no less important, no less powerful and strong, but that things are simpler than all of that, that neither one of them have had to carry any hurts or losses and have always been whole people. It's easy to do because Giorno always encourages Trish to take what she wants. She doesn't hesitate often — selfish is something she can do really well sometimes — but when she does, he always nudges her with a sly smile, like he's willing to look the other way and pretend like he didn't notice her actually thinking about it before acting.]

[Except that there's no need to pretend this time that he didn't notice her hesitating because there hadn't been any once she started moving for it. He'd been saying something, and Trish honestly hadn't been paying that much attention to what it was. She was just glad to listen to him talk without any formality and all of his warmth, so what he was saying exactly just didn't matter a hell of a lot right then and there.]

[And then it happened. She grabbed the front of his suit, rising up on the balls of her feet, and she kissed him before probably either one of them knew what was happening. (Certainly before she knew it was happening.) And is still kissing him while trying to figure out what's going to come next because kissing someone like Giorno is a stupid and childish thing for her to do. No, that's not quite right. It's not that it's stupid or childish — even if Trish feels that way a little and that's what causes her to flush some — it's just that this could complicate things beyond what either one of them is even remotely prepared to sort out. But it wouldn't really need to meet that threshold for Trish to start kicking herself for doing something like this because she's supposed to simplify things for Giorno when he needs it.]

[But...]

[But the only things in Trish's mind are kids younger and smaller than them running up and demanding to see a stupid, gross trick with Giorno's ear again and again, flowers brightening every room, stifled laughter when Mista realizes someone (read: Trish) has left something in a set of four laying around, and a sly smile that's willing to look the other way.]

[The panic drains its way out of her starting from her head all the way down her toes because she never really thought of it before, but Giorno simplifies things for her, too. He makes things okay no matter what. Just because maybe she jumped the gun a little on kissing Giorno doesn't mean she needs to get ahead of herself with everything else.]

[As Trish pulls away, she settles back down onto her heels, ducking her head a little. As she purses her lips and creates what feels like a mere infinitesimal recreation of their lips together, she wonders if this is the part where she's supposed to say something because, sure. She's not trying to think of the logistics right now, but there's still an after kissing him to contend with. Except it sorta feels like everything's already been said, so saying anything feels a little half-assed and redundant. So, Trish doesn't keep her head down for very long (because she never does) even if it takes her a second to look from the hand still holding onto his suit to his face.]

[And then she has to smile, laughing a little — mostly at herself — while she smooths out the front of his suit with her hand.]

What were you saying?

[Trish is the kind of person who doesn't need praise. At least not anymore: she's self-assured, confident, strong and brave and she knows it, clever and beautiful and unwilling to compromise her principles. She's someone Giorno finds easy to identify with, someone who challenges him, someone who makes him better. Trish is someone who makes everyone around her better, in fact, but without giving a single piece of herself away.]

[Trish doesn't need praise, but Giorno gives it to her anyway. He doesn't need half an excuse to talk someone's ear off about how wonderful she is — hers, sometimes, but often other people's, too, and sometimes it's strategic but sometimes he just feels overflowing with how much he loves her, how beautiful and bright and perfectly imperfect she is, how lucky he is to know her.]

[And it is luck. Mista says he's lucky, but the only times he really feels that way are when he's with the two of them. With Mista he believes he's lucky because it's what Mista believes, and with Trish . . .]

[Who wouldn't feel lucky, being in her presence? Having someone like Trish Una care about you, that's not something you can earn. It's something she chooses, because her life is her own to control now, her own to dictate and direct as she desires.]

[Trish Una desires a lot of things. Giorno Giovanna is not terribly different. But, while he would never begrudge her anything, he holds himself at a certain distance, not just from her but from everyone, because it's possible to ask too much.]

[Anyway, he prefers her to ask first if there's something she wants. She's spent so long being denied, it's a privilege to provide the very few things she can't get for herself.]

[And so one day they're walking, and she kisses him. And he thinks . . .]

[Nothing. He thinks nothing. Which is strange in and of itself; he spends all of his days and nights thinking, his conscious moments and some of his unconscious ones, that having his thoughts just turn off feels like sudden, deafening quiet. The ocean roaring in his ears. Or maybe it's his heartbeat; it's honestly hard to tell.]

[All he is is feeling, frozen but still feeling: the way her body is a little tensed from leaning up towards him, the way he can feel the warmth of her face and the brush of her breath, how she's wrinkled his suit and for once in his life he doesn't care that it's not perfect.]

[Trish is kissing him. She tastes sweet, like fresh fruit, maybe, or maybe it's stupid to make a comparison at all. And he's standing here, frozen, and on some level he's aware that that's incredibly stupid but he also feels prickly from his head to his feet, like every nerve ending is firing at once.]

[There's a moment, finally, when he remembers how to move. When he angles in to start kissing her back. And it's that moment when she pulls away, and he exhales sharply, overwhelmed and devastated.]

What was I . . . ?

[Saying. Was he saying something? His hand gravitates to rest over hers on his chest, a gesture he doesn't think about much because she's smiling. She's smiling, she's laughing, there's her gloss on his lips and heat in his cheeks and he genuinely has no idea if he's ever spoken a word in his life.]

I really can't remember, actually.

[It's a strange thing seeing Giorno right now without anything to really say. Not that he's one of those people who are full of shit and always running their mouths — because he's the farthest thing from that — but he just always seems to know the exactly right thing to say at any given moment. His silences are never indicative of not knowing what exactly to say and he never stumbles around looking for how to say what he means. But right now his cheeks are a little pink and he can barely seem to string together a whole sentence.]

[Trish looks down again because she's smiling even wider at this absurd loss of control Giorno appears to be experiencing, and she doesn't want him to think she's making fun of him. She is a little bit, but she doesn't want to draw too much attention to it. Especially because the tables seem to be quickly turned when he has his hand over hers and she looks up like his touch is somehow electric, like their hands touching has somehow not once ever happened before even though she's honestly lost count of how many times they've held hands at some point or another.]

[It shouldn't feel this strange to just feel like a girl with a boy, particularly a boy that she likes. No. The boy that she like-likes because everything feels so light right now she's not even sure if she's in her body or wouldn't be all that convinced that she was still standing upright if it wasn't for the fact she's not viewing the world, looking at Giorno from some other, wrong angle. But it feels strange to feel like a girl with the boy she like-likes because much in the way she feels almost outside of herself right now, this doesn't seem like an experience that could be part of her life anymore. Or part of his.]

Oh, [she murmurs.] Then . . . ?

[Trish look at Giorno expectantly with a subtle raise of her eyebrows, her head tipping a little to one side and just a small, singular sway with the rest of her body as she shifts her weight because there's a chance she could be close to him again and there's a chance she could pull further away again, too.]

[But there's probably not that much of a chance for the latter.]

[The truth is he's not sure what to do now. Or rather, there are too many options running through his head; he's not sure what to do because he wants everything, and because he thinks, if this follows Trish's usual patterns, she'll want everything, too. But he doesn't know where to start, and he's not sure if she can feel his heart beating but it feels like she should be able to. Her fingers press against his chest like a brand.]

[She smells good. She always smells so good, and he likes that — likes the way her sweetness mingles with his, the way they hide their sharpness underneath it until it's needed. He likes that they're the same that way, even if in other ways they're different. He likes that she understands him.]

[And he loves her, and even though he loves a lot of people, in a way that sometimes feels painful and too-much, he loves her best.]

[Sometimes being around Trish makes him feel his age. There's a strange power in that. He usually feels ageless and superior, powerful and dangerous and sly. She just makes him feel like a boy, and he thinks he's grateful for that, but mostly he feels too silly to put words to it.]

[Carefully, less as though he thinks she's made of glass and more concerned that she might bite him, he lifts his other hand so his fingers can brush over her cheek, over the curve of it to hover at the corner of her mouth. She's so beautiful, but it doesn't occur to him to say so now, because he's said it so many times before, but also because it would feel like flattery here and now, and that's not what he wants.]

[He breathes in carefully, clears his throat.]

You surprised me. I wasn't ready.

[And it's silly, but even as he asks it he's leaning in a little, so focused on her that it feels like the rest of the world's disappeared.]

Would you mind if I tried again?

[Trish has kissed before this. Like a lot of girls, parts of primary school had been spent tackling boys to the ground and pushing past a flurry of hands to land a kiss on a cheek. A lot of the girls that Trish knew failed in their mission. They ended up getting fingers painfully up their noses, poked in the eyes by accident, or just simply thrown off if they took too long trying. But not Trish. When Trish set her eyes on a boy, she kissed him, and he was left rolling around on the ground, screaming in disgust about cooties. She didn't even like all of the boys she kissed either. It was more out of spite or revenge.]

[This held out for a while in lower secondary, there was just more waiting involved. Waiting for when they were alone and it was expected to stay that way for a while. Waiting for when it seemed like the boy was thinking about it because he kept glancing at her lips instead of her eyes when he looked at her. Waiting until she was sure that it was on his mind enough that he'd kiss back no matter what. She still didn't like all of the boys she kissed then either. It was more out of boredom and impatience.]

[But Trish's patience steadily grew and with it came more and more waiting until that's all there was left because Trish didn't want to kiss anymore. She just wanted to be kissed. Even by a boy she didn't like because she thinks even that would be nice, would mean something over not ever being kissed.]

[So.]

[Trish Una has never been kissed. But she wants to be. And she wants to be kissed by Giorno most of all right now. Which it might might seem odd to say, but that wasn't necessarily true until Giorno touched her cheek and asked. She'd always assumed the first time she'd be kissed, it'd be abrupt because the boys around her were becoming men and men take what they want when they want it. In the right context, it might make her feel good, she thinks. She hopes. In the wrong moment, it'd only make her angry and she's long-since held a worry kept quiet by dismissing it as childish to put so much weight into the first time she's kissed. She still worried, however, that maybe the first time she'd be kissed would be awful because it's not the right time or place. She doesn't need to like who kisses her, she just needs to want to be kissed. It's something she would like to think is obvious, but men see what they want when they look at girls and women. Especially when what they want is a girl or a woman.]

[But just because she's surprised, just because she starts holding her breath for a few seconds without meaning to, doesn't mean it's a bad thing. It's just different and hard not to ruin it by kissing him again instead because he asked, because he wants to kiss her, because she wants him to kiss her. Trish steels herself against the impulse as best she can, trying to exude patience and a little more calm than she feels because her stomach's filled to the brim with butterflies at this point.]

I'll let you know after you've tried again.

Ah.

[Ah, he says, and smiles, and it spreads across his face so face and so bright it feels like the sun's come out. It'd be wrong to say he's not nervous anymore, but he feels . . . in good company, maybe. Like this isn't so strange after all, maybe, because she's teasing him just like usual. So it's not the end of the world, it's not everything changing all at once, it's just one thing.]

[One kiss. That's what it should be, right? Especially for people with lives as uncertain as theirs. One day, one moment, one kiss at a time. Don't count on too much. Work to make yourself happy, and those around you. Keep them close and safe and warm, and don't let anything or anyone hurt them, especially not yourself.]

[One kiss. And she'll let him know after he's tried it again, if she minds.]

[She's so, so beautiful right now. He doesn't understand why people don't line up to love her. Maybe they're afraid, and maybe they should be, but to love you must be brave anyway. And he is. He's shockingly, painfully, dangerously brave.]

[And she's worth it. Obviously.]

[His smile fades quickly, but only in strength, not in feeling; it lingers at the corners of his lips, a quiet fondness as he moves a little closer, his gaze raking over her face as his fingers slide to rest at the back of her neck. He wants to feel her breath again. Strange that that's what he focuses on, but . . .]

Thank you, [he murmurs, and kisses her, a kiss that's just like him, gentle but insistent, commanding attention, even as he laces his fingers with hers and murmurs quietly, overwhelmed and uncertain but sure she's telling the truth. She'll say if she wants him to do something different, and he'll do it, because he'd do anything for her.]

[Gentleness is a privilege. It's always a privilege for people like them because the paths they must walk both alone and together are often rough and jagged, and sometimes void of all things gentle and kind. But Giorno is gentle now in the way he kisses her and it strangely feels like her breath's been taken away. Her breath's been taken away and she doesn't mind it and maybe even welcomes it because she could do without it for a little while. In exchange, she gets the feeling of his fingers with hers, his hand at the back of her neck, and his lips over hers, and the smell of him...]

[He smells like flowers. He always does because Giorno projects to the world a softer, effeminate image that's sometimes equal parts a deception and the truth, and flowers are the quickest way to get that message across. But when he's close like this, there's more to the way he smells than just that, things that Trish likes even better. Giorno is also the green of grass intermingling with the barely noticeable scent of the earth it grows from. He's the first and the last rays of golden sunlight on a summer day that hasn't quite realized it's no longer spring.]

[It seems like being able to smell him is the only reason why she's still breathing even when it feels like she's handed it over to him without a fight, so she curls her fingers to keep him close as she gives him the attention he wants in place of no longer breathing. Her other hand moves up to rest fingertips lightly on the line of his jaw and tentatively she opens her eyes just enough to steal a glance at what he looks like while he's kissing her before letting them fall closed again.]

[What he looks like, in that brief moment, is someone falling from a high ledge and trusting that wherever he lands, he'll be perfectly safe. A trusting fool, maybe, but someone without any fear, certainly; he believes, with all of his heart, that nothing bad can happen to him when Trish is close to him, kissing him, because she would fight it off with every ounce of strength in her body.]

[It's difficult, when she's close like this, to remember where he begins and ends. Her fingers brush his jaw, and he can feel the contact prickling up and down his spine; his fingers push up to rake through the hair at the nape of her neck before freezing and moving back down, shy of messing up her hair. Maybe she wouldn't be upset, not now, not like this, but maybe she would, and the last thing he wants in the world is to upset her.]

[Surely she can feel his heart beating by now, he thinks, and pulls half a centimeter away just to breathe, just for a second. It's a second taken up by just looking at her, the bright of her eyes and the softness of her mouth, and then he kisses her again, never possessive because no one owns Trish Una, but insistently loving, lingering on her lower lip and sighing quietly as he pulls (at last, just barely) away.]

. . . Okay?

[Are you okay? Am I okay? Was that okay? He wants to kiss her again already, but he squeezes her hand under his instead, ducking his head a little and looking up at her with curious shyness.]

[Oh, she can feel his heartbeat. She can feel his breath, too, and the soft vibrations of his voice. Everything feels centered around Giorno right now and the rest of the world is just white noise in the background, its only job to be something for Giorno to contrast against. It becomes especially true when he kisses her again, briefer than the last but not lesser than it. And then asks her okay?]

[Trish smiles and looks down with an airy, light laugh because it's an almost absurd thing to ask. She should be irritated that he's asking because Trish knows what she wants and she's not afraid of getting it, and because Giorno makes everything okay by virtue of being who he is, not what he is. But it's not irritating. It's oddly...charming that he asks. He's not the sort of person to wear insecurities on his sleeve even when they're alone and he doesn't have to give the image of flawless perfection. She hums affirmation because it seems to be all she can manage at the moment.]

[He said thank you earlier, too, didn't he, just before he kissed her? Her smile flickers into something a little wider as her fingertips at his jaw drift a little higher to hold his cheek in her hand before lifting her gaze to meet his again. She should be annoyed, but she's not. She just feels valued. Respected. Precious. Loved. Anything but annoyed.]

Yeah, [she says softly, glancing at his lips for just a half-second.] Always.

[Oh. Well.]

[Slowly, not reluctantly but just slowly, he smiles, the sun breaking through a cloud. It's one of his real smiles, too, the kind he only wears around a few people — not the smile that speaks to someone's impending pain, or the one whose humor doesn't reach his eyes. This is a helpless sort of smile, one he doesn't mind showing but wouldn't be able to hold back even if he wanted to, truthfully, one that overcomes him too quickly and curls a hand around his heart and squeezes.]

[He wants to kiss her again, so he does now, after what feels like it's been forever but was really only a few seconds — closes the tiny space between them and kisses her, quick and silly and playful, nipping gently at her lower lip and following it up with a kiss just to the side of her nose, then one under her eye, and it's not a smile anymore, not really; it's a grin.]

Trish Una kissed me, [he murmurs to her in sing-song, grinning and grinning and kissing the corner of her mouth and resting his forehead against hers.] Trish Una kissed me, she surprised me and she kissed me, I don't know what to do because I won't be able to think about anything for the rest of the day . . . because Trish Una kissed me . . .

[She giggles when Giorno begins peppering her with kisses. It's hard not to with how effusive he is with his affection. Granted, it's not unexpected. What other way would he kiss her?]

Giorno, [she scolds, using only his name. Except that it's a completely insincere attempt at scolding him because she does absolutely nothing to make him stop, even leaning into the kisses on occasion. He's grinning too much for her to ever sincerely tell him to stop anyway. She tries to make a good show of it though, crinkling her nose despite her own smile all the while still leaving their foreheads touching.] Sei ridicolo. You're not going to do this every time I kiss you, are you?

[Lots of other ways, missy, just you wait. He does pause, though, and pull away to give her a look of Utter Perplexion. What kind of woman doesn't like being talked about in the third person?? Baffling!!]

Are you implying that I shouldn't feel honored and lucky every time?

[Seems fake. He does calm down a little, though, even if he does still feel the urge to kiss her all over her face like a wiggly puppy. He just likes her a lot, okay? Okay.]

Besides, it's true. I'll have to cancel all my meetings and just lie on the couch and sigh until well into the evening.

Here I thought you had no weaknesses, Giorno Giovanna. But all it takes is just one kiss... [She leans up, kissing him again albeit very briefly and like it might not happen again for a very long time to come unless the conditions are just right. Or rather, when it will be in her best interest to unleash another kiss.] And you're done for. Just like that.

[She lets her head tip to one side.]

You know, if you really are going to cancel all your meetings, there's probably better ways to spending your evening besides laying around sighing about getting kissed by Trish Una. [What? You think she's teasing you for talking about her in the third person? Hm, that doesn't sound like her... She shrugs a shoulder.] But if that's what you really want to do, I can't stop you.

[Oh no. Another kiss. Another kiss, and she's teasing him! This is rude and unfair. He doesn't deserve this. He is a passably good person, when he feels like being passably good.]

[He makes a big show of pouting, but honestly it's not that much of an act. He's doing this on purpose, opening himself up to be mocked by her, but that doesn't mean it isn't still absolutely devastating every time. Trish is just a devastating person; putting himself in the line of fire doesn't lessen that even a bit.]

[So he leans in close with the quiet but quite obvious hope that she might deign to kiss him again, and then tips his head in the opposite direction, looking at her with eyes wide.]

Mmm, I don't have a preference as long as my activities are Trish Una-centered. Thinking about Trish Una, talking to Trish Una, kissing Trish Una. Buying Trish Una important and beautiful landmarks.

I think Trish Una should tell me what she wants to do, though. That would be my preference.

[He gets about halfway through the third "Trish Una" and then she's laughing again, shaking her head a little as he continues on with all his Trish Una-centered possible activities. He might not be attacking her with another flurry of kisses, but this is just as pleasantly overwhelming. She doesn't feel lightheaded because she's not dizzy, but it's the same sort of buzz that starts in her head and works its way all the way down to her toes. She's still not kissing him. Her eyes dart just briefly to his lips, but she doesn't kiss him again just yet.]

You don't think buying important and beautiful landmarks is a little bit of a leap from kissing me?

[For anybody else, it would be. But not Giorno. He'd give the whole damn world over to her if it was his to give.]

Mm?

[He hesitates, watching her eyes. It's always a privilege, watching her eyes, where she looks and what she pays attention to — and her eyes are beautiful, too, but you can see her cleverness through them and that's what he loves best. But he's finding that he likes it even better when what she's looking at is him, when of all the things in the world she's decided that he's what deserves her attention most of all.]

[It's the warmest feeling he's ever felt. And he runs his thumbs over the backs of her hands, his lips quirked in a crooked smile, as he shakes his head, no.]

No . . . actually, it's a step down. Because I would have bought you important and beautiful landmarks yesterday. Or the day before, or last month, or last year. But I've never kissed you until today. So that's the most special thing there is.

[Coming out of anyone else, that would be a line. It'd be a line and Trish wouldn't hesitate to slap them across the face. But it's Giorno who says that her kiss is he most special thing, not anyone else. It's not that he's incapable of lines, it's just that she knows him well enough to know that he wouldn't. Not right now, not even to tease her.]

[Trish looks down briefly, and, for once, looks a little shy.]

Well, you better not start bragging about it to other people.

What?

[He sounds, and is, genuinely shocked. It doesn't occur to him for a few seconds that she might be exaggerating; even when he realizes, it doesn't negate the concern. There's a lot of concern, because what if she really does believe he would?]

[He ducks his head again and looks at her, brows pinched in concern. She wouldn't, she wouldn't think that of him, and if she did she wouldn't have kissed him. She values herself too highly, but . . .]

Trish. You know I wouldn't, don't you?

[Trish holds Giorno's face in her hands again and then she promptly kisses him before she speaks because although she was just teasing him, that concern sounds fairly genuine. A distraction from it seemed in order and the best distraction possible is certainly a kiss.]

Giogio, relax. [She smiles at him.] Do you really think I'd kiss someone who'd run his mouth about it?

Better yet, do you think I'd kiss someone and let him live long enough to run his mouth if I thought he was going to?

[Oh. That's sort of not fair, honestly, because when she kisses him he forgets more or less entirely what he was going to say. He's also pretty sure she did that on purpose, and is very sure she's going to keep doing it on purpose to distract him.]

[Still, she has a point. It processes, and then he smiles, wrinkling his nose a little.]

You were being so perfect I forgot how perfect you are. That's my fault.

[Trish crinkles her nose with a light laugh because while that doesn't make a lot of sense, she's also pretty sure not even Giorno is aware of what he's saying at this point.]

Make it up to me by not forgetting again.

All right. I'll do my best.

[And he will, of course. Always. But he is only mortal, and Trish Una is very overwhelming.]

What you think of me is important to me, that's all.

[Trish's smile loses a little of it's bite at hearing that. It's not because this is somehow a revelation — of course she knows that her opinion is important and valued, Giorno listens to her all the time — but that there could ever be a time or alternative in which she wouldn't think anything less than the world of him seems absurd. Laughable even. Giorno is and always will be one of the most important people in the world to Trish no matter what. She ducks her head a little in thinking about it because there's times where she wishes she could just run away with him and she'd never have to share him with anyone else in the world. Or maybe if they had met before. . . well, before everything that happened. It's probably silly and irrational to think that they would be the same as they are now if that had happened, but she thinks about it sometimes anyway because it's another way that she could keep Giorno to herself.]

[But that's not the way things are and honestly, that's okay, too. Trish knows that at the end of the day, Napoli — no, the whole of Italy is a better place with Giorno at its head. And that's what makes it okay because Trish doesn't think she could ever be that selfish in the end.]

[She looks back up at Giorno.]

It might be important what I think of you, but it's not something you ever have to worry about. You've never let me down, Giorno, and you never will.

[When she looks away . . . it's not that he's worried. He knows she's fine, that she'd tell him if she wasn't. She's gotten much better about that lately, honestly; she's worked hard, she's pushed herself. Every day she gets stronger and more self-assured.]

[So it's not that he's worried. It's more that he just wonders what she's thinking. What she says in the end — even if that isn't all of it — isn't at all what he was expecting. He startles a little before he can stop himself, because it makes sense, but he doesn't—]

[He doesn't know how to respond, how to articulate the swelling of fondness that makes him feel too big for his own skin. Instead of trying, he swoops in and kisses her again, his hand coming to rest on her hip. That's easier. Even for him, someone who always has words, he'd hate to let her down now by saying the wrong thing. She said he never will, so he has to make sure that's true, doesn't he? If he can do it like this, so much the better.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Firsts!

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