[ She starts, but...but trails off. Riley knows, more or less, how to navigate high school. She hates it. Hates it. But, she knows what people expect, what to keep quiet about, how not to make waves. She knows how to smile, pretty and cheerful, to avoid unwanted attention. But...this isn't high school. And Giorno, he doesn't act anything like the other kids at Giles Corey High. That's...good, right?
It should be good. High school is, paradoxically, what Riley hates and what she needs. She's spent so long trying to figure out how to get through life, as a kid, that life outside the structure of school, even as far as college— it terrifies her. She knows what to expect from other high school kids. She knows how to deal with them.
But, Giorno... He's something completely different, isn't he? I was excited to see you— has anyone ever been excited to see her? Truly, actually excited? Anyone except... Except Cairo.
A gnawing pit in her stomach. The voice in her mind hisses, that she's going to ruin this, like she ruined that. It hisses that he's going to ruin this, like Cairo ruined that. She wants to- to disappear, to scream, to not hear these kind, unnecessary words. Like how Giorno's thinking, she's also thinking. About an older boy telling her she could walk home, then. About getting Cairo's voicemail and hanging up before saying anything. About trying to actually talk to her mom, voice shaky and eyes teary, and getting a half-drunk response she'd become accustom to, not now, Riley. mom's had a long day, Riley.
She sits, quietly, and listens. Even ventures a glance, at one point. She's not sure she's ever felt unbalanced in this way. She's not sure if the warm feeling inside her is from her unnecessary coat or...something else. Something she doesn't hate. ]
Thank you. [ She ends up mumbling. Even though something screams in her brain, that that's bad. But... But he's seen her do a lot worse than mumble, and he didn't judge her then, did he? ] I'm... I still- it's a little...too much, a whole...house, in the ground, and...a lot of people I don't...I don't know, [ as she rambles, the words get clearer, more together, louder, ] and, please don't actually die, I'd really- really not like that, I didn't- really mean to, talk about any of this, I just wanted to- give you your gift and—
[ The gift.
All at once, she withdraws her hand from the frayed bandage. All at once, eyes up, she snatches the gift bag from her lap and holds it out to him. That's why she came here, in the first place. ]
I got you something. [ ...Obviously. But, still, she pushes on. ] And...made... Just take it okay?
[ Everything about her posture, the way she holds eye contact for about two seconds before dropping it, the way she grips the handles of the bag with both hands: It communicates that she's not used to this. Her heart hammers in her chest, but...but she's here. That has to count, for something. ]
cw: intrusive thoughts, parental neglect mentions
[ She starts, but...but trails off. Riley knows, more or less, how to navigate high school. She hates it. Hates it. But, she knows what people expect, what to keep quiet about, how not to make waves. She knows how to smile, pretty and cheerful, to avoid unwanted attention. But...this isn't high school. And Giorno, he doesn't act anything like the other kids at Giles Corey High. That's...good, right?
It should be good. High school is, paradoxically, what Riley hates and what she needs. She's spent so long trying to figure out how to get through life, as a kid, that life outside the structure of school, even as far as college— it terrifies her. She knows what to expect from other high school kids. She knows how to deal with them.
But, Giorno... He's something completely different, isn't he? I was excited to see you— has anyone ever been excited to see her? Truly, actually excited? Anyone except... Except Cairo.
A gnawing pit in her stomach. The voice in her mind hisses, that she's going to ruin this, like she ruined that. It hisses that he's going to ruin this, like Cairo ruined that. She wants to- to disappear, to scream, to not hear these kind, unnecessary words. Like how Giorno's thinking, she's also thinking. About an older boy telling her she could walk home, then. About getting Cairo's voicemail and hanging up before saying anything. About trying to actually talk to her mom, voice shaky and eyes teary, and getting a half-drunk response she'd become accustom to, not now, Riley. mom's had a long day, Riley.
She sits, quietly, and listens. Even ventures a glance, at one point. She's not sure she's ever felt unbalanced in this way. She's not sure if the warm feeling inside her is from her unnecessary coat or...something else. Something she doesn't hate. ]
Thank you. [ She ends up mumbling. Even though something screams in her brain, that that's bad. But... But he's seen her do a lot worse than mumble, and he didn't judge her then, did he? ] I'm... I still- it's a little...too much, a whole...house, in the ground, and...a lot of people I don't...I don't know, [ as she rambles, the words get clearer, more together, louder, ] and, please don't actually die, I'd really- really not like that, I didn't- really mean to, talk about any of this, I just wanted to- give you your gift and—
[ The gift.
All at once, she withdraws her hand from the frayed bandage. All at once, eyes up, she snatches the gift bag from her lap and holds it out to him. That's why she came here, in the first place. ]
I got you something. [ ...Obviously. But, still, she pushes on. ] And...made... Just take it okay?
[ Everything about her posture, the way she holds eye contact for about two seconds before dropping it, the way she grips the handles of the bag with both hands: It communicates that she's not used to this. Her heart hammers in her chest, but...but she's here. That has to count, for something. ]