[Indeed, she understands. It hurt to have every layer of her thought process peeled back and scrutinized, but it did help to see where he's coming from. Maybe it was necessary to have it happen this way, since she knows she wouldn't have even made a decision like this if she'd brought up the thought when it was still just that: a thought.
But it's a thought she's held onto since she met Doppio at the dollhouse, back to being the pathetic man she met kneeling on the sidewalk in the city, and not the underboss howling for Giorno's blood that he was on the beach.
Now there's nuance to it going forward, and Bruno says...he trusts her not to make it worse. She clings to that hard, bending the edges, and fine, she'll prove him right. She has no choice.
He trusts her, but if he trusts her to do nothing, then he doesn't know her well.
Trish at least lets her arms fall, posture slightly more relaxed when she meets Bruno's eyes.]
Then I suppose there's nothing to tell.
[The boys are probably still being playful towards her on the network while this is going on, so she'll have to pretend like nothing happened when she returns to her room. This is...fine.
This is the price she pays for panicking, right? And for lying through her teeth. Somehow, she finds it in herself to keep her voice even when she says:]
If that's everything, Bucciarati, I'm going back to my room.
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But it's a thought she's held onto since she met Doppio at the dollhouse, back to being the pathetic man she met kneeling on the sidewalk in the city, and not the underboss howling for Giorno's blood that he was on the beach.
Now there's nuance to it going forward, and Bruno says...he trusts her not to make it worse. She clings to that hard, bending the edges, and fine, she'll prove him right. She has no choice.
He trusts her, but if he trusts her to do nothing, then he doesn't know her well.
Trish at least lets her arms fall, posture slightly more relaxed when she meets Bruno's eyes.]
Then I suppose there's nothing to tell.
[The boys are probably still being playful towards her on the network while this is going on, so she'll have to pretend like nothing happened when she returns to her room. This is...fine.
This is the price she pays for panicking, right? And for lying through her teeth. Somehow, she finds it in herself to keep her voice even when she says:]
If that's everything, Bucciarati, I'm going back to my room.