"hey, happy seventeenth, dude! let's make this one way better than last year, okay?" mista hands giorno a gift that's surprisingly well-wrapped (for the most part, it's a bit messy) -- within is a bag that mista found that made him think of giorno! it's a deep violet handbag adorned with golden butterfly ornaments and baubles. "hope you like this. i think it's got giorno vibes!"
happy (belated) birthday giorno! —- not accepting.
cheerful and optimistic as ever, mista’s presence turns a dull moment into something thrilling. the messily wrapped gift isn’t criticised whatsoever, giorno instead amused, if not flattered, by his sincere effort. he understands that not everyone was precise with their calculations, nor were they taught how to properly utilize wrapping paper, so its presentation becomes irrelevant. carefully removing the paper from the box within, giorno sets it aside for later ( the paper bin is somewhere else in the room ), choosing to fixate on its contents instead. lifting the lid and setting it on the wooden table underneath, a soft gasp escaped his lips the moment he realized what it was —- a rather beautiful bag.
taking it by the top and removing it from the box, he gently places it on his own palm, feeling its weight and texture. it’s wonderful, perfectly fancy without overwhelming the senses.
“ oh, this is rather cute. you’ve got a great understanding of my style, mista. thank you so much. ” it’s unprompted, but the hug that followed was long overdue. this time, he won’t even mention the faint musky scent that still penetrates his now - familiar cologne. instead, his embrace tightens, to show appreciation for his dearest friend.