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Nothing quite brought the boy such a genuine sense of delight, than seeing people light up while seeing the creations his Stand could bring to life, and you were absolutely no exception. In fact, one could easily argue that brought him the most joy.
Naturally, this meant he’d continuously do it until the day it stopped being so novel to you... But was it even possible when there was just so much he could keep surprising you with? Today, he’d been messing around and turning a bunch of pebbles into various insects as you two were walking around a rather charming garden. They were mostly butterflies at first, but after a short while he struggled to come up with ones he hadn’t already shown you in the past little while… so his mind wandered to the next best thing. Moths.
Now, while one could argue moths are prettier or uglier than butterflies - it always depended on the individual, he noticed - Giorno himself had always made a note to keep an open mind about it. It’s not that they were better or worse, but they’re just two sides to the same coin, really. One light, one dark, per se. Not all moths were nocturnal, but no butterflies hung about at night either. You could list every difference between them, but there were always exceptions to every rule. It was honestly very interesting to him.
But then again, that’s what had his companions jokingly dismiss him as ‘boring’, from time to time. Perhaps not the most reliable way to sum it up, in the grand scheme of things.
Honestly, all that mattered to him was that you seemed to enjoy seeing them just as much. Overall, it didn’t really matter, did it? And that was the truth - honestly Giorno could conjure up the same thing over and over again, and it didn’t seem it would ever get old… but maybe that was just you. Regardless, you were both having a fantastic time right up until one of the moths landed on your bare arm. You squeaked, while keeping your arm perfectly still, the feeling of the moth walking up your arm making your skin crawl up the back of your neck in a horrible, horrible way.
Your companion noticed the discomfort immediately and inquired gently, “It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
He watched your face twist up into a hundred different variations of unsettled as you managed, “No! No, it’s just that- Oh mio dio …” Your eyes squeezed shut, “The legs are too much, GioGio! They’re grossing me out and I don’t know why!”
His brows shot up, “ ‘Gross’ ?” That was a new one.
You were beyond uncomfortable at this point, and yet it was impossible to put into brief words what you felt, exactly. You supposed revulsion could be an apt one to use… but then that could be misconstrued as a jab towards Giorno or the pretty creature he made for you. It wasn’t that it was ugly or bad, it was just…
Those chunky, sticky little moth feet… making their way up your arm…
Your entire body was constantly moving around except your one arm, trying to distract yourself from the sensation. Your voice raised a bit, becoming rather shrill, “G-GioGio, can you get it off of me please? Please ? I hate this. I hate its stupid legs! Gah!”
He frowned and made an attempt to reach for it, but it decided to flutter and go further down towards your hand, causing you to groan in blatant discomfort as it decided that was where it wanted to settle, “Giorno…”
He cooed softly, “It’s alright. It’ll be fine.” He placed his hand over yours, trying to coax the moth onto his own hand with the other, “I didn’t realize you had such an aversion to moths. I’m sorry.”
Your brow creased at his words - in a different sort of way than the current distress you were feeling - as you cringed when it finally moved again, “I-It’s not that! I just…” You paused until you watched the bug finally crawl entirely off your hand in favour of Giorno’s, “Wasn’t… expecting it to feel so… gross.”
He didn’t seem fazed by it roaming around on his skin at all, which completely baffled you, “What about it is so gross? The legs, you said?”
In retrospect, you felt a bit like a fool making such a big deal out of something that absolutely didn’t warrant such a visceral reaction. Especially seeing how calm Giorno was by comparison. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings or anything - not at all! But how could you explain all that?
You glanced away with an awkward look on your face, “I, uh… yeah. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it was that.” Noticing his questioning tilt of the head, you elaborated, “I really don’t know, GioGio. It’s like… moths have those hairy, sticky sorta feet, right? So they can hang upside down and cling to stuff.”
He nodded.
“It’s just… the sticky part that got to me. Honestly I didn’t even know it was a thing until just then! It was so weird.” You gestured to him, “Don’t you feel what I mean?”
“I do, but I don’t quite understand the extent of it, in your point of view.” He held his hand up closer to his face to inspect it as he spoke, “They have claws at the end of their legs, you know. Maybe it’s that you’re feeling… ‘gross’ about.” He tilted his hand somewhat, watching it cling on to accommodate the steeper angle, “You said that hasn’t happened before, right?”
“No, never! I held like, beetles and caterpillars as a kid… but it never felt so bizarre.”
He hummed in thought, “Interesting.” His remark was aimed more at himself, than you. In a moment’s notice, the moth suddenly shifted back into a stone. He tossed it upwards and caught it in his hand as he looked your way, “Still, I apologize. If I’d known it would make you feel that way, I wouldn’t have done that.”
You laughed it off, “Well I mean… I guess you learn something new every day, huh? Now I know I hate moth legs for some… weird reason.” You tacked on, “They’re still pretty to look at though. I just don’t like them on me.”
“Duly noted.” He had a small smile tugging on his lips, “I’ll stick to butterflies from now on, though. Just to be safe.”
“Giorno,” You’d caught his attention when he’d just started to turn away, “Honestly, so long as you’re not throwing flies or spiders at me, anything you make is fine by me. Really .”
There was an afterthought that trailed into your mind as you and him picked up where you left off, walking around the (thankfully) secluded garden courtyard, and Giorno was definitely the guy to ask considering how he seemed to know just about everything about these sorts of things.
“Hey GioGio. That thing didn’t like… that moth didn’t have a mouth, did it? You know like butterflies and their curly spiral straw thing.”
He raised a brow at your word choice, and wore a slightly smug, knowing smile, “The proboscis ?”
“Yeah, that thing. I didn't see one on it.”
He shook his head, “Some of moths don’t have them, no.”
You frowned, “Why not? Can’t they eat?”
“They don’t usually live long enough to really need to.” His matter-of-fact tone made it sound incredibly grim, to you. He offered a somewhat apologetic shrug, “I’m sorry if that ruins the illusion for you.”
“So... what? They emerge as a moth and just… die?”
“Essentially. Moths as we know them - as adults - usually only survive long enough to reproduce. That’s their sole purpose to exist.” He let out a soft sigh, “It’s tragic, I suppose. But that’s the way it works.”
Depressing as the subject was, your curiosity wasn’t quite satiated yet, “So why do they bother looking pretty then? You’d think evolution would’ve given them the short end in appearances, since it doesn’t really matter.”
His eyes brightened a little at the slight subject shift, “Ah, that’s a good question. Lots of moths blend into their surroundings, but some have spots - like butterflies - to ward off predators.” He shrugged a second time, “When your sole purpose is to find another of your kind, it’s important to not be eaten in the process.”
You nodded along to his words in agreement… but after a moment you couldn’t help yourself, “So… what evolutionary advantage do the gross sticky feet give them, over the nice butterfly feet?”
You half-expected him to catch your light-hearted tone and play along, but his response was serious, “I suppose that depends. Sometimes moths stay in one place for a long period of time.” A hint of a smile crept up on him, “That would be a decent reason to have particularly… ‘grippy’ legs, I would think.”
“So it helps them sort of hunker down and wait it out?”
He nodded, “In a sense. I’m not entirely certain, though. Honestly… I haven’t really looked into insects much.”
You gave him a look that you hoped was hint enough at your response to that insinuation. Giorno not really looking into something much? That was a bit unbelievable. If anything, he seemed too caught up in researching things at times.
In the end, you simply heaved a dramatic sigh, “Well, I guess it doesn’t really matter either way. So long as I don’t gotta put up with having one on me again, I can live with them being a little tragic.”
A long but comfortable silence passed between the two of you again.
You almost thought that was going to be the end of it, but Giorno insisted on getting the final word in, with a playful glint in his eye, “...Do you know about the life cycles of Mantids, by chance?”
You groaned, “GioGio, don’t go and make this depressing again! Yes , I’m aware .” Your tone was only partially serious.
He shook his head, an airy laugh escaping him, “I was just curious, is all.”