[Bruno is a peculiar man, isn't he? But Trish can both understand and admire the logic to how he works.
He had a moral code. He believed it was worthless if he didn't stand by it, live by it. It didn't matter if she was a stranger...she needed his help.
She wonders what he would have felt if he had simply turned away while Diavolo snuffed her life out in the depths of the church...she wonders a lot about what actually happened then too, because she was unconscious for the vast majority of it. Was he angry on her behalf? Was he simply a stony arbiter of his own brand of justice, walking coolly in front of the boss and knowing doing so had set him on a path so hilariously stacked against him only a fool would pursue it so doggedly? Both? Neither? Was he ever scared...?
She'll never ask. She'll never know.
Trish wonders what her mother would have thought of all this too. She's thankful Donatella was already dead by the time the gang caught wind of her...she won't ever have to think about her poor mother, bedridden and inconsolable over her missing daughter. It's sheer mercy that Trish was left alone to deal with this. Because somehow...she handled it. Maybe she's as insane as the rest of Bucciarati's band of boys if she didn't simply curl up into a ball and beg for death, which would have been far easier and less harrowing, less uncertain. A small part of her sometimes thinks about all the times she should have died. But instead she's here, sitting in a car with the man who changed everything for her.
She's admittedly only half listening to his answer, what with everything circling around in her mind, but she processes enough of it. The property is a gift from Passione, particularly from a name she sort of recognizes, vaguely.]
A gift isn't necessarily practical, right? He probably just wanted to show off how well he could spoil people. He must have liked you especially if he didn't buy you a shack in the woods.
[Or it was an oblique message that Bruno needed to relax, she could see that too. He was always so serious, and she's seen enough of his gang to know gangsters were more than capable of goofing off.]
And now you're spoiling me.
[Bruno has spoiled her so much already but this? This is so much...she knows why he feels obligated, but still.]
...How long do you plan on staying with me, Bucciarati?
[She asks, mostly because she's going to work to halve that time. He shouldn't have to be concerned with her for too much longer, if she isn't truly as pathetic as she feels some days.]
crashes into ur house
He had a moral code. He believed it was worthless if he didn't stand by it, live by it. It didn't matter if she was a stranger...she needed his help.
She wonders what he would have felt if he had simply turned away while Diavolo snuffed her life out in the depths of the church...she wonders a lot about what actually happened then too, because she was unconscious for the vast majority of it. Was he angry on her behalf? Was he simply a stony arbiter of his own brand of justice, walking coolly in front of the boss and knowing doing so had set him on a path so hilariously stacked against him only a fool would pursue it so doggedly? Both? Neither? Was he ever scared...?
She'll never ask. She'll never know.
Trish wonders what her mother would have thought of all this too. She's thankful Donatella was already dead by the time the gang caught wind of her...she won't ever have to think about her poor mother, bedridden and inconsolable over her missing daughter. It's sheer mercy that Trish was left alone to deal with this. Because somehow...she handled it. Maybe she's as insane as the rest of Bucciarati's band of boys if she didn't simply curl up into a ball and beg for death, which would have been far easier and less harrowing, less uncertain. A small part of her sometimes thinks about all the times she should have died. But instead she's here, sitting in a car with the man who changed everything for her.
She's admittedly only half listening to his answer, what with everything circling around in her mind, but she processes enough of it. The property is a gift from Passione, particularly from a name she sort of recognizes, vaguely.]
A gift isn't necessarily practical, right? He probably just wanted to show off how well he could spoil people. He must have liked you especially if he didn't buy you a shack in the woods.
[Or it was an oblique message that Bruno needed to relax, she could see that too. He was always so serious, and she's seen enough of his gang to know gangsters were more than capable of goofing off.]
And now you're spoiling me.
[Bruno has spoiled her so much already but this? This is so much...she knows why he feels obligated, but still.]
...How long do you plan on staying with me, Bucciarati?
[She asks, mostly because she's going to work to halve that time. He shouldn't have to be concerned with her for too much longer, if she isn't truly as pathetic as she feels some days.]