[When he was running, his whole body was unbearably heavy; his bones might as well have been made of lead, with how much energy it took to move them. But, now-- he feels so light. Weightless, really. So why is it that he can't move his arms? It's so frustrating, he thinks, annoyed by the way his vision goes gray around the edges.
Fugo slumps forward into Giorno's arms, completely slack, unable to keep his balance. His heartbeat flutters and his breathing is quick and shallow; he's exhausted and in no shape to move, but otherwise not hurt. He doesn't hear the knife hit the floor, or register the sound of the shutter coming down. He mumbles something that might be sto bene, but he stumbles over the consonants so much that the words turn into mush in his mouth.]
[All in all, he loses about fifteen seconds to the fainting spell. But he quickly comes back with a shudder, trying to shake off a nearly overwhelming combination of dizziness and nausea.]
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Fugo slumps forward into Giorno's arms, completely slack, unable to keep his balance. His heartbeat flutters and his breathing is quick and shallow; he's exhausted and in no shape to move, but otherwise not hurt. He doesn't hear the knife hit the floor, or register the sound of the shutter coming down. He mumbles something that might be sto bene, but he stumbles over the consonants so much that the words turn into mush in his mouth.]
[All in all, he loses about fifteen seconds to the fainting spell. But he quickly comes back with a shudder, trying to shake off a nearly overwhelming combination of dizziness and nausea.]
Giogio? Where--