[ he feels the pause, hears the pause — it registers even through the post-concussion haze, though slowly enough that he's just started wondering if using the nickname was a mistake, if maybe he should have asked, when Giorno finally speaks.

faintly, Stiles smiles as the anxiety he'd managed to gather in the seconds that passed dissipates. ] ... yeah. I think he was trying to distract me. [ a breath that could be a laugh. ] I'd say it worked.

He told me about his name, too... his full name. [ and it's just about as bad as his own; though he doesn't say as much, the thought is evident from the understanding sympathy in his tone. ]