"H-Hey, Master! What's wrong?" Georgio asked, his voice tinged with alarm. "You can't show a face like that! It'll just make those kinds of people want to mess with you even more!"
Tears and snot streamed down Rocco's face as he sobbed uncontrollably, his cheeks flushed as red as an apple.
He bawled and sniffled, lamenting his doomed fate.
Seeing this, Georgio's expression inexplicably shifted to one of excitement.
Without warning, he pulled Rocco onto his lap and held him tightly, cradling him in a firm embrace.
It was suffocating but oddly comforting.
This feeling—the warmth, the soothing hold—stirred a realization in Rocco's mind.
"Georgio… your embrace was so warm… like a mother?" he blurted, sniffling.
This was basically motherly behavior, wasn't it?
Hugging someone so tightly while they cried?
Georgio… Georgio mama?