Songs About Roses

"Alas, I have none more to teach you, brother." There's still that consistent smirk, but with softer eyes and a playful tap on his brother's arm. It's a small circle that Antonio loves, even smaller he would let that love be known to. But in the Galletti household, there is no secret in that fealty. "You were always a natural study. But wiser than me, judging by your clean shirt." Emrys always had a knack for patience he never did, and he admires that. Even if it's only a few hours before he inevitably lets loose himself. "One of the nameless ones. But he shan't forget ours." With a pause, he glances from inspection of his hand, to his brother. "Diversions, you say? And who is diverting you tonight?"

viviana affected a somber expression, stubbornly keeping her hands concealed. "you wound me, my lord," she lamented. her eyes dipped down to the smirk on his lips, and when her gaze returned to his a smile of her own had spread across her face. "'tis a shame," she sighed, stepping around him and taking a few steps before adding, over her shoulder: "for i would have fed it to you, which would have only intensified the pleasure of the experience."

"You'll recover, my lady." He chides quickly, that patented sinister smile lining his face. He wouldn't dish it out to a woman who couldn't handle it, and Viviana takes everything on the chin. That's always been the fun of the Palazzo women, and he rolls his eyes. "No need to pout. I'll play along. I'm sure it'll be an intensely sensual experience, am I right?" He asks, following behind with his arms rested behind his back.

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Shopping for recreation is more painful than the heaviest fists, thrown about during gambling rings or his favorite pub. But for all his flaws, Antonio is still a brother to sisters, who deserve a fair amount of spoiling. "Frankly, not at all." He whistles at Viviana, his typical slick humor bitter back with a coy smirk. "Alright, let's see it then." He nods, tapping her right hand.

"It wasn't standing for nothing. It was an agreement." She reeminded her old friend. "My whole house trusted them with me. And Lord Silva promised-" There was a pause, remembering the sweet words. If only they were reality.

"What did the old crook promise you? Pretty jewels and trips to Milan?" He hums out loud, never letting up from his harsh position. The lady of the enemy house knows him too well, knows that Antonio takes weakness and picks at its scabs. Even with his closest friends, regardless of how distant they've become over the years. It's his way, exposing pains and hearts. Something cathartic about it, he thinks, instead of this denial that's consumed her so.

him. and there it is again, the conflicted sensation his presence always brings, as though her very emotions are at war with themselves. "i can't be certain of that, my lord," comes her measured response, for indeed he may as well have bitten her already with the sting she suffers from this close proximity to his perplexing gentleness. she can't even imagine the look on her mother's face, bearing witness to her daughter mingling with a destra.

For the life of him, he could never understand the Zetti's and their penchant for control. Maybe beyond the obvious blood and vengeance, it's those philosophical differences that create a chasm. One that he closes, stepping forward to the young woman, staring from beneath his dark lashes. "Hmm... I'm afraid I do not have an eye for discerning competence from talent." He reminds Elena, letting his calloused hand move across his chest to expose more of his shredded button.

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"What's the old adage? You stand for nothing, you fall for everything..." Mekkhala doesn't invite his opinion. Who is he, but a member of the house she turned her back on to wed her spouse? One of the louder voices against the Sinistra side, whose penchant for punishing those without a stance is... Well, punishing, to those around him.

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