[ Squalo actually opens it - testament of him being in an at least okay mood, maybe a bit surprising considering his recently getting murdered and then tortured to hell and back for two weeks. But hey, some things got sorted, that's the important part. ]
[ And while as far as he's concerned he was never actively malicious to Francis during their fun and short time together, a gift is the last thing he expects. ]
[ A pretty good one, too. It's hard enough to get decent booze in Hell, Italian usually required pestering Lucifer himself. ]
[ He raises his eyebrows. He takes it. He turns it over in his hands. ]
[He'd actually managed to get lucky digging through the basement, but it had taken time. He'd swiped it and had to stare down a demon, but it was fine.]
Not as far as I know, anyway. But it is Hell.
[Francis isn't forth-coming with any particular details, hands shoving in his pockets with a slightly uncomfortable set to his shoulders. He almost doesn't say anything, is tempted to just leave it there since Squalo knows what it's for.
But no, he sighs a little, a roll of his eyes that's more aimed at himself than the swordsman.]
You just.. Look, you weren't as much of a dick as you could have been. I'm not gonna just ignore that. And I don't like owing people.
Well, that's a risk I'm going to take for decent wine.
[ He will absolutely taste test it before letting Xanxus anywhere near it, however. ]
[ He slowly looks the young man over as he speaks. This is actually the same point Squalo had made to his friends when they insisted he was being out of line. He was being mild! He totally deserved credit for it! And those fuckers tried to tell him he didn't! ]
[ Well, fuck that. This guy totally gets it. His smirk grows into a broad grin. ]
True. You're smart to appreciate that. [ Not throwing shade on Hector or anything, nope. ]
[ He lingers. Part of him wants to say sorry for getting him involved, but another insists he's done nothing wrong. ]
...Too bad you got caught up in it, huh. [ There, the golden middle. It puts the blame on the situation. Perfect neutrality. He gives a courteous nod. ] But you're welcome.
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no subject
[ And while as far as he's concerned he was never actively malicious to Francis during their fun and short time together, a gift is the last thing he expects. ]
[ A pretty good one, too. It's hard enough to get decent booze in Hell, Italian usually required pestering Lucifer himself. ]
[ He raises his eyebrows. He takes it. He turns it over in his hands. ]
Is it poisoned?
[ conversationally. ]
no subject
Not as far as I know, anyway. But it is Hell.
[Francis isn't forth-coming with any particular details, hands shoving in his pockets with a slightly uncomfortable set to his shoulders. He almost doesn't say anything, is tempted to just leave it there since Squalo knows what it's for.
But no, he sighs a little, a roll of his eyes that's more aimed at himself than the swordsman.]
You just.. Look, you weren't as much of a dick as you could have been. I'm not gonna just ignore that. And I don't like owing people.
[A beat, and he maybe squirms a little.]
Thank you.
[Eww, fucking gross.]
no subject
Well, that's a risk I'm going to take for decent wine.
[ He will absolutely taste test it before letting Xanxus anywhere near it, however. ]
[ He slowly looks the young man over as he speaks. This is actually the same point Squalo had made to his friends when they insisted he was being out of line. He was being mild! He totally deserved credit for it! And those fuckers tried to tell him he didn't! ]
[ Well, fuck that. This guy totally gets it. His smirk grows into a broad grin. ]
True. You're smart to appreciate that. [ Not throwing shade on Hector or anything, nope. ]
[ He lingers. Part of him wants to say sorry for getting him involved, but another insists he's done nothing wrong. ]
...Too bad you got caught up in it, huh. [ There, the golden middle. It puts the blame on the situation. Perfect neutrality. He gives a courteous nod. ] But you're welcome.
[ He hesitates. ]
Would you, uh, like some risotto?