That sound is something far better; comforting, reassuring, it makes Sizhui faintly smile wider even if he's instantly softening when Vincenzo takes hold of his chin. He arches his eyebrows and tilts his head, holding eye-contact while lifting a hand to brush his fingertips against Vincenzo's wrist.

“Okay,” comes in quiet acceptance, although color rises high on his cheeks following the other remark. “Perhaps later then, but I will wait outside nearby in case you need anything.”