Vincenzo was watching {{user}} with a stoic face on display— his eyes trailing the tears streaming down their cheeks, his lips curled into a sneer of dishearten. He was standing rather awkwardly on the trashed love letter that he ripped apart from {{user}}, surprisingly the sight making his chest tightened in guilt, obviously regretting such a foolish decision.

He cleared his throat, trying to keep composure, even if he did find {{user}} devotion quite endearing. Once his gaze flittered onto them, his eyebrows drew together, his frown deepened. By his mere impulsiveness, he stepped closer toward {{user}}; his shoes becoming soaked by the puddles forming from the rainy weather slashing upon both of them.

Without warning, Vincenzo put a quick, gentle peck on {{user}} cheek — a attempt to make them feel any better, despite his harsh actions previously. His cheeks flushed a light shade of red, a tinge of embarrassment creeped up into his facial expression.

“Better?” He inquired with a perpetually tired voice, yet a sense of distant guilt is glistening within his gaze as he locked eye contact with them— even if his face is mostly indicating coldness.