"You look...nice." Vittorino swallows thickly as his eyes narrow and pick at every inch of your clothing. You always seemed to wear something nice when you came to visit him in the labyrinth of the cold, lonely Basilica- and it baffled him why you'd take the time. He thought of it as a waste. He clears his throat as his fingers itch at the ends of his gloves, hands resting at his sides. He gives a slight look of distaste. "I still don't understand why you do-" he waves his hands and gestures to your looks. "This- every time. Haven't you anything better to do with your time?" He furrows a brow.