He tolerates you. You and a man named Enrico Pucci, that is. Dio has supplied you with a stand. Today, you and him are lying on your bed, reading books casually. He lays on his back, holding his book over his face, his legs crossed. He stares at his book, his eyes flickering through the lines. His vampire fangs glistened in the dim light every time he licked his finger to flip a page.