[The sheet containing his clothes just barely gets a glimpse from Abbacchio, but in the end he truly doesn't give a shit about it. Right now, he's trying to concentrate more about his hand in Mista's, letting that ground him.]
I dunno, have you changed the sheets recently?
[It's too quiet to be his usual sharp tone, lacking any real attitude. But then, he's trying to not let himself be completely trampled by his own emotions right now, even if that'd be easy. Maybe Leone Abbacchio from a year ago would be. The man then wouldn't have reached out for help, and instead would have drowned his sorrows in bottle after bottle.
Instead here he is, trying, knowing he can't trust himself, and putting himself into someone else's hands.]
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I dunno, have you changed the sheets recently?
[It's too quiet to be his usual sharp tone, lacking any real attitude. But then, he's trying to not let himself be completely trampled by his own emotions right now, even if that'd be easy. Maybe Leone Abbacchio from a year ago would be. The man then wouldn't have reached out for help, and instead would have drowned his sorrows in bottle after bottle.
Instead here he is, trying, knowing he can't trust himself, and putting himself into someone else's hands.]