[ They're in the large kitchen with the stone oven, Elio standing by the counter, arranging the selection of cold spreads and fish dishes that Mafalda's delivered to their door for today's lunch. It's going to be a late lunch, though, because it's already two pm, but they've both been elsewhere engaged all morning, so food's not really been a priority. Elio's been looking through old transcriptions of Bach, with Lucifer snooping around the house, the grounds, Elio has caught glimpses of him through doorways, through windows and most of the time, the other man's been almost obsessively preoccupied scratching his back. Up against trees (making them shake, fruit falling down all around him), against the building's stone walls (making those shake, Elio caught him getting hit over the head by a painting that fell down just an hour ago), against furniture, one time against Elio who'd come over to offer him a tumbler of whiskey, new purchase from Bordighera, old and expensive.
He's sitting by the kitchen table now, Lucifer. Still trying to scratch himself just a little bit against the backrest of the chair. Elio smiles, it must be his wings. Naturally, he can't say for sure, because he hasn't actually seen them since the gift revelation the previous night, but he imagines that they've born the brunt of Lucifer's frustration, the way they've always reflected his moods, right?
A frown. Elio returns to moving tuna crudo from Mafalda's tupperware to a plate. ]
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He's sitting by the kitchen table now, Lucifer. Still trying to scratch himself just a little bit against the backrest of the chair. Elio smiles, it must be his wings. Naturally, he can't say for sure, because he hasn't actually seen them since the gift revelation the previous night, but he imagines that they've born the brunt of Lucifer's frustration, the way they've always reflected his moods, right?
A frown. Elio returns to moving tuna crudo from Mafalda's tupperware to a plate. ]