Taking his time, looking at the fingers laced with his own, squeezing them a little, Ranuccio sighs quietly.

"Yeah, he's one of those, always ready to go to his knees sprouting declarations of love...and he believes them, too. You are different. I am, too. We don't love easily. I thought, after Michele, I wouldn't..."

His thumb rubs on Clay's wrist, where he can see pale blue veins, where the skin is transparent almost. "But you love Callie. And I love Jason. At least she knows."