When he pulls from the kiss, his voice comes out again, hardly above a murmur and only for her to hear.

"I love this," and with that he presses a soft kiss to her temples. He says it again and lets his mouth take hers for a few precious moments, heated and hungry. And he says it a third time, dipping down to nip at her throat softly. And finally, very gently, he comes back up to cup the back of her neck and smile. A genuine quirk of the lips upwards as he runs fingers through soft hair at her nape. "E ti." And you.

He can hide behind his language, hide briefly because Darcy knows some in passing, but he can stop his voice from quaking as he looks at her. Beautiful, breathless, bold.