Damien recognized that getting straight to the point and foregoing unnecessary formality would be the smartest route here, and so he answered accordingly. "[I've come to apologize and earn your forgiveness.]" There was an important distinction in the choice of words words, he was not asking for or even demanding forgiveness but was instead seeking a way could earn it in the eyes of the man he'd offended during his last visit here. It was a gesture befitting a patriarch, and one that carried the suggestion that Damien was no stranger to tribulation.
"[I realize that my last visit here was more than insulting. It was an explicit turning up of the nose to the sanctity of your home. I'm not accustomed to family households, the one I was born into was never much of one. But if you'll permit my presence here then I'll work towards understanding what it means to be part of one, and more importantly - acting like it.]" There was no unease or discomfort in either Damien's tone or posture - just a general sense of deference for what Salvatore might say or do in response to all of this.
And now that silence had been permitted to nestle in, Salvatore was free to gauge these intentions.
In moments like this, Salvatore de Marco was not a man of many words, a trait he seemingly passed on to his daughter. He listened to Damien, hands loosely hanging by his side, his colorful attire starkly contrasting with the lack of emotion he now displayed.
"[So, you've come to apologize, to live among us.]"
He clicked his tongue disapprovingly and glanced around as if to ensure who else might be listening to their conversation. But there was no one near them except for Damien and himself.
"[During your first visit, you did everything to ensure you couldn't live with us. You were proud, haughty, and arrogant.]"
The taller Salvatore smirked amusingly and shrugged.
"[What happened to those defining character traits of yours?]"
There was no interruption or hint of offense from Damien in the face of Salvatore's scathing criticism. Perhaps he felt it was justified, or perhaps he was seeking to avoid an argument for Fiorella's sake. "[That's not who I am and sometimes I need to remind myself that. I met your daughter years ago and realised I had little to be proud of and even less reason to be arrogant. I feel that moreso now that we've brought your granddaughter into the world.]" It was quite the answer. Smooth but not rehearsed, born of how Damien felt in that exact moment and spoken to the backdrop of his mind recollecting its every memory leading up to this confrontation. The words themselves were clear in their meaning and were little more than a confession and request for absolution.
Given that this was by no means one of the several choreographed speeches Damien had given in the past his choice of words remained brief and as concise as possible. And having spoken them, having taken the risk of coming here and disarming - he had nothing further to say. Trying to sell his intentions to Salvatore would be disrespectful, although this man was every bit Damien's match in intellect and could easily tell there was a lifetime of personal details that Damien was withholding for now.
And having spoken the words he intended to say, silence returned once again to rule over the vicinity. Though it was hard pressed by gusts of breeze that undermined the stillness of everything. This in turn drew attention to the fact that despite what must have been immense pressure, Damien was practically motionless. Betrayed now and then by slow and calm breathing - deliberately so. Clearly some of Fiorella's mannerisms had been picked up inadvertently, which in turn suggested a genuine bond.
Of course none of that meant anything. Not if this appeal for absolution was refused.
Salvatore listened intently to Damien's words; his gaze fixed on him throughout the exchange. He finally nodded slightly, signaling his understanding.
Yet, after a brief pause, Salvatore expressed his dissatisfaction with a click of his tongue and asked a pair of questions.
"[Why my daughter? Why my family?]"
At this juncture, it was challenging to discern whether the tension between Salvatore and Damien stemmed from the biological or cultural disparities between Outcasts and humans. On the one hand, there was the concern about his cherished, traditional daughter spending a significant portion of her extended life with a swiftly aging partner and the potential for Ciara to be perceived as lesser by other Outcasts. On the other hand, there was the cultural dimension, with Damien Morreti not fitting the mold of a husband who could accompany "Fia" across Malta and publicly forge their own legacy.
Damien tackled these questions one at a time and offered Salvatore no hesitation that could be adversely scrutinized either. "[People have been trying to change or control me since I was born. Your daughter has never tried to do either. She both accepts who I am and actively doesn't want me to change.]" Clearly this was part of a larger answer, because Damien wasn't finished and simply provided the words with some space to sink in and not be carried off by the petulant breeze.
"[You'll find it strange. But when Fiorella first told me about how you view the birth of a child here, it wounded me. I think it made me feel a little jealous too. Where I'm from a child like me can be bought and altered to the needs expected of them. And if a child like me were to fall short of those expectations? Abort and try again. Compare that to the absolute joy you have for a child being born at all. You view them all as miracles. So of course I wanted to be part of a family like that. I've always wanted to.]" Damien was unsure how much Salvatore knew about Liberty, its culture and oddities. But if this statement was taken at face value then it painted quite a bleak picture regarding the sanctity of life in the cradle of the Sector.
But these statements needed closure, which was something Damien had in mind before he'd even started speaking. "[Even more significant than any of this is our daughter. Quite possibly the greatest gift I could have asked for and know I don't deserve. But all the same, she has the chance to live a life I was robbed of. And there's nothing I won't do to keep it that way.]" There was a momentary silence again, but somehow this one came across as more grim given his emphasis on the last word.
"[Nothing.]" This final word punctuated the exact moment Salvatore could see the real measure of who he was talking to. It was a glimpse into a mind that blurred the line between love and madness, although perhaps the two had more in common than expected. Damien truly would do anything it took to preserve this family, in all its ways, and by any means necessary. The scale of which that conviction could apply to would certainly disturb a lesser man.
But not someone like Salvatore. To him, this was likely all too familiar.
Salvatore burst into loud laughter upon hearing of attempts to control Damien Morreti from his own family, and with almost theatrical flair, he clapped him on the shoulder.
"[It's clear you know nothing of our women, boy. One just made a feared Liberty terrorist leader beg for forgiveness from her father.]"
Damien's monologue, which essentially highlighted the superiority of the Outcast society over the wealthiest elite from Liberty, seemed to flatter him immensely. This was evident from the smirk on Salvatore's lips as he listened to his 'adversary'.
As Damien finished speaking, Salvatore's expression again became more serious, though it no longer bore the cold, murderous look as before.
This question was given only a simple and brief answer unlike the others. "[To spend time with the family, and to seek your blessing in taking your daughter's hand.]" It was ambitious, even though it was an open-ended request and not something phrased with an urgent need for approval. Still, Salvatore was being openly told that Damien's ultimate intention indeed was to marry his daughter. It was no doubt something Salvatore had expected Damien to do for some time now, especially after the birth of Ciara.
At least now all cards were on the table openly, and there was no elaborate ruse or false front being put up in terms of attitude. Now all that remained was the matter of Salvatore determining whether or not to invite Damien inside the estate proper rather than continuing this interrogation out in the breeze. As pleasant a day as it might be outside, this scene felt like it had overstayed its welcome if only slightly.