[Carlos is not quite as good at restraining himself, so what comes out first is:]

Don't lie to me.

[Though, if his moderately horrified facial expression is anything to go by, there's a sense of immediate regret about saying it. He's already backpedaling, tripping over words that he isn't sure mean anything in even the most facetious of manners. He almost looks afraid--not of Giorno, necessarily, but of a proverbial punishment hanging over his head.]

--Sorry, that was...mm. That was uncalled for, I'm sorry.

[Eventually, he slows down enough to elaborate more beyond frantic apologies and takebacks, eyes still flickering from Gold Experience to Giorno.]

I'm...okay, I meant it, though? Please don't lie to me? I can tell you're lonely--it's...pardon me, but it's not really hard to tell, you know? Or...maybe you don't know, I guess. But you are lonely, and you can be lonely in a world of billions of people, and even lonelier in a world of less than fifty. Sometimes you like talking to people because you--

[He pauses to avoid an inevitable voice crack.]

Because you feel lonely. It's just science.