[Oh, and there she is. She just looks normal--like she always does. Like an average girl. The girl next door type, Giorno thinks, at least by American standards. He tucks his watch into his pocket and gives her a look that's more canny than wary, simply because there's no indication whatsoever of fear. And really, he isn't afraid. Not much can hurt him. If anything, he'd be worried for others, those he cares about.]

[After a very brief pause, he catches his keys up in a fist and wiggles his fingers at her.]

Buona sera. Come on in.

[And he turns to go inside without waiting for her response, although he does hold the door for her. Ever the gentleman. Ish.]

Would you like something to eat? There's a few sandwiches left. On the house, not that I'm actually making a profit.