Angel Dust

Pretty immediately, Valentino's gaze falls on all the broken pieces of the vase scattered across the tile down below, his teeth clenching tight and his hands twisting around the railing. Truthfully - it's definitely an easily replaceable item, but if Angel thinks he can just waltz into the penthouse like he owns it and start trashing Valentino's things? Well, he's wrong.

Val's eyes narrow and follow Angel, and as he climbs closer to the top of the stairs, Valentino lets go of the railing and takes a few long, stalking strides to meet him right off the last step. Quickly, sharply, he darts his primary hands out toward him and grabs him by the front of his jacket, dragging him closer with little effort and hauling him over to the side so he can back him up into the railing.

He towers over him, pressed uncomfortably close. "That vase cost me more than you make in a fucking week, you brat."

It's maybe a little bit of an exaggeration. Likely, Valentino doesn't even remember how much he spent, because it was inconsequential at the time. He jostles Angel a little, just... for fun, and presses himself even closer. Angel's been here throwing a tantrum for less than a minute and Valentino's already half-hard over it. "The next one's coming out of your fucking paycheck."