Damien said nothing further and instead just nodded before entering the villa itself.
While intently watching his daughter draw up what she must have thought was a fantastic portrait, Damien sat down on the carpet and positioned himself right next to Fiorella. He was close enough that leaning in to kiss her shoulder was easy enough to follow up by resting his head there. And while he did feel this sense of ease wash over him for a moment, it was quickly rebuked and the normality of this moment returned to prevalence instead. It was if something encased him and prevented the waves of whatever this was from rolling in. "[I wouldn't go that far just yet. But he seems to be starting to understand me.]"
Though despite this hiccup and barrier, Damien appeared happy. More for the fact that his daughter was encouraged to have creative outlets in stark contrast to the rehearsed behaviors he was expected to practice. For a moment it might have seemed like he was glaring, but his expression was far too soft. She could surmise that he was actually just seeking to burn this exact moment of time into his memory and keep it there forever. A picture could easily do the same thing, but he preferred how personal simply taking in the moment rather than fiddling with a camera felt.
"[I wonder what she'll be like when she grows up.]" The nuances of what kind of personality she would have were evidently on his mind, and he seemed content to not truly know how she would grow and behave. Nothing about her existence appeared to be defined or dictated, and that was all that mattered.