[ It's something he's used to, rubbing people the wrong way. In fact, he can't remember the last time he rubbed someone the right way. Considering a woman he once threatened with death wound up being his closest confidant, it's unsurprising that relations would be somewhat rocky here. That, and Setsuna already knew him to be a volatile man—because he was, too, and so could recognize it in others.

But Setsuna doesn't dwell on the matter. He's never dwells on much for long, wanderer in mind and in spirit that he is. ]

I don't think it's called that, anymore. But I've been there before.

...and you're welcome.

[ Setsuna's hand lingers longer than necessary, fingers clasped around Mello's. It is indeed difficult to tell through the leather, but you don't become skilled with blades without learning how to use your hands well, to tell an entire story through touch alone. He'd hesitate to use the word delicate, as Mello gives off the impression he is anything but, but they are certainly slimmer than his, which are calloused from many, many hours spent piloting, and if only in a literal sense, more fragile. Oh, he could snap them. Easily. But he won't. Wouldn't ever, likely, unless Mello gave him ample reason to.

Once his hand drops, it's reaching into his jacket, pulling something out and offering it to Mello. ]

Here.

[ It's a small candy. Food?

...well, well. Whaddya know. It's chocolate, and it looks—and smells—rather tasty. ]

It's fine. I had some earlier.

[ A peace offering, perhaps, and because he already knows you're naturally suspicious, he's got more and will start munching away (and also because, as it turns out, he's rather fond of chocolate, too). So not poisoned, unless he deliberately had a death wish. And he'll just be heading to the side of the building to sit on its edge, regardless of what Mello chooses to do, eyes drifting back to the destruction. ]