Even though the other man was clearly blind and couldn't truly see him, somehow the Holy Father still maintained his composure long enough not to roll his eyes. He looked down at his hands and pressed his thumb against the back of a knuckle, giving the joint a light crack with some pressure and then moving along to the next finger. While he did this, he sauntered lazily up the centre alley of the church. "Oh, we're never by ourselves in the House of God, are we?"
Lenny tilted his head to the side, sizing the other man up with a flicker of his eyelashes before offering Matthew a cursory smile that didn't quite manage to wipe the disinterest from the Pope's gaze.
"You're from New York, aren't you? I can tell by your accent. I used to live there. You know - St. Patrick's Cathedral, Archbishop of New York City. I sure as hell miss it sometimes. Do you know how fucking hard it is to get a decent thin crust Brooklyn pizza in the Vatican?" He'd chuckle, more for his own benefit than because he had someone to talk to. "And I know, I know, Italy, right? The irony is not lost on me."