[Nero outright smiles, pleased at his success. Part of him wondered if the book might be kind of basic for somebody who reads as much as Vergil-- like buying the equivalent of a kindergartner's first poetry book for a lifelong enthusiast, or something.

He's taking a sip of water when Vergil slyly suggests he could have read it beforehand, and mentions his prior, secretive snooping around the books at the apartment. Now that they live in Vergil's room he's not touched them much. But it's not really that he was sneaking them...

He swallows gingerly.] I tried to. Same as I tried all your other poetry books. [He purses his lips a bit, then shrugs a little sheepishly.] Afraid they all make the same amount of sense to me. Which is, not much. But I've never been a real great reader when it comes to the fancy stuff.