The Morning After
The next morning, Vincenzo woke up with a pounding headache. He found himself lying on the cold balcony floor. He blinked against the sunlight, sat up slowly, and rubbed his temples. For a second, he didn’t understand how he got there.
Then it all came rushing back; the touching, the drinking, the way she looked at him last night without fear. Seraphina had gotten under his skin.
“Damn you, Seraphina,” he muttered under his breath.
He pulled himself to his feet and staggered inside, reaching for the cabinet where he kept hangover pills. He freshened up quickly and walked back into his bedroom.
And there she was. Lying on the bed peacefully as if nothing in the world could disturb her. Her cheek pressed gently into the pillow, her hair messy but soft, her lips slightl
