[The Next day]
Leo had been lying on his bed for about ten minutes, doing absolutely nothing useful other than beating himself up for something he'd missed the previous night that had come to him.
Vittoria's words from the previous night.
The bit about her leaving unless he was going to offer her his room.
He closed his eyes.
Opened them.
And then closed them again.
"Oh," he said, to the ceiling.
He rolled over and pressed his face into the pillow for a moment, screamed and then rolled back to stare up at the ceiling again.
And as he did so, his sister, Mia, stood in his door frame, taking in the scene, which was her eighteen-year-old brother lying diagonally across his bed in yesterday's clothes, staring at nothing with the expression of someone who had just understood a joke three hours after everyone else had stopped laughing.
