LETTER
Sicilian Residence – Morning After The Sicilian villa basked under the golden glow of the Mediterranean morning. Everything looked serene — too serene — except for Giovannie, who had already changed outfits thrice, sipped half a cup of espresso, and rearranged the fresh flower vase on the side table… twice. He stood in front of the mirror now, fiddling with the buttons of his crisp white shirt, his tie discarded on the couch. "Does this look desperate?" he asked, turning to his sister Gianna, who leaned lazily on the doorway, sipping from her coffee cup. Gianna raised a brow, unimpressed. “You’ve been pacing like a teenage poet. Desperate was three hours ago. This is... pathetic romantic anxiety now.” From the hallway, Angelo chuckled. “I give him one more hour before he starts writin
- Writer
