The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the kitchen, curling into the stillness of the morning. Antonio leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled to the forearms, one hand absent mindedly stirring the steaming mug in front of him.
At the other side of the dining table sat a small tray with a glass of water, painkillers, and a bowl of warm soup. A hangover was unpleasant, but there's no way Elosie would be escaping it so she would need it.
He scoffed realizing she was still sleeping when he couldn't get a wink of sleep. Not because of work or another threat brewing from his uncle, but because every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Felt her. Heard her.
That moan. God, that moan.
It had lodged in his head, a sound that snapped every restraint he's been summoning since she moved int
