Chapter 4: Morning Regrets
Luca woke tangled in sheets and regret. Sunlight stabbed through the curtains, slicing across his face like an accusation.
His head throbbed in waves, mouth dry as chalk. His mouth tasted like cotton, and his head throbbed in slow, pulsing beats.
He reached blindly for his phone, fingers brushing the edge of the nightstand until he grabbed it. One squinting eye cracked open.
9:02 AM
"Shit," he muttered, shooting upright.
Panic flushed through his chest as he sprang to his feet. A sock clung to his arm, one shoe halfway under the bed.
He didn’t bother with a full outfit—just a loose white shirt, half-buttoned, black jeans, and the same jacket from last night slung over his shoulders.
His necklace jangled as he ran fingers through his messy silver-gray hair, trying to make it look less like a disaster.
The other bed was already neatly made. Noel’s side. Empty.
Figures.
He skipped brushing his teeth and bolted out the door, his phone still in hand.