The Next Day....
Rome woke up to the heaviness of a man who had fought battles in his sleep.
For a moment, he didn't even know where he was. The ceiling above him was a blurry sheet of white, swimming in and out of focus as his vision tried to adjust.
His head pounded in painfully. The room smelled faintly of alcohol, cold air, and exhaustion scents that clung to him.
A dull ache throbbed behind his eyes, pulsing like a reminder of what happened the night before.
He blinked once. Twice. And the memories rushed back.
Rome shut his eyes tightly, as if darkness could erase the words that had carved themselves into his mind. But nothing disappeared. Everything stayed. Everything hurt.
He turned his head to the side, and the sight that greeted him only made his chest tighten further.
