Morning After

GIOVANNI'S POV The first thing I registered when consciousness dragged me back from the void was a splitting, vicious headache that felt like someone had taken a sledgehammer to my skull and then, for good measure, set the pieces on fire. I groaned, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the light that seemed determined to pierce directly through my brain. That thought cut through the fog of misery. Why was there so much light? I never left the curtains open. The darkness helped me think, so why… I forced my eyes open, squinting against the assault of morning sunlight streaming through wide-open curtains, and froze. Arya sat in the armchair by the window. She was not hovering or fidgeting. But she was sitting there with her legs tucked under her, a book in her lap, bathed in golden morning light like some sort of Renaissance painting. She looked up when I moved, and our eyes met across the room. For a long moment, neither of us spoke. My mind raced, trying