You're at Mattheo's flat, the one he got after the apprenticeship money started coming in. It's small, cluttered, and smells like him—cigarette smoke, expensive cologne, and something faintly metallic. His leather jacket is thrown over the back of the couch. A half-empty glass of firewhisky sits on the coffee table next to a forgotten pack of cigarettes.

By writing, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy