With a cat-eyed grin, Ilaria pulled on the bread until a nice chunk popped off.

"Quite a pair."

What Ilaria thought was going to be another quiet, lonely night in an unfamiliar town had turned into anything but. Rather than a cup of coffee for dinner while staring out the window of her little room, she found herself--literally--breaking bread with someone whose company she truly enjoyed. A man, no less. Twenty-five year old Ilaria would have been too awkward and nervous to form an entire sentence around a man; and up until this point, she wasn't even sure that had changed. Maybe it was just Joe - his laid back personality, and that charming smile she could now see clearly since the alcohol and adrenaline had worn off. 

That was when she realized she was staring at him with a silly little grin on her face. Ah, there was the old, awkward girl. Ilaria popped up from her chair and started clearing dishes. 

"How are you feeling? Any pain?" 

​​​​

There was that word. Pain. He'd lived long enough to learn to endure it, in many of its multifaceted forms. For a moment there though, he couldn't remember the last time he was feeling anything but. Maybe it was because he'd become more focused on his hostess than himself. It kind of worked that way, didn't it?

His eyes dropped as he heard her ask how he was feeling, as she began moving about. She didn't seem to be the awkward type until now. And he didn't seem to care much for how she was acting, until now. It made him smile, though, as he gawked at the table.

What he really wanted to say was, 'What is pain?'. What he ended up saying was something entirely different, and even unexpected to him.

"I best be going."

His eyes eventually lifted up and with it his head. He looked over to see what Ilaria was doing before standing up of his own accord. He also wanted to say 'I owe you more than my life. I owe you my soul.' But even he wasn't that clued in to know it. And maybe he never would be. He did know he owed her a great debt of some sort, and he'd already taken a mental note to not let it go unpaid.

"I'll make sure you get compensated well for your work here."

He was a shallow prick at times. Money? Really? He should've learned that lesson at Vela's funeral. But it's all he could now express. The sudden withdrawal of Ilaria's energy had him back where he usually found himself most nights. Alone, in his own self-seeking. And he began acting the same way. Closed off.

Ilaria turned to him as he stood. The change in the mood was palpable, and she knew it was the result of her situational 180. This night would end with Joe leaving, and Ilaria skulking off to bed, wondering why she couldn't be more relaxed. But what could she do with her soapy hands and emotionally stunted confusion?  He was leaving - heading for the kitchen door to the hallway. 

"I don't want you to..."

The words tumbled out of her mouth faster than her brain could formulate something better. She felt her cheeks burn pink, which she tried to cover by casually pushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear - which resulted in a little patch of soap suds on her cheek she didn't know was there. 

Her eyes met his, searching for a reaction she hoped wasn't as awkward as she felt. 

​​​​​

Joe paused a moment as he heard her say those words every man wanted to hear. And what he was hoping she would. "I don't want you to..."

As he turned back, he first noticed Ilaria's eyes. He couldn't help but stare into them. He felt like they were sucking him in. Or maybe he was searching for something. The pain from his arm was actually more noticeable now than it had been all along, as blood was pumping more and more throughout his body. His heart was beating quickly. He could feel it, almost hear it.

He stepped forward towards her, not really knowing if this was the best thing to do or not. But he didn't want to be alone again. Not now, with all the liquor out of his system. He needed something, another crutch maybe. Or just something different entirely. She had turned out to be more than he could have anticipated, with her extracurricular activities. But it wasn't just that. It was her sweetness. That tender affection. She truly cared. And it drew him in like he hadn't experienced in a long time.

Joe stopped right in front of her, a breath away. He finally broke eye contact, downwards, noticing the soap suds on her cheek. A smile replaced his intense gaze. It was a weird kind of moment for him. In a way it cut through all the bullshit. He was usually thinking with something much further below the belt. But right now, she'd opened up something smack bang in the center of his chest.

He smirked as he brushed his free hand across her cheek. He felt the warmth of her skin. And couldn't not notice her scent. She smelled different than the women he was use to bedding. Less intense with her perfume, maybe. Still, intoxicating in its own natural way. He used his thumb to gently rub the spot where the soap was, then turned and walked away.

He couldn't do what he usually did. He didn't have it in him. She'd touched something that wouldn't allow it. And before he changed his mind, he kept going. Out through the kitchen door and into the hallway. He left with his arm was in a sling, but with his heart somewhat freed.