Joe turned off the tap, cupped his hands and splashed himself in an attempt to wake up. Again. And again. He gave a hearty sigh, shaking his head, water dripping down his face. He glanced at his floating reflection in the pooled basin. Drip. Drip. Drip. He was changed. One day your journey took you this way, the next you're walking down that same path. Backwards. And naked.

It was an old, sometimes odd taste. Especially when you hadn't touched it for a while. The mirror looked the same. The same pane of glass to capture the ego every morning. The same basin used to enliven the mind for the day ahead. What was staring back at him though, was different. The hard edged look, was gone.

Replaced, were a new set of eyes. A softer, more tender kind. More spacious, with a depth that you could swim in and a dazzling light that could rival a full moon. Now, he saw them everywhere. In a crowd full of people, he searched them out. He'd spot them in a reflection, shimmering off a pond. They blinked at him from behind every pair, like the nights first star.

As Joe looked down at Leo, there they were again. Staring back at him in his puppy love. This time he recognized it more consciously, the wide smirk on his face making the doberman even more excited, as Joe usually looked this way before they'd leave the loft every morning, and before Leo was let free to explore.

All throughout his days it was to be the same thing. He'd be there, but not really. Always a thought away, somewhere else. And in his interactions with others, they'd appear now and then, when Joe was comfortably relaxed, letting his mind ease away from calculating and straight lines. His old pals always helped him see them too, whether scotch, bourbon or tequila, they all got him a glimpse.

When it came time to go home, he imagined seeing them as breathtaking as the splash of colors dusk was painting the sky with, and what seemed to have the same taste to it, a little sweet like honey. And every night when the day had come and gone, Joe would savor one last taste before slipping into the dream state.

With her arms now around his neck, Joe looked into the mirror, petting Leo on the head. And there they were, once again, looking back at him. His days were full because she was in it. In everything he experienced, she was somehow there. In thought. In heart. Once upon a time all he could see were fragments of his pain. Now, he couldn't escape a moment not seeing Ilaria's smile, breaking through the cracks, lighting up his world. It became his compass. Her soulful gleam, his guiding light.

Joe traced his finger across the mirror as he looked at Ilaria_Santoro. Ti Amo.