I knew it was a bad idea.

My mum informed me it was a terrible idea, in fact.

I ignored it.

I stood in front of Luca's apartment at one a.m. the next morning, still drenched and shivering from making the journey from the airport to his place. I reached for the doorbell, feeling the slight tremor in my fingers, and glanced backwards at the streaks of muddy prints my boots had left on the carpet. I pulled my hoodie lower down my head, which did nothing as I was soaked through to the bone.

The door opened a few minutes later, my heart leaping to my throat when Luca appeared on the other side, still in the clothes he'd worn while leaving the estate.

"Hello," I said, my teeth chattering.

"Elliot, what—?" He reached out with one hand, pulling me into his chest and holding me close. He didn't seem to care that I would get water all over his floors and his clothes. I felt his warm mouth on top of my head before he finally leaned back and cupped my face. "Are you crazy?" he mouthed. "You're going to fall sick." He pulled my soaked luggage inside and placed it against the door, leading me into the dark living room of his apartment.

"S—so—sorry—" I managed, struggling to speak even more than usual due to the cold. "I k—know it's l—late—"

He pulled me into the bathroom, flipping on the lights and reaching for a dry towel that he used to dry my hair. He pointed at a fresh set of sweats on the counter, mouthing, "Change, now." And stepped out.

I was grateful and quickly undressed, drying myself with the towel and immediately feeling sixty percent less miserable. When I walked into the bedroom, it was bathed in a soft yellow glow and Luca sat on the edge of the mattress.

"What is going on?" he mouthed.

"I wanted to see if you were okay," I responded honestly.

"So you flew out at one in the morning? Do you not have training tomorrow? In England?"

I nodded.

"You are currently at one a.m.— in Italy."

"I am with you," I said, the other variables not really making sense in the context of the circumstances.

I went and sat beside him, turning sideways so I could see his face. "What did your agent say? Is Lucy okay?"

"Yeah," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His skin looked pale, dark circles forming under his eyes. "She is sleeping in her room. She got into this fight... bunch of stupid kids saying stupid shit about me. The articles and all."

"Oh." I placed a hand on his knee. "Your agent, what did she say?"

He stiffened up for half a second before his shoulders relaxed, and he squeezed my hand in his. "Some damage control stuff. Said the same shit as you. That the media would forget about this soon enough. That I just needed to act normal."

"How to act... normal?"

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. He reached with one hand to stroke my face, and I melted into his touch, already craving it even though it had only been hours. "You know, like... not act guilty or anything. Just behave the exact same way as I did before all this... shit."

"Okay." I nodded. "You can act normal."

"I will try," he said, turning to look away from me as he said something else. I grabbed his face, turning it so he was facing me and then pointed to my ears. "Well—" he began, "thing is, we are going to have to lay low for a while. So cannot be, like... out in public and carelessly spotted."

I nodded.

"You are okay with that? This is all till the sponsorships and all, till the contracts for those end. To sell the..." he sighed, "straight heartthrob thing."

"Why not... bisexual heartthrob thing?" I said, pointing out the logistics to him. "Wouldn't the customer base for that simply be... broader?"

He stared at me for a few seconds before breaking into a breathless chuckle. "Come here," he said, pulling me against his chest. He said something into my hair, but I wasn't sure what. He moved us so we were lying on the bed, my back pressed to his chest. He placed one hand on my waist, planting soft kisses along the shell of my ear as I shuddered pleasantly, forgetting the world outside for a few seconds.

His hand found mine, our pinkies entwining together. I waited for him to say something, but he didn't; his breathing gradually steadying till I felt the comforting rise and fall against my back. I leaned into his warmth and shut my eyes, unsure of what morning would bring, but ready to have whatever of him that he offered. Because the idea of not having him at all simply would not compute.