The Mosaic

Chapter 62 | Chiaroscuro

Alessandro frowned to himself, then arranged his papers back into an orderly stack and placed them on the nightstand.

"What are you doing?"

Alessandro nodded at the free half of the bed. "Before I change my mind."

Giacinto perked up, a hopeful grin spreading over his face. "I wouldn't want to –"

"You're never polite, Marinos. Don't start now."

Giacinto bit back a remark – if he resisted his usual quips, he must be desperate. Alessandro's headache doubled when he saw him drop his robe in a messy pile on the floor. Was everything about this man chaos?

Alessandro stopped him before he could slip under the covers. "No knives in bed."

Giacinto wrinkled his nose.

"No."

Giacinto grumbled, but unclasped the leather straps from his thigh.

Alessandro gave him a stern look. Giacinto pulled two throwing knives out of the slippers.

When had Alessandro's constant suspicious monitoring turned into careful observation, catching the slight flinch when Giacinto moved his injured hands too quickly?

Giacinto was halfway on the bed when Alessandro clicked his tongue. "All of them."

"That was all."

"Really?" He took the Greek's wrist, rubbing his thumb over the inside, catching against the knife sewn into the hem of the shirt.

"But that's just a small one. For emergencies."

"I'm not going to get stabbed in my sleep. You startle easily. Take the knife out or the shirt off, I don't care."

"Bossy," Giacinto grumbled under his breath as he tossed the knife away and snuck under the covers, curling up in the furthest corner, just a small lump beneath the blanket "Bad night to you."

---

Alessandro jerked away to darkness – heart still hammering with another nightmare he already couldn't remember. He exhaled slowly. He was fine.

Giacinto.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows. The Greek was still in bed, as far away from Alessandro as possible, but had sat up, staring into the dark. Alessandro realized he hadn't slept at all. "Are you alright?" His voice came out deep and scruffy, thick with sleep.

"Just can't sleep," Giacinto sounded tense. "You sound like a dying walrus."

Alessandro bristled. "I'm fine."

"Sure," Giacinto snorted. "Me too."

Alessandro was quiet for a moment. "Can I help?"

"No," Giacinto snapped, too fast. He shuffled back under the blanket, curling up again. "Quiet. I'm trying to sleep."

Alessandro frowned when he laid back down. He should sleep. Giacinto was fine on his own.

Alessandro stared at the ceiling.

Dammit.

"I could get a servant to fetch you some pillows?" Alessandro remembered the Greek's horrible amassment of pillows. "Do you want something to drink, perhaps –"

"Stop talking," Giacinto bit over his shoulder. "Stop being nice to me!"

Alessandro's heart sank. "But I want to be nice to you."