34 | Not Dead, Actually

◆ MILES ◆

Brichese, Italy  

I rubbed the grogginess off my tired eyes and sat up against the headboard, ignoring the sleeping naked woman snuggling under my covers.  Her arm was loosely draped over my right thigh. 

"Woman" because she told me she was 23, right before I'd asked her if I could buy her a drink. The memory provided some reassurance, somehow relieving the incessant pounding in my skull.

We didn't even spend more than ten minutes in that bar outside the bustling city—one of my cousin's highly recommended spots for surreptitious meetups, and, eventually, information-for-money type of transactions.

The girl definitely seemed interested in more than a drink on my tab, as far as I could remember. We didn't even have to use codes or anything. Unlike the first time I tried to scout for a willing snitch. She seemed quite familiar with the trade for someone as young as her.

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