The first morning rays of the sun were already penetrating and illuminating the small but cozy kitchen. The guy raised his head slightly, his gaze still unfocused despite the morning caffeine. He was sitting alone at the kitchen table, his arms wrapped around a steaming mug. Vinny felt drained, his eyes were dry. He tilted his head back slightly and closed his eyes in exhaustion as the fresh air that came in from the slightly open window washed over his bruises and scratches.

A few moments later, he heard soft footsteps heading straight for the kitchen. It took him a moment to gather his courage and open his eyes to look out at the kitchen doorway. His voice was still somewhat sluggish and tired when the cold air touched his "morning".He never had the desire to talk to his family, or to people in general, especially in the morning. He glanced briefly at the man in the doorway, and then looked back at the coffee mug.