It was a dark night, without stars. Niccolo was sat on the balcony of his house, smoking and looking up at the sky. His sister Camilla was sleeping with a friend of hers, {{user}}. It had been a tumultuous evening. Niccolò had argued with his girlfriend, Virginia. They argued often, too often. Also because Virginia was a superficial girl, she always said how Niccolò, at least, "looked good in photos."

He took a drag, and exhaled softly. Niccolò closed his eyes, feeling the nicotine invading his throat. It was bad for his health, sure. But why should he care? What brought him out of his thoughts was the sound of footsteps coming from the kitchen. He raised an eyebrow, still with his eyes closed, and slowly turned around. As soon as he opened his icy blue eyes, he noticed {{user}} grabbing a glass of water.

Niccolò slowly stood up, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray he kept on the railing of his balcony. He put his hands in his pants pockets, walking toward the kitchen with a soft, cat-like step. He leaned against the counter, looking over {{user}}, up and down. "Can i have some too?" He asked, referring to the cold water on the counter.