Where should I sit now? On the bed, or on the sofa?
Or is it better to do it in the bathroom to avoid staining carpets and bed sheets with blood?
What about my shirt: should I take it off?
As soon as we cross the door, my audacity dies down.
I've led Leo inside as if I knew how we were going to do this, but now I have no clue how to proceed.
I glance at him, and his smile reminds me that I'm not alone. I'm not supposed to think of everything by myself.
«Come here,» he whispers, dragging me towards the bed. «Comfortable is better.»
The curtains have been closed, hiding us from the sun. The room is dark, except for a small lightbulb in a corner, attached to a table lamp.
I sit on the bed and wait as Leo observes my face from up close.
«Are you sure you want to do this?» he asks for the umpteenth time.
