After taking a refreshing shower, Giovanni stepped out of the steamy bathroom and back into the dimly lit hotel bedroom. His hair was still damp, small droplets of water glistening on his skin and trailing down into the waistband of his jeans as he moved across the cold hardwood floor. The carpet between the bed and the dresser felt plush and soft beneath his bare feet, a comforting contrast to the chill in the air.
When he arrived at the front desk, it was immediately evident that the receptionist was trying not to give him a weird look as he was checking into a single room while giving a battered and unconscious Luciano a piggyback ride.
