After entering his room, Rafael leaned against the door for a while, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. Exhaustion overtook him quickly, and soon he slipped into sleep, still sitting against the door.
Back in the dining room, Marco finished his meal, massaging his forehead with his fingers, tired from the relentless stress he had put himself under.
He sighed deeply, knowing he needed sleep. The only way he could truly rest, however, was if Rafael would give him one of his expert massages.
Marco knew Rafael was obligated to answer his call due to the clause in their agreement, but he didn't want to bother him—didn't want to trouble him more than necessary.
Reluctantly, Marco stood and walked towards the staircase leading to the rooms. As he climbed, a wave of dizziness hit him, causing him to almost miss a step as his vision blurred.
"Fuck..." he muttered, gripping the banister as a sharp headache throbbed behind his temples.
