Teo walked slowly into the kitchen but saw Milo in the dining room instead. He stopped and walked there. His shoes made a quiet, hesitant sound. His shoulders were hunched, and his eyes stayed down.
He stopped three feet from the edge of the table, his hands twisting the fabric of his trousers. He was so nervous. He was sure Milo would kill him. But he had to be brave and accept it if Milo really hated him.
After all, he had made a big mistake.
Milo was sitting in a chair near the head of the table, a cup of warm tea between his palms as he waited for Salvatore.
When he saw the shadow cross the threshold, he looked up, his hazel eyes widening in sudden shock.
"Teo!" Milo said, his voice rising as he set his cup down with a soft rattle.
Teo didn't lift his head. The deep guilt on his face was absolute, his cheeks turning a tight, uncomfortable red.
