If Luca had been the Sun, Giulio would have chosen in every life to be his Icarus - flying too close to his lover, he would have smiled as he fell.

Rome was cold at night, even under the layers of the sweatshirt Luca had placed gently on his shoulders.

‘What do you want to do?’ his friend asked, with his back to him. The scar his bite had left was still visible - just above his collarbone.

Giulio...