“Looks like rain,” Rune said, wrapping his arms around Yori’s shoulders.

Yori scowled. He looked up at the sky. There were no clouds in sight, just the inky blackness of night, scattered with thousands of stars. “No, it doesn’t,” he said.

Rune chuckled. “Not out there, Bellissima,” he said.

“What?” Yori turned around and, as he saw Rune, his eyes widened. A faint flush of color spread over his cheeks. “Oh,” he said. He never understood that particular euphemism.