“Are you insane?”
No, he isn’t. Reckless, maybe.
He really shouldn’t have gone looking for a fight with those homophobes. But he’s fucking tired of listening to their sniggering and their insults just because Martino and Niccolò dared to sit next to each other.
They don’t even feel comfortable enough to hold each other’s hand, in public. Long gone are those carefree days in which they make out in the middle of a bar, right in front of everyone. And that’s not fair.
What was he supposed to do? Just let them do whatever they pleased, let them walk all over his friends? No way.
So what if he ended up with a bloody nose, a split lip and bruised ribs? Totally worth it. Marti and Nico were safe.
“Don’t say a word, you idiot. What if they had a knife, huh?” Well, this is not how he’d have pictured his first talk with Filippo Sava.
He usually didn’t care that much what other people thought of him, but being scolded by the older guy left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Elia needed to make him forget about tonight, to impress him and change his mind about what an idiot he was. To repay Filo for nursing him back to health.
Maybe Incanti could help. He did win him over, in the end, didn’t he?