'Open your eyes.’ My eyelids fluttered open as I took in the awe-inspiring landscape. Even my heart had stopped to take in this majestic aspect of Rome. After watching the movies Eat Pray Love, The Pink Panther 2 and The Lizzie McGuire Movie, I’ve always dreamed about stepping into the bustling streets of Italy’s capital city.
Inhaling the aroma of fresh oven pizza that wafted from around the corner mixed with the smell of a cigarette one of the locals was smoking, combine that with a breath taking view of the Spanish Steps underneath the baby blue sky accompanied by the many different sounds that involved beeping horns and Italian citizens communicating with each other in loud, quick sentences made me instantly fall in love with it.
I had lived in cities all my life, so I was used to the droning of airplanes flying over my building. I didn’t mind at all that cities were always busy, which is probably what I best loved about them, especially at night – where I would watch cars zoom across the highways under the looming skyscrapers from my apartment window.
‘What do you think?’
‘I think I’m going to have the most amazingest day yet!’ The sun glowed down on me, officially welcoming me to the city. It was 30 degrees so it was the perfect weather to be spending outside.
‘Where to?’ asked Harry, linking his arm through mine.
‘Anywhere!’
‘I might know a place that you’d might like.’We headed for the Piazza di Spagna Rome, making a right and walking for ten minutes on the surprisingly clean streets. Making a right, we stopped at a quaint little restaurant that wasn’t too busy and was shaded by the lemon trees dotted along the street. Instead of sitting inside, we chose to sit outside to enjoy the cool breeze that was drifting along. It billowed the top of the patio umbrella as a twenty-year-old brunette waitress gave us the menus.
‘Please don’t tell me you’re having a salad,’ Harry said, watching my eyes light up at the photos of the food displayed in front of me.
‘Ew, I hate salad. I’m having my favourite – spaghetti bolognese!’ I licked my lips, my mouth drooling as I pictured myself eating the succulent pasta with its sauce with its meatballs and drizzled cheese. ‘What are you having?’
‘I’m having soup and a margerita pizza. Apparently, the tradition here is you’re supposed to eat an appetizer. So I’ve ordered bruschette for us,’ he called for the waiter, who took down our orders in less than ten seconds.
‘Is that all?’ she asked, taking our menus.
‘Oh, and due cappuccini per favore,’ Harry politely requested, holding up two fingers.
‘You speak very good Italian,’ she smiled, walking back into the restaurant.
‘I’m officially turned on, seeing as people argue that the Italian language is the most romantic when it’s actually French. What was that anyway?’ I demanded, my mind not trusting what I just experienced.
‘I picked up a few words here and there.’
‘Harry.’
‘Well, when the boys and I went over to Italy for some promotion, I picked up a few words here and there.’
'So you know some Italian and of course, English. What else do you know?'
'Well, I think I still remember some French from A Levels,' he explained, taking a chunk out of a piece of bruschette that the waitress had now served, together with the cappucinos. ‘Oh my god! You have to try this – it is so good!’ Harry said, brandishing it near my mouth. I tentatively took a bite, chewing thoughtfully and figuring out whether the tomato with fresh basil or the garlic bread was the best bit.
YOU ARE READING
Just Love
Fanfiction‘Three words, eight letters. Say it and I’m yours.’ ‘What?’ I hissed, my eyes narrowing. ‘You heard me,’ he calmly replied. He wasn’t serious. But the fierce expression on his face told me otherwise. My teeth clenched together so tightly my jaw...
