With All My Love And More

Scaredy Cat

© 2024 [CCBubs]

Venice, Italy

April 19

The water swayed, undisturbed and calm. A clear contrast from hours before. I had escaped back to the hotel room after having felt overwhelmed by the amounts of tourists and natives. Only at the sight of midnight on the digital clock sitting atop the hotel coffee table did I dare to venture out my sanctuary again. Now, I stood at one of the many bridges watching the water sway back and forth peacefully. No screaming, no shouting, just the very core of Italy in all it's beauty. No reminders of the fact I was turning 25 and had yet to fall in love. A sad reality I keep trying to tune out. How can someone live 25 years and never be given the chance to fall in love? Midnight. It's officially my birthday.

"You're such a sad girl," I groaned staring at myself in the petals into the water, "You made a promise to yourself. These two weeks, you're going to do what you're scared of. No such thing as no, no such thing as no." I tossed the rest of the rose into the water before pressing my right palm against my chest, "I, Chance, am going to fall in love if I have the die trying!"

"BASTA!" (ENOUGH!)

I flinched as a man slammed close his wooden shutters cursing me out in more Italian I did not understand. "Oops," I blushed tucking my hair behind my ears, "I didn't think anyone was listening."

"It's Italy, principessa, everyone is listening."

"OH GAWD," I screamed at the top of my lungs jumping forward almost falling over the bridge. Two large hands took a hold of my waist pulling me against a firm chest. All the buildings spun around me before only a white crisp dress shirt was facing me. Jesus this man is tan for the gods. I shut my mouth scared as hell that I'd start dribbling all over this...this Adonis. His dress shirt is far too unbuttoned. It should be illegal how tanned and muscular this man is. Illegal! This man's body is made for one sole purpose, to exude sex.

"Are you okay, principessa?" Jesus, even his voice is made out of sex.

I craned my neck back to look up at him. "Well that's just not fair." He looks like a God himself. Was he born...or created? How the hell does someone look like this? His brown eyes shined, even in the dark, with amusement as he watched me gawk at him. God, what does he think of me?

I just want to drag my tongue over his jawline and see if it cuts me. ....Is that too much?

"What's not fair," he asked. God. If he keeps speaking I'm going to purposely throw myself off this bridge.

I poke his chest, taking a big step back, taking him in all of his glory. My finger poke his chest once more for good measure. Yup, he is definitely firm. "You shouldn't just scare a girl like that, even if you have a face like yours."

"Pardon?"

"You may be very handsome, but even a handsome man can be a pervert." I crossed my arms over my chest with a nod of my head. That'll teach him to behave properly the next time. I took a quick glance at what he was wearing. Definitely nice clothes. Fitted well. He must have come from an event? He had a bow tie loosely resting open on his shoulders and his tux jacket held firmly in his right hand. A black tie event? That would make sense. This man just screams money and pomp. He has definitely never worried about money. Or perhaps it is all just an act? Who knows? He could be a serial killer for all I know.

He chuckled looking down at his attire, "I can assure you, I am not a...pervert, as you Americans say."

"What makes you think I'm American? I could be...British," I raised my nose, "Don't assume things sir," I proceeded to fake a terrible British accent.