It Began In Italy | ✔️

Chapter Nineteen

"Usual spot?" Sofia asks and everyone gives their signs of agreement.

Following everyone else, they move between an opening in the trees. We'd been on the boat for a few hours, my legs could use the exercise to get some blood flow back into them. It felt as though they could collapse at any moment in time.

Keeping my eyes trained on the floor, to decrease any possibilities of landing flat on my face, I drown out the mindless conversation. Letting the sounds of nature invade my senses.

Eventually, we reached a camp of sorts, an ash circle in the middle of a few tents - telling me this spot was frequently used. "We're camping here?" I turn to Nico. That was something he had failed to mention.

Nico flashes a smile. "I didn't know if you were the adventurous type so... I may have left out a few details."

I regret not dunking that smug grin under the water.

"First we roast marshmallows!" Sofia calls, grabbing the box that I hadn't realised Maria was carrying. Sofia had a very youthful energy about her, I envied it.

Nico sits down on the log behind us as Luca goes off to find some firewood. Perching beside him, I think about our current situation. The idea of camping on an island in the middle of the ocean is slightly unnerving.

"Shots?" Maria questions before grabbing a plethora of red cups and a bottle of liquor. Internally, I cringe. I've had enough alcohol to last me a lifetime.

As the liquor bottle is passed around, Nico tips his head back and I watch his Adam's-apple bob as the liquid slips down his throat. His eyebrows furrow in distaste and I stifle a laugh. Passing the bottle to me, I hold up my hands in protest. Several boos of disappointment sound around me and I almost cave.

Instead, I remain strong-headed and take the bottle and pass it to Matteo. "Not drinking, Heidi?" he questions and I shake my head.

"My liver needs a break," I attempt to make it sound like a joke and he shrugs. Attempt: failed.

The small circle continues this sequence until they are happily tipsy - the alcohol taking full effect. Everyone is a laughing mess when Luca comes back with the firewood. I hadn't realised the chill in the air until the flames sparked, warming my skin.

Nico's arm found its way around my shoulders and I leaned into him - resting my head against the crook of his neck. Again, weird.

The marshmallows were dished out, as well as sticks to roast them on. Nico immediately plunges his into the fire and I watch his inexperience result in the marshmallow becoming crispy and burned.

Huffing, I grab his stick, pushing a new marshmallow onto the sharp point. "You're doing it wrong," I state and Nico scoffs.

"Okay, show me how it's done s'more expert," Nico mocks me and I roll my eyes.

"Don't put it directly into the fire, it'll burn. Angle it towards the edge," I say, whilst demonstrating. "When it's golden or brown take it away. Then, you peel the top off, eat that, and then you have a yummy melted marshmallow beneath."

Pushing the stick towards Nico's mouth, his mouth wraps around the marshmallow before eating it. "So sweet."

Slapping a hand over my face in pure embarrassment, I wish to rid the world of the word sweet. Maria makes signs of distress as she burns yet another.

"This is so stupid. They just keep turning into a burned mess," Maria huffs before she takes another swig of the drink, again passing the bottle. Bright smiles appear on everyone's faces at Maria's annoyance.

"It doesn't take brain cells to roast a marshmallow, Maria," Luca laughs and she throws him a glare. "To make up for your awful roasting, you must take another shot!" he shouts and we all cheer her on as if Maria couldn't do this in her sleep.

She takes a big gulp and I almost can feel the taste in my mouth and the burn in my throat. Her face remains neutral before a big smile takes its place.

This woman never fails to amaze me.

"Everyone takes a shot for their bad roasting," Maria points and Nico shrugs - as if to say fair enough. I, however, object. My roasting is perfectly fine, thank you. Great, even.

We all continue to drink and roast the marshmallows and I end up roasting them for everyone. They all line up  as they wait for me to hand them the gooey mess on the end of the stick. You wouldn't expect this from twenty-year-olds. I laugh at the matter.

By the time the sun began to descent, everyone was dancing around the bonfire in a whirlwind as the music flowed into the night air out of the small speaker Sofia had fished out of her bag. To anyone else, I'm sure this would look like a ritual of sorts. Nico's hands brush over my body in a shamble, his eyes glazed, telling me the extent of his drunkenness.

"Don't leave," he slurs and I shake my head.

"I have to... I have a life back home, friends, a Masters degree waiting for me. If things were different..." I trail off. Someone needs to be the voice of reason here and, surprisingly, it's me.

Nico's glossy eyes meet mine, his hands growing tighter on me. "The thought of you with someone else... with someone like that dick, Ambrose. It does things to me, it blinds me with rage."

Right there and then, I make a promise. A promise to a guy who may completely forget about me in three years time, who may move on and let me live in a distant memory. A promise of a future with a guy I met not a week ago.

"In three years, I'll come back. I'll come back to Vernazza, to you."

A moment of pure silence stretches between us and dread fills me as I regret saying anything at all. "Are you trying to kill me?" Nico whispers and I shake my head, emotion curdling within me.

"I'm admitting my defeat," I huff. Nico was right, I'm only delaying the inevitable. We have two weeks that we can either spend in pure bliss or pure ignorance. For once in my life, I choose myself. I choose what I want.

I want him.

There's not denying it any longer. "Your defeat?" A smile finally makes an appearance across his lips. Feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks, I attempt to look away, but Nico's fingers wrap around my chin - forcing me to look at him.

I'm about to respond until the both of us are pulled apart, Matteo dragging Nico away and Luca, me. The worst timing in the history of the universe.

"You two lovebirds need some time apart, we're all third wheeling," Luca laughs when there's a sizeable distance between Nico and I. Twisting me around, I give him a sarcastic smile.

"Do you not have anyone you could've brought along?" I ask, genuinely wondering. Luca shakes his head, a distant smile taking over his lips.

"No, but there is someone I wouldn't mind sharing my tent with tonight..." Luca trails off before reaching his hand out to me, brushing his fingers against my arm. "I'm sure Nico wouldn't mind sharing."

I laugh. I laugh straight in his face at the joke. Only when I recover, his face is slack and emotionless. "You're joking?" I ask and he rolls his eyes, moving closer.

Leaning towards me, his breath fans across my cheek - I take a step back. "I know you feel it too. I see the way your eyes linger, the way you look at me. Just try it out, no strings attached. I'll make you feel better than he ever will."

With my mouth agape, I find it difficult to express the level of shock flowing through me. "I think you may have got mixed sig-" I'm cut off when his lips are forced against mine, his mouth tasting like cigarettes and stale beer. Immediately, pushing him off me, I wipe my lips with the back of my hand. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I breathe.

Before he can utter another word, he's tackled to the floor and a powerful blow hits his jaw.