SERA
Somewhere within the winding canals and ornate architecture of Venice, Cupid reigns supreme. The city's reputation for being a haven for love stories and legends is well-deserved, with tales like the fabled love story of Maria Del Ponte de le Maravegie and the mythic Bridge of Sighs. I can feel the lingering magic of past love affairs and the promise of new ones to come.
The edge of my white dress flutters, mimicking the playful gusts of wind as my heels create a rhythm on the paving stones. The pleasant embrace of the radiant and warm sunlight prickles on my fair skin. The way the water moves in a brilliant gleam from the sunlight reflecting off of it makes me feel as though I've entered a fairy tale. Inhaling deeply, I'm enveloped in a serene sense of peace as I stroll through the enchanting City of Canals.
A tender smile tugs at my lips as an elderly couple passes by, their intertwined hands a roadmap of life etched into wrinkled skin. The man, with a head of hair dusted silver, glances at his wife with adoration in his eyes, planting a gentle kiss on the back of her hand. Her face lights up with joy, and her eyes twinkle like diamonds in the morning light.
As they disappear into the labyrinthine alleyways, I can't help but wonder about their story. How many years have they been together? How have they kept their love burning brightly all these years? And most importantly, will I ever find a love that is as pure and enduring as theirs? The lingering warmth of their embrace hangs in the air, a silent promise that true love, like a fine wine, only gets better with time.
I wander through the old streets, feeling the weight of history, art, and character all around me. In a quiet corner, I spot a cozy flower shop that immediately catches my eye. Intrigued, I step up and feel instantly drawn to a beautiful display of flowers in white buckets. I ignore most of them until I spot my favorites—a bundle of pristine white roses. I pluck them from their container, savoring their delicate fragrance while closing my eyes. Memories of my late mother flood my mind, and I'm filled with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia.
My eyes flutter open, and I come face to face with a pair of intense, dark chestnut eyes staring back at me. In this moment, time seems to stand still as we stare at each other amidst the sea of lovely blooms and the gentle caress of sunlight and breeze. It's just the two of us.
Is this man standing before me, Cupid, in disguise?
My heart races as I take in every detail of his captivating features. His eyes seem to hold secrets and mysteries that I want to unravel. Every time his gaze falls on me, it feels like an electric shock running through my body. He is the epitome of sinfully good looks, a perfect blend of rugged masculinity and refined elegance. My fingers itch to capture his image forever with a camera, to immortalize his irresistible charm.
His dark hair, the color of rich espresso, is artfully mussed, as if he raked his fingers through it in a moment of exasperation. And then there's his suit—a sharp, tailored suit in the blackest black, clinging to his broad shoulders and muscular frame like a second skin. He looks like he stepped straight out of a dream, or perhaps the pages of a high-end men's magazine. If they had a category for "Most Breathtaking Man Alive," there's no doubt he'd be on the cover.
A sudden spark flickers in his piercing eyes, and that spark ignites a slow smirk across his lips, a smirk that sends a jolt straight to my gut. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I rip my gaze away, suddenly far too interested in the vibrant display of lilies before me. Even as I pretend to be unconcerned, my traitorous body turns against me. I can feel the pull of his magnetic presence, a physical weight that holds me in place despite every fiber of my being telling me to leave.
I can feel his intense gaze following my every move. I trace a delicate fingertip across the silky petals of an orange lily, hoping my beating heart will slow. I steal a glance at him from the corner of my eye, only to find him staring down at the flower display as he comes around the other side. His brow slightly furrows in what appears to be genuine indecision.
YOU ARE READING
Petals & Bullets
RomanceSeraphine's world around her starts to crumble and fall into the hands of people she calls family. When she thinks everyone is against her, she meets a mysterious man who's like a moth to her flame. Luca Di Vittorio, an Italian mafia don, is prepare...
