A Week In Rome | AWI series |✔

» sunday

Never did I think that an airport would be such a dismal sight for my eyes. I was to say goodbye to the city of Rome, but most tragically, I was to say goodbye to Max. And that was something I could never be prepared for.

"Say the word, Max, and I'll stay." 

My hands were wrapped around the fabric of his t-shirt as I laid my head against his chest for what was to be the final time. He wove his hands into my hair, and we stood there, amidst a busy terminal, lost in one another. I breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of his cologne.

He shook his head and placed a gentle kiss on the top of my head.

"Take care of yourself, il mio amore." 

My love.

It was a phrase he'd used many times with me, and it never failed to make my heart race. I finally craned my head up to look at him, trying to memorize every golden wave in the seas of emerald.

I nodded, biting my lip to suppress tears. I tried blinking them away, but I couldn't. How was I to return to my old life after living the past week? Actually living? The people back home weren't half as alive as Max, and losing him felt like losing a part of myself I'd grown to love.

I watched as Max took off the watch that he hadn't taken off once, remaining silent as he took my wrist and gently strapped it on. I straightened it so that it was resting perfectly on the center of my wrist. I looked closer at the crystals that marked the numbers, and furrowed my eyebrows in confusion when I noticed that the time was wrong, and the hands on the clock stood still.

"Is it broken?" I asked, holding it up to show it to him. It was stuck on 3:14.

Max shook his head, chuckling. He took my hands into his.

"I stopped it when I met you, and never started it again."

Astonished. That's a word that comes close to describing how I felt when he spoke poetry to me.

His arms remained around me for as long as they could. I didn't have much time left. I could see the pain etched in his eyes, and felt it poison my blood.

"What are you looking forward to tomorrow?" I asked, my voice small. If it was any louder, it wouldn't have been steady.

"Maybe I'll give peanut butter a second try."

We laughed through our sorrows, and his arms fell from where they embraced me. He placed a sweet, lingering kiss on my forehead, and I stepped backwards.

"Will you write to me?" I asked, my heart pounding against my chest, screaming in agony that I had muted.

He nodded, a smile gracing his lips. His eyes were glazed with tears. "This isn't goodbye. Maybe I'll see you around, Amora."

His voice was shaky as he dug his hands into his pockets, the boyish grin permanent on his lips. I smiled at his words; they were too familiar. With one last look at the boy who'd found a home in my heart, I turned around.

And I walked into the airport. When I glanced over my shoulder, he was gone. My heart did drop, but I ignored it.

Max was right. I had to go back to the life I ran from. Back to my family and friends, to deal with the broken relationship I'd left behind, and back to living each day differently.

He taught me to live in a way that the world forbids. And my week of freedom was more than most people experience in a lifetime.

I ended up spending hours in the airport. My flight got delayed, and each minute I spent in the terminal was agonizing.