Tangled In Strings

Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Wedding?"

"Mhm. A huge, very expensive one she's always dream of organizing, right down to what dress is on your body."

"Alright, I'm getting nervous. Are we joking still?"

He grabs my hand and kisses my knuckles. "We don't have to do a single thing for her."

"Well, a wedding would be publicity," I say after a minute. And he looks down at me. I smile slowly, my brain churning with sudden ideas. "I mean, if you designed the dress, people wouldn't be able to stop talking about it—"

"This is the wedding that matters to me." He stops, pulling me close. He runs his hands over my hair. "That being said, I'll marry you as many times as you allow me to."

I lean into him, pressing my head into his chest. His arms wrap around my shoulders, and he sighs comfortably. He smells like a fresh shower, powerfully fragrant soap. His skin is soft and much paler than it usually is. The waterfalls are strong and loud, even a good distance away.

I huff to myself and he begins to pull back. "You've always had a way with words, haven't you?"

When my legs move, his do too, and we're both continuing along the path. He grins.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. You always had the right words, knew exactly what to say and do, from the very start."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

I chuckle. "Sure you don't. Casanova."

His features are unmarred by any distress, brightening even in this dim light. His smile is dauntingly large and wide, which warms my body completely, heel to head.

"Do you ever think about the beginning?" I ask.

"Of us?"

I nod.

"Sure...Why?"

"No real reason. Sometimes I like to think how hard we thought it was, when in reality, we didn't even know difficult. It's every enlightening."

He laughs. "Yes, I can't disagree with you there."

"It's crazy how different those people were. We were fun."

"We're still those people," he says without a trace of regret, or insult by my musings. I glance over at him, chuckling. I'm not sure if he even believes that, or if he's just saying it in a knee-jerk reaction, but either way, I don't want to make him think I love that version of him more than the one in front of me now.

"Maybe. Yeah, a bit. You mostly."

Giovanni doesn't reply to that, and we just concentrate on the surroundings while continuing along the path. It's a weeknight on a surprisingly chilly night, which is why this place is probably so deserted. When he slips his hand into mine, I move closer to him, appreciating the warmth he radiates.

"It's getting chilly," he says, conversationally. I nod, eyeing the buildings coming up. He points out to the falls.

"There is a cave over there that fell apart. They do trips to it during the day."

"What? Down there?"

He nods as I lean into the railing, peering down at the darkness. "Yes, you have to wear disposable shoes, raincoat. You get soaked. You take an elevator down."

"And it isn't dangerous?"

He moves behind me, grasping onto the railing on both sides of me. "No, people do it all the time."