Modern Cleopatra: A Summer Love Story [COMPLETE] 📔

LAST SUMMER | CHAPTER VII : New Beginnings

Cleo looked at his outstretched palm. It was perfect, just like he was, rugged and Herculean, and from her vantage point below him he reminded her of the David she had seen in Florence at the young age of fifteen on a school trip to Italy. His silhouette was practically indistinguishable from the statue itself.

"Sure." Cleo answered, forgetting her headache and the nausea that ached in her belly moments ago. She put her tiny hand in his massive, masculine one, and he helped her out of her sunbed and into the light.

No way Michelangelo's marble was this warm to touch.

"Good." He said to her, noticing she still had her T-shirt on. "I'll wait for you in the sea."

Theo crossed paths with Ana as he marched into the water, and Cleo watched them conversate for a few quick moments, unable to hear their exchange, though it seemed cordial enough. She peeled off her plain white T-shirt, revealing a simple black bikini and a tan she had been working on for the past couple of weeks that she wasn't yet totally satisfied with. Still, her olive skin had turned a rich caramel, and she tied her long dark hair up into a bun before making her way towards the water too, keeping her sunglasses on for the sake of the migraine that wouldn't leave her alone. The sun felt like fire to her skin, no doubt a side effect of the brutal hangover she was enduring.

Ana said nothing to her as they passed each other by; instead she just ignored her American cousin casually, as though they had never met before in their lives. She did it on purpose, to set Cleo at ease, and even though it worked, Cleo snorted in her direction as Ana walked away towards their umbrella. Ana whipped around and stuck her tongue out at Cleo before stalking off to her sunbed.

There were many tourists on the beach, and even some locals that afternoon, but Cleo felt like she was alone right then, slinking into the sea behind Theo Dimitriou as she watched the strong summer sun glittering off the beads of water dripping from his architectured back.

Michelangelo's marble never looked that good.

"You came." Theo said, turning around and watching her move towards him in the ocean. The sea was shallow enough for both of them to stand, and so they did, for the light blue water was warm and comfortable.

"I told you I would." Cleo answered.

They were both quiet, and she worried in that instant that she had made a terrible mistake. Alone in the water, without Anastasia, what would they even talk about?

"So," Cleo began nervously.

Theo hadn't said anything. He seemed comfortable in the silence.

Cleo wasn't.

"Were you born on the island?"

"Yes," Theo answered, smiling at the predictability of the question. He elaborated generously anyway. "I was born on the island, not far from here. Right up in those mountains; you see?"

He gestured to the right of the beach, and Cleo's eyes followed, gazing at the pastel peaks and valleys in the landscape.

"I have lived here all my life; baptized here, went to school here. My mother, she had me very young, and she raised me together with my grandmother for many years."

"What about your father?" Cleo asked. It was a question she hated being asked, but she couldn't seem to contain herself in asking him. She wanted to know everything about him.

Theo shrugged his shoulders.

"He was with my mother for a while. But he left her soon after I was born, and they seperated when I was very young. Now he is remarried, and I have half siblings. I see them often; sometimes they come and stay with me here, just for fun. They live in another village where my father owns the beach."