With All My Love And More

Will you have my head if I say no?

© 2024 [CCBubs]

You know that heavy weight that forms in the pit of your stomach when a memory of something so embarrassing creeps back into your mind? The one memory that makes your skin crawl and hair stand up to full salute. You know exactly what I'm talking about, those terrible, most embarrassing flashbacks that make you squeeze her eyes shut and shake your head furiously in hopes it'll disappear forever.

I had been taken to the opera to see firsthand in a private stage two of some of the greatest opera singers in Italy, and I fell asleep. I fucking fell asleep. And I don't just "fall asleep". That's not how my genetic background is coded. I am not some Princess who sleeps with her mouth closed and breathes softly, almost dead like. Yeah, no. No one has ever looked at me asleep and mistaken it for being dead, and if they, they would assume it was brutal murder.

No, I sleep with eyes slightly cracked open, mouth wide open with drool falling not in just one corner of my mouth, but rather both. Oh, and don't forget the loud, almost choking like snores I make along with the good old chewing.

Yeah, that's how I sleep.

So, what I thought was going to be such a beautiful memory to store away in my memories for years to come when I wish to think of Italy, has now become that very, very, very embarrassing flashback that sneaks up on you in the most public of places. Yeah, fuck my life.

I couldn't even look at him. I couldn't bear to see that smile, because as much as I knew it would create a million butterflies in my tummy, it was also going to seal the deal on what I would call the Chance effect on anything romantic. My little sister would call it the black hole effect.

"You talk in your sleep, you know," he whispered.

"Do I," I muttered through clenched teeth. His voice was way too amused for my liking. He was enjoying me making a god damn fool of myself.

"You were saying my name," he mumbled, "Sadly, it was Giovanni, not Gio, but I am pleased nonetheless."

"Wait, wait, wait!" I finally looked at him, ignoring the millions of butterflies now erupting in my stomach. "I was not saying your name, there's no way."

"How would you know? You, my dear, were snoring your little nose off during the Primo Uomo's song. I must say, he was very embarrassed. Who would have thought snoring could destroy one man's very identity," he chuckled. "For a moment, your snores and chewing went along with the chorus of the song, you forgot to tell me you had such talent," he rubbed his face in pure delight, trying miserably to cover up his laughter.

"This is not funny," I hit his arm, cracking up as well. Oh god, that poor man. He must think I'm a terrible person. "I didn't get much sleep last night...I have to apologize to him."

"Impossible, he is on a flight to Palermo for a performance. Don't worry I apologized for you, not to be full of myself, but I do believe an apology from me is sufficient enough," he smirked leaning closer to me. His hand took my jaw as his thumb stroked gently under my eyes. "I could tell you were tired when I came to get you, but I do not believe anyone should spend their birthday, such an important day, all alone." He brushed a strand of my hair behind my ear taking me in, his eyes touching every part of me, "And today, my dear," he sighed, sounding a little disappointed, "I have only realized just how momentous a day it is."

What did that mean? Why would my birthday be so momentous to him? Did I miss something? He pressed his forehead against mine, "Don't worry, you only slept for two hours, the day is still young. Care to join me on a picnic?"

He must have watched every freaking romance film to date since he was a child, while I was in my diapers watching Barney and Rugrats. I leaned in closer wanting to plant him into my memory so that when I'm having a shitty day back home in America I can look back on this moment when a freaking King asked me to go on a picnic with him, "You really are something."