© 2024 [CCBubs]
Venice, Italy
April 19
The water swayed, undisturbed and calm. A clear contrast from hours before. I had escaped back to the hotel room after having felt overwhelmed by the amounts of tourists and natives. Only at the sight of midnight on the digital clock sitting atop the hotel coffee table did I dare to venture out my sanctuary again. Now, I stood at one of the many bridges watching the water sway back and forth peacefully. No screaming, no shouting, just the very core of Italy in all it's beauty. No reminders of the fact I was turning 25 and had yet to fall in love. A sad reality I keep trying to tune out. How can someone live 25 years and never be given the chance to fall in love? Midnight. It's officially my birthday.
"You're such a sad girl," I groaned staring at myself in the petals into the water, "You made a promise to yourself. These two weeks, you're going to do what you're scared of. No such thing as no, no such thing as no." I tossed the rest of the rose into the water before pressing my right palm against my chest, "I, Chance, am going to fall in love if I have the die trying!"
"BASTA!" (ENOUGH!)
I flinched as a man slammed close his wooden shutters cursing me out in more Italian I did not understand. "Oops," I blushed tucking my hair behind my ears, "I didn't think anyone was listening."
"It's Italy, principessa, everyone is listening."
"OH GAWD," I screamed at the top of my lungs jumping forward almost falling over the bridge. Two large hands took a hold of my waist pulling me against a firm chest. All the buildings spun around me before only a white crisp dress shirt was facing me. Jesus this man is tan for the gods. I shut my mouth scared as hell that I'd start dribbling all over this...this Adonis. His dress shirt is far too unbuttoned. It should be illegal how tanned and muscular this man is. Illegal! This man's body is made for one sole purpose, to exude sex.
"Are you okay, principessa?" Jesus, even his voice is made out of sex.
I craned my neck back to look up at him. "Well that's just not fair." He looks like a God himself. Was he born...or created? How the hell does someone look like this? His brown eyes shined, even in the dark, with amusement as he watched me gawk at him. God, what does he think of me?
I just want to drag my tongue over his jawline and see if it cuts me. ....Is that too much?
"What's not fair," he asked. God. If he keeps speaking I'm going to purposely throw myself off this bridge.
I poke his chest, taking a big step back, taking him in all of his glory. My finger poke his chest once more for good measure. Yup, he is definitely firm. "You shouldn't just scare a girl like that, even if you have a face like yours."
"Pardon?"
"You may be very handsome, but even a handsome man can be a pervert." I crossed my arms over my chest with a nod of my head. That'll teach him to behave properly the next time. I took a quick glance at what he was wearing. Definitely nice clothes. Fitted well. He must have come from an event? He had a bow tie loosely resting open on his shoulders and his tux jacket held firmly in his right hand. A black tie event? That would make sense. This man just screams money and pomp. He has definitely never worried about money. Or perhaps it is all just an act? Who knows? He could be a serial killer for all I know.
He chuckled looking down at his attire, "I can assure you, I am not a...pervert, as you Americans say."
"What makes you think I'm American? I could be...British," I raised my nose, "Don't assume things sir," I proceeded to fake a terrible British accent.
What the fuck am I doing? An incredibly hot man is thrown before you after you pledge to the great waters of Venice, Italy that you will fall in love if you have to die trying, and you start faking a fucking British accent! Are you trying to die a virgin?
"You are definitely American," he chuckled, tilting his head to the side noticing what I was wearing. He looked around in shock before putting his tux jacket on my shoulders. "You are reckless, just like every American. What were you thinking walking around in sleeping clothes?" He was actually baffled by this. As if he had never seen a woman do this. I suppose in his circle, all the men and women swear by respectability.
"I don't appreciate you judging me," I muttered, crossing my arms over my chest. He didn't have to make me feel like I'm committing some unspeakable sin.
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, but you should know although Italy is quite beautiful, it is not safe for a woman to parade around in attire that is normally seen in the privacy of their home." He sighed stepping closer to me. His thumb and finger taking a hold of my chin and having me look up at him, "I apologize for making you upset, it wasn't my intention."
"Well now you've made me scared to walk around at night," I shouted waving my hands around. I grabbed his jacket and slid it on wrapping it tightly around my body. Of course it would have some weight to it. I wouldn't be surprised if the damn stitching was made of my diamonds. I pointed my finger up to him, "Now you have to walk me all the way to my air bnb! I demand it!"
Why the hell did you say that?
For fuck sakes Chance. Be a little more appealing.
"You demand it huh," he smirked, "I have to admit, I'm not quite accustomed to taking orders."
"Yeah," I rolled my eyes at his cocky comment, "I'm sure the King of Italy doesn't take orders from Americans." Who does this hot guy think he is, huh? Everyone takes orders. Even some filthy rich man like him.
He cocked his head, eyeing my curiously. "You don't know who I am, do you?" He looked so shocked.
"Let me guess, you're some famous actor?" I spun around pretending to faint. "Maybe a famous opera singer." I tried to sing out Con te Partiro. This earned a snort from him. "Or maybe," I paused, biting my lip in worry. I took a rather obvious dramatic step back, "You're part of the Italian Mafia?" He frowned watching my retreating figure.
"I can assure you, I am not one of any you have listed, especially not a mafioso."
I stopped my retreat letting out a deep sigh of relief. "Good thing. That would have been a waste. You're way too handsome to be running around with a gun."
He didn't say anything, but his warm smile told me he found me amusing. "Come, I will do as demanded, and walk you back to your place." I nodded my head, unable to stop from smiling. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever imagine I'd be walked back to my place by such a handsome man.
I walked alongside him looking him up and down scanning his attire. "So, did you come back from a fancy schmancy party?"
"Schmancy," he frowned.
"Yeah, shmancy...like an extremely fancy party," I explained to him.
"Oh," he pondered the word for a moment, and I'd be lying if I didn't find it quite endearing. A man so fiercely hot mulling over a silly word like schmancy. "Yes it was quite fancy and boring," he sighed. I had to say, the way he was walking was everything I imagined a GQ model would do while partaking in a photoshoot. His right hand slipped into his pocket and his left wrist sporting some watch that was named. I twisted my head trying to read the name of the watch. Patek Philippe? I think my mother has mentioned that watch before. His breathy laugh snapped me back to reality, I quickly faced forward still walking beside him. "This is, as you say, also a schmancy watch," he motioned to Patek, "Unfortunately it is a gift from my mother, so it is a little harder to get rid of."
"How schmancy," I raised a quizzical brow squinting my eyes at him. Maybe if I know the price of it, I can get a better understanding on just how rich this dude is.
"Why," he teased, "Planning on stealing from me are you?" He winked at me before facing forward, his tongue cheekily dragging against his bottom lip. God, he just oozes sex.
"You tease," I muttered.
"Scusi?"
I huffed, stopping in front of my building, it was the epitome of Venice, with beautiful ivy growing against it. I looked up to where my room is, facing the water luckily. I had left the window open. "Damn it," I whispered.
"Che cosa?" (What?)
"What?" I don't understand Italian, is that not obvious?
"What." Is he mocking me now?
"No, I'm asking you what?" I breathed, exasperated now.
"I know, and I'm answering you, what." He smirked, cocking his head to the right. He is teasing me, this beautiful jackass.
"Oh for god sake," I rolled my eyes pointing my finger into his chest, "Listen here Italian man! I do not speak a lick of Italian, so stop making me feel stupid and answer my question."
There was silence, and then the air was only filled with his laughter. I watched at first in pure anger, but was quickly caught up in just how angelic he looked when he was laughing. When he laughed, he felt it, all over. He somehow had this bright glow around him, and I dare say, anyone who was lucky enough to catch a glimpse of this would be dazzled. Mesmerized even. Wow.
"Che cosa means what," he said slowly, he let out one last laugh that was left over.
"Oh." I swear, if anyone touched my cheeks they would burn themselves. I can't believe I didn't learn a little bit of Italian before I came on this trip.
"Shall we?" He motioned for me to walk inside the building, but I quickly jumped to action.
"Hold up Casanova, I may be American, but I am not that easy. I will not be having sex with you," I blurted out.
A couple was now walking into the building. Their eyes wide with shock at what I had said. "Oh god, it's not what you think," I waved my hands to them, "I-" They hurried off inside while Mr. Italy was chuckling.
"You really do say anything that comes to your mind, but I can assure you I wouldn't do you the dishonor of assuming you are an easy woman," he smirked looking out at the water as if he was surveying his surroundings before looking back to me, "I can already tell you are far from that."
"Is that supposed to be an insult, because I'll have you know-"
"Shh," he put his finger to my lips and I silenced immediately. Electricity. Definitely electricity. Did his party include lots and lots of carpets? Or is his power to shoot electricity from his finger. Maybe he's some superhero? I looked up at him, he too was staring where his finger was pressed against my lips. "I'm going to stop you there, because I seem to have a power over you that makes you say things that you find embarrassing."
I rolled my eyes, "I guess you're right," I mumbled against his finger.
"And my name is Giovanni, not Casanova."
"Whatever," I mumbled again against his fingers. I swatted away his finger before turning to the entrance of the building walking up to the concierge desk. "Hello. Please do not let this man follow me up the elevator once I get in it by myself, okay?" The concierge looked up from his computer only to freeze in shock. His eyes trained behind me. I frowned looking behind me to Giovanni then back to the concierge.
"You...Your maj-" He was silent, squeezing his mouth shut.
I spun around catching Giovanni motioning for the concierge to hush. He dropped his finger from his mouth and looked back at me with a smile.
"Did you just tell the concierge to be quiet," I raised my brow at him.
"Yes."
Well, at least he doesn't lie.
"Care to share why, Gio?"
Giovanni looked at me with an amused expression, he was about to speak when he was cut off by a rather enraged concierge.
"Gio," the concierge shouted in anger, "How dare you address the-" I looked back at the concierge to find his head bowed down and his hands crossed in front of him like some scolded child. My eyes traveled back to Giovanni to find him staring down the concierge. It wasn't threatening, but it was belittling, as if reminding the man the difference of power between the two. "Comportati bene," although I didn't know what the hell he said, I knew by the tone, he was demanding something. Although, I'd say my tone when demanding something sounds much better than his.
"Tell me sir," I leaned in catching the concierge's attention, "Is he a gangster?"
The concierge looked confused before shaking his head, "No, not at all."
"Hm," I nodded my head. "Then who are you?" I walked across the lobby and towards the elevators.
"I could tell you, tomorrow, if you'd like." He wants to see me again, tomorrow? Really?
Okay, act cool Chance. Act cool.
"What makes you think I'd say yes to seeing a complete stranger again." Yeah, that's it Chance. Way to be cool. Keep your composure. Nice and steady.
"From what I remember from your rather loud declaration to yourself on the bridge, you swore you wouldn't say no to things that scare you," he smirked when my cheeks burned bright red again. His eyes watched in amusement the way my tan skin turned more and more red by the second, "And judging by the way your skin ressembles a tomato, it is safe to say you are scared of me. How do your people say it...a scaredy cat, no?"
"You were listening to my personal conversation to myself, you nosy butthead," I screamed.
He continued smirking at me. I can't believe he heard all of that. "So, are you going to tell me you break your promises to yourself," he teased pressing his tongue against his cheek, "Don't tell me you're not curious to know who I am?"
"I could just google you," I countered.
"Ah, I suppose you could...but that would just be too easy," he crossed his hands behind his back leaning forward. His warm breath tickled my neck as he came closer to my ear, "Especially since I plan to take you to places in Venice I'm sure all tourists aren't able to enter....and food would be included."
Food? Free food? I like food. I love food actually. "What makes you think food would be enticing, hm?"
"Don't all Americans love food?"
"Are you calling me fat," I snapped.
He chuckled, ignoring my question, "I'll pick you up in the morning, 9 on the dot." He turned around heading out, "Oh, and scaredy cat, be sure to bring a hat and sunglasses."
"Hmph," I raised my nose to him entering the elevator, "We'll see," I shouted, planning to have the last word, but of course his laugh won this time.
© 2024 [CCBubs]