giandvja

" nope. you two have to go somewhere else. " not as if he has a say in whether they could be at an establishment he doesn't own, but everything's too fresh. to show up at his workplace knowing laura could make an appearance is inconsiderate and he doesn't want to be peer pressured into giving them free rounds!

she blinks at him before flashing a glance over her shoulder, as if in search for someone else. he can't possibly be talking to her with that tone ! " the lovely thing about public spaces, " she starts, tone warm, and pointedly off-loads her handbag from her shoulder onto the bar top, " —is that none of us gets to decide who belongs in them. " least of all, alessandro. " lori is a big girl. she can manage herself, " a beat. " besides, i have plans with her tonight anyway. " she sinks into the stool, with legs tucked neatly beneath her, and offers him a smile. " a french 75, please. ace ? " @aftercure

“   you’re   coming   tonight,   right   ?   ” the  question  leaves  valentina  with  the  kind  of  brightness  that  suggests  she  has  already  decided  the  answer  for  them.  she’s  sitting  across  from  them  with  one  knee  tucked  beneath  her,  sunglasses  pushed  into  dark  hair,  a  half melted  gelato  cup  abandoned  between  them  and  a  stack  of  piazza  luna  flyers  fanned  out  beneath  her  hand — the paper sun-warmed and slightly creased from being folded in her bag for the better part of the afternoon. “  they’re  kicking  off  the  season  with  cinema  paradiso,  ”  she  continues,  as  if  this  should  mean  something  devastating  and  legally  binding.  one  of  the  flyers  is  slid  across  the  table  with  two  fingers, already  marked  in  the  corner  with  a  tiny  crooked  heart.  “  which  means  you  have  to  come.  it’s  culture.  it’s  tradition. it's old   people   pretending   they 're not crying   at   the   ending,   and   me   doing   my   absolute   best   to   look   employable   for   once.   ” and NO — she didn't cry at the ending the last time she watched it. the air in capri was just exceptionally dry that day. “   so   obviously,   i   need   you   there.   for   balance.   ”

an elbow rests lazily atop the table, amusement etching into the corners of his eyes at each increasingly dramatic attempt at persuasion. he finds his opening when she stops for a breath. " –end of sales pitch ? " he slides a flyer closer, smoothing the crinkles with a thumb, feigning contemplation for a moment. " you realise– " he folds the sheet in half and taps the crisp edge against the table, " you'll spend half the film shushing me for asking questions. you signing up for that ? "

“ so   i   have   an   idea, ”   tonio   began,   slowing   beside   them   as   the   street   market   carried   on   around   them.   “ you   know   how   those   book   club   people   have   that   little   table?   leave   a   book,   take   a   book,   kind of thing. ”   his   gaze   moved   over   the   crates   of   tomatoes,   lemons   and   greens,   the   thought   clearly   starting   to   amuse   him.   “ maybe   we   could   do   something   like   that   around   the   neighborhood.   could   be   nice,   no? ”

he's contemplating whether the peach slice ( offered to him as a sample ) has won his purchase. the market is bustling, as it tends to be on a friday morning; it takes a moment to register that the man had, in fact, been addressing him. " nah, in this neighbourhood ? " he lets out a chuckle, deciding against the peaches. " you already know someone's going to start treating it like a personality test. who left the murakamis ? who left 'i'm surrounded by idiots' ? "

“   i’m   asking   nicely,   ”    a   steady,    serious   voice   rings   around   the   area,    the   brunette’s   arms   are   folded   on   her   chest   as   she’s   staring   into   the   open   engine   compartment.    green   hues   are   looking   at   an   orange   cat   who   is   clearly   not   moving   anywhere,    even   after   she   tried   to   coax   him   with   gentle   words   and   remains   of   pastry   she   had   for   breakfast.    she   even   attempted   a   speech   about   workplace   safety.    nada.    “   listen   up   big   guy,   ”    he   weights   like   four   kilos,    by   the   way.    she’s   crouching   beside   the   yacht.    the   cat   yawns   and   as   ridiculous   as   it   sounds,    it   feels   like   a   slap   on   her   face.    “   i   have   three   hours   of   work   waiting   for   me   under   there,    you   need   to   work   with   me   here,   ”    manicured   fingers   are   pinching   the   bridge   of   her   nose   as   she   takes   a   deep   breath   and   as   her   gaze   moves   up,    now   it’s   focused   on   a   figure   in   the   corner,    clearly   witnessing   the   entire   thing.    “   don’t   even   say   a   word,   ”

" oh, honey, i wasn't going to say anything, " she insists, hands raised in surrender. " i'm trying very hard to respect the negotiations currently taking place. " steady steps approach the white cat, sprawled with complete authority over the equipment. " celli... " she steps closer, hooking her sunglasses to the neckline of her dress as botticelli finally deigns to glance up at her. " you're embarrassing me. she's clearly attempting diplomacy and you're behaving like a disgruntled dockworker. " he blinks once, doesn't move. giuliana sighs, long-suffering and entirely performative before looking back at the brunette. " for what it's worth, this is progress ! last week, he held an entire terrace hostage because someone dared to move his chair. "

enjoying  some  cold  gelato  on  the  afternoon  was  one  of  ivy's  favorite  habits.  she  would  go  for  a  little  sweet  treat  after  a  long  say  at  the  studio  and  would  just  do  some  people  watching,  her  way  to  find  inspiration  for  tattoos  and  art  in  general.  yet,  today,  it  wasn't  hitting  the  same.  “  is  it  just  me,  or  did  people  get  really  boring  ?  ”

" everyone comes here feeling like they're the star of a glamorous italian romance film. " the coastline is dotted with the same variation of oversized sunglasses, woven basket bags and linen sets. " by day two, they're all dressing from the same pinterest boards, ordering the same spritzes and posing in front of the same sunsets. " her culture is not a costume !

"oh, sorry! let me just– " her hands grab the paper that had slipped from the pages of the worn journal in her hands, nearly brushing their foot. "can't lose that. or get footprints on it, otherwise i promise i'm normally not the type to get in someone's personal space." she offers an apologetic purse of her lips as she stands back straight. "i hope i didn't get in your way, i know people love taking photos here at this time."

the back of her heel catches the corner of the sheet before it's snatched from under her – the sharp tug drawing her attention before the voice does. " oh ? " her glance moves from the sheet, which disappears into the journal, to the worn spine and the dog-eared pages, before lifting to it's owner. " that would have been a very dramatic rescue for a grocery list. " the steps neatly aside, smoothing the creases on her skirt. " people only chase paper like that when it's terribly embarrassing or terribly interesting. well... which is it ? "