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romano drains his glass before reaching for his phone ; thinking better of things has never been his strong suit anyway .

her name sits near the top of his recents & he stares at it , thumb hovering over the screen while his chest does that stupid thing again ⎯ tequila , he decides . maybe lack of sleep ? or too many cigarettes ? anything easier than admitting the truth .

anything but her .

1:46 AM

" fuck it , " he mutters , then calls .

four rings later , her voicemail answers .

a dry laugh leaves him as he sinks deeper into the booth . " of course you don't pick up . god forbid you make anything easy for me . "

noise swells around him . glasses clink , the photographer laughs again , music pulsing through the walls .

" i'm in paris , by the way . but i'm sure you know that already , princess . saw you watchin' my story earlier . " he drags a hand over his mouth , eyes fixed on nothing . " i'm at this club near saint - germain . it's expensive , just the right amount of pretentious . you'd fuckin' love it . "

his mouth almost curves .

" you should be here , sitting across from me , making that cute face you do whenever you think i say something stupid . " he admits . " which is , yeah , often . "

he glances down at the table , at the condensation beneath his whiskey . notices the cigarette burned down to the filter , forgotten between his fingers .

" honestly , v ? i think something's wrong with me . " teeth catch his bottom lip , a laugh leaving him , empty of any real humor . " i keep thinking about the villa . . . "

he rubs at his jaw , drunk enough to talk but not drunk enough to realize the repercussions .

" we had fun , right ? i mean , clearly we did . "

the door opens & romano looks up before he can stop himself .

someone steps in from the rain , dark fur coat dusted with water , cheeks flushed from the cold . for half a second , he thinks it's her .

but it's not vlora ⎯ of course it isn't .

his gaze drops back to his phone , where an airline tab sits open on the screen . " so hypothetically , if someone flew back to new york tonight . . . " he pauses , eyes narrowing at the first available flight . " that would be insane , no ? "

he should hang up there . leave it careless & with enough distance that neither of them can call it what it truly is .

instead , his voice drops .

" i don't know what you did to me in santorini , " there's a slur in his words , alcohol evident from the way he speaks . " but i haven't felt right since , "

& that's the closest he'll get to admitting it . no i miss you's ⎯ nothing that solidifies the feeling that's been knocking against his ribs .

romano hangs up before he can make it worse , tongue pressed hard against the inside of his cheek , irritated by the feeling .

by the silence .

by her .

& mostly by himself .

the airline tab is still open when he unlocks his phone again .

PAR → NYC

one seat left .