Summery: You decide to move, to have a fresh start, and things are going okay at first, slowly going downhill but your hopeful you can fix it. Then you meet someone who you don't remember, but he remembers you, and he's not going to let you go this time.
I'm not that proud of this rewrite tbh but I think the original needed some tweaks considering I wrote it ages ago before posting.
Word count: 9.7k, Slow burn
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âRemember, if you need anything just let me know, okay?"Â
"Of course, thanks Elina, and thank you for this⊠today"
"No worries, I know it takes a while to get back on your feet after moving". Her smile fades as she checks her phone.
"I've got to go, I have an appointment with a client in half an hour, let me know if they get back to you later, okay?â, you try to avoid feeling guilty as she hugs you before rushing to her car.
You see her off before dragging yourself back inside. Sighing and unbuttoning your shirt, you plod to your room. Gloom settles in your chest.
The interview was nothing but disappointing. It hasn't been long since you moved, though finding a job has proven more difficult than you had anticipated.
In all honestly the job was not what you were after. However, beggars canât be choosers. You need work, and fast.
Stripping down you slump onto your bed. Maybe a bath will help you relax? Youâre struggling to find the energy to do so.
The excitement of moving had gotten to your head, being far too relaxed with exploring new places and meeting new people. You neglected the important to make room for the impermanent. Until you met Elina.
It was a warm evening. You were sitting outside your usual café; table scattered with papers. You hastily attempting to dry a coffee stain on some papers you had printed. You knew it was useless; half were stained already.
âFucks sakeâ, You throw in the towel and scrunch up the stained ones, apparently cussing too loud as a lady sitting beside you leaned over, tapping your shoulder.
You glance over and see sheâs holding out a pack of cigarettes, offering you one.
You reject with a polite smile, âNo thanks, I donât smokeâ.
The lady shrugs and chucks them on her table, she leans back, âneither do Iâ.
You chuckle. A non-smoker carrying around cigarettes.
âWhy do you have them then?â.
âMy boyfriend smokes â unfortunatelyâ.
You nod with a half-smile, studying her. She looks smart, put-together. Sheâs outfitted, wearing a blazer with matching trousers, soft cotton shirt neatly tucked in.
Her hair in a clean half up half down, glimpses of the dainty jewellery she adorns peak through.
âMy names Elina. I see you here often you knowâ. You donât think youâve ever seen her before.
âIâm y/n, pleasure to meet youâ. Leaning back you get chatting with her.
Apparently, this café holds many memories for her. This place has been here for decades. It was her go to back when she used to skip school on certain days. Or where she now does her work when not wanting to be cooped up in her stuffy office.
Over the years itâs been brought and sold by many but never changed. People wouldnât allow that; thereâs too much memory attached. Moreover, this place was becoming a usual for you as well. It must just have a certain charm to it which attracts.
You took pride in being skilled at sensing when anotherâs intentions werenât pure. Elina did not fit that category. Sheâs relaxed, visibly warm and friendly. Maybe even an open book?
You spilled some to her as well. Recounting your experience of moving so far, leaving out certain details but not necessarily being reserved.
You figured she was on her lunch break when she kept checking her watch. She did give you her contact details before she left.
She slowly became a constant in your life. It felt refreshing at first, then comforting knowing you have someone you can rely on. Someone to trust.
Truthfully speaking, it was Elina who â on multiple occasions, pushed you to not give up. You were not miserable, though apparently hiding your struggle was a failure.
Even your sweet elderly landlord. The little old lady who sometimes brings over meals to sit and chat with you was getting concerned.
The bath fills and you sink into the hot soapy water. you just need sleep. It was more than emotionally draining trying to keep professional in front of the snobby interviewer.
After another month and a half of job hunting and nothing fruitful to show for your labour. Elina kindly offered to speak to her manager at to try and squeeze you in for an interview.
While you are grateful, youâre unsure if you have the energy to continue. As of right now you just need a break. Youâre not good with handling stress, never were.
Youâre not expecting luxury or 100k a year, you didnât have that before, so you certainly werenât expecting that now. Just enough to enjoy and live comfortably with is what you want.
You just want a fresh start.
Though apparently, Italy had different plans because even this job seemed just out of reach. The interview lady appeared personally offended every time you opened you mouth to answer.
Youâre unsure if the reason was Elina, maybe she was aware of the help you got? Or maybe she just didnât like your face. Youâre honestly struggling to care, dwelling on it wonât help anyway.
Tomorrow you could rest though. A new art exhibition was opening, or something similar to that. Elina kindly decided to get an extra ticket and drag you along offering to be your tour guide, so she spared you the details.
Of course you were going to agree. Elina loves museums and art galleries. She speaks of it with flair and passion. Anything creative, sheâs there. Now, by no means are you an art connoisseur, though that doesnât mean beautiful pieces donât deserve a little admiration, even you know that.
Maybe tomorrow you'll hear back from the interviewer while looking at pretty paintings and eating gelato. Though you highly doubt it. Taking a step back, your 4 months in Italy so far have been less than ideal.
The problem is you donât seem to care enough.
Youâre not depressed about your situation. Your quite happy here actually, your still glad you moved. However, youâre not jumping with joy either at the lack of results. You sit at almost a strange limbo of grey neutral, just allowing the days to push you along.
You feel as though youâre not doing enough, yet you canât push through the effort of trying harder. Maybe when youâre knocking on Elinaâs door after you failed to pay your rent you'll finally wake up and realise this is not a long holiday. This is in fact your life now.
The next morning draws in lightly. The weather is pleasant outside as your awoken with the sun shining through your blinds.
The gentle humming of cars outside paired with the soft blanket wrapped around your body makes you reluctant to rise.
The gentle warmth almost feels like a tender hug. Am I feeling that lonely? You humour yourself with the thought before pushing up. You have to get ready before Elina arrives.
Roughly forty minutes away from the destination you both take a final break, and to have a cold drink.
"That'll be 8.48". Reaching into your little shoulder bag, you find youâve left your purse in the car.
"Uh, card please" . Slip your card out your phone case with a pang of guilt, you scan, giving a polite nod to the cashier.
Your only supposed to use your card in emergencies, when you have no cash left that was the rule.
Dehydration is surly emergency enough, right? You donât want to get used to using card, youâre afraid of splurging more.
Walking out the rest stop, Elina is patiently waiting. Scanning the parked cars, you notice a black Mercedes parked alone at the far end of the parking lot, there is a man standing next to it with his back turned.
The man stands out thanks to his put together appearance compared to everyone else's comfy and casual attires. He seems to be having a serious conversation on the phone with how heâs pacing.
You pay no further mind, returning to Elina, handing her a drink. She thanks you but goes back to scrolling on her phone, brows furrowed. Sipping your drink, you lean back on the car hood, observing those entering and exiting the service.
You fail to notice the man double take when you catch his eye, he turns around to examine the rest stop and sees you closer to the front. He hangs up the previous call he was on before dialling another number.
The weather almost feels gratifying, its effect on everyone obvious, moods elevated with the sun and gentle breeze combination. When you see two girls walk out, one smoking and one not, you think back to when you and Elina first met.
While you had spoken to many and gone places with strangers youâd met on nights out, none where really your friends.
Elina always made it a point to include you in outings with her friend group who you were also fond off, all caring and accommodating. Just like her.
She really had made your short month and a half together enjoyable. Mainly she didnât let you fall too far off the edge. Encouraging you to keep going. Reminding you that responsibility does not diminish fun. You can still enjoy yourself after making sure things are set in stone.
However, you admitted it would take some time. You and responsibility were constantly clashing. Thatâs just the half of it.
Elinaâs voice snaps you out your thoughts. "Y/n remember if you see you know who you must tell me immediately. I do not wanna run into him" Her exclaim follows with her shoving a phone in your face. It's her ex who's already reached the event. Story posted 20 minutes ago.
You can't help but chuckle. "Relax Lina, itâs a busy event, what are the chances you two will run into each other? You'll both be too engrossed in the stunning art pieces". You make a dramatic show with your hands before sliding into the passenger seat. "You wonât even notice each other".
Elina grumbles at your nonchalant attitude, hoping in the driver's seat before pulling onto the motorway. "Please? I broke up with him 3 weeks ago, it will be so awkward if I run into him" she mutters. âKind of cruel as wellâ.
You roll your eyes "literally 2 days ago you were talking about how you miss his "beautiful back muscles". You mockingly quote her with your hands.
"But he did have beautiful back muscles".
"Donât take your eyes off the road" you playfully smack her as she laughs. âSeriously though, I donât know what changed about him, it was a slow change too you know. Like, he was the same for years, so why now?â.
Through your chatting, you both fail to realise something speeding from behind. A black Merc going well over the speed limit comes within a few inches of your car, cutting through the lane Elina was merging onto. The same black Merc from your rest stop.
Elina is quick to react, controlling the car from swerving into another, or off the damn road. Your seatbelt locks, painfully pushing against your chest as your thrown sideways. The sound of tyres screeching audible.
Youâre immediately rattled, feeling your heart hammering. Your focus was elsewhere, and Elinaâs wide swerve was more than a shock to the system. Only after a few long seconds do you realise what happened, you let out a breath you didnât realise you were holding.
You feel your ears hammering as you look around, glancing over at Elina, she got a hand on her chest, breathing out deeply.
She inhales through her nose heavily before an angry scowl forms. "What the fuck! People actually can't drive, why the hell are they in such a rush anyways!" she frustratedly smacks her steering wheel.
You just breath out and lean your head back, "It's fine Lina, at least they didnât hit usâ. Youâre still feeling the shock ripple beneath your skin. âThat would have been a much bigger problem". It makes you rub the chills creeping up your arms.
Theres nothing but a frustrated sigh from your friend. You both glance at each other, wanting to speak but choosing silence instead, you both look ahead, through a long beat of silence.
The only interruption is Elinaâs mindless tapping on the steering wheel; sheâs trying to soothe herself. You are too, fidgeting with your phone.
The rest of the journey remained silent. Music being turned on when the shock passes. You can tell your friend shakes it off faster than you as upon reaching your destination Elina all but rush parks. Sheâs excited to get out and explore.
Slipping through the cars, Elina grabs your hand and starts dragging you out the Parking lot, you walk too slow according to her.
"Okay Lina slow down please" you try sound serious, but you also donât want to ruin her good mood. It helps you liven up too. Elina is very much a quick to forget type of person. You think it rubs of you sometimes.Â
That is until you are dragged by a car you recognise. The same black Merc that almost T-boned you to hell. Your steps falter "Lina, itâs the car" you point your head towards it. She glances at the car youâre pointing to, then back at you. She seems to ponder for a moment, looking back at the car before dismissing your concerns, tugging you forward.Â
"Just leave it, it's not like weâre gonna go confront them". Your friend interlocks her hand with yours, giving it a squeeze.
You donât say anything because sheâs right, are you really going to go up and start an argument? Of course not, that would be too much â though the tense feeling in you stays. One you canât explain.
"By the way some of the artists themselves will be presentâ Elina pipes up. âWell, it's also a charity event so thatâs probably why. But we get to speak with them and take pictures. Remember that Dutch artist I was telling you about-â through her rambling you can't help but look back, catching a glimpse of those exiting.
You focus, instead of the tall well-dressed man â a couple steps out, all polished, in their 40s early 50s maybe? And clearly in the zone.
You face forward after making brief eye contact with the woman. Was it the wrong car? Shifting your focus back to Elinas ranting, the rows of booths come into view. Each having different pieces of art on display. Elina drags you to the first booth on the left and immediately begins critiquing the different pieces. You can see the artwork mainly consists of realism.
They are truly beautiful and show an incredible display of talent and precision. You see the artists signature at the bottom of the piece.
"Lotta" you say catching the attention of Elina, "mhm, sheâs an anonymous artist from Germanyâ she taps her cheek inspecting the painting. âI donât understand though, why wouldnât you want recognition for your pieces?â.
"She likes to protect her peace" you turn your head to her, âsheâs still getting recognition though, you know her, seeâ She scoffs, "Let's find out who she is" Elina responds in a joking manner. You playfully elbow her ribs.
"See, she's protecting her peace from people like you". She lets out a dramatic gasp. You grin and go back to studying the painting.
The piece is of a couple, nothing dramatic but instead domestic. They are sitting on a couch in a garden, the lady is sitting on the man's lap leaning her head on his shoulder with him holding her wrist, kissing it.
"Lina did he treat you this delicately, is that why you miss him so much?" you drawl it, tilting your head at her teasingly.
She sighs and turns to you as you move on. "First off, it's only been 3 weeks, of course I miss him sometimes and secondly" she turns to face you "Yes, he was lovely to meâ. Her smile pretty much yells at you to dare challenge her.
You donât, because sheâs right. You had seen how he treated her, and it was with nothing but kindness and respect. Which is why it was all the more strange when you heard of their sudden breakup.
"By the way if you find one like that, throw him my way, won't you?â
You bite your cheek and shove her "if I find a man like that, I'm keeping him".
The next booth over showcases a wide variety of poses and mediums. Many show similarities to realistic or classical sculptures. Thereâs a focused use of black chalk and charcoal. The fine dusk makes it easier to differentiate what tools were used whether it be by brush or hand.
Slowly making your rounds you reach a booth two down from the entrance of the museum. Â Â Instantly the paintings catch your eye. Not necessarily for the pieces themselves, but the style. As you step closer thereâs a strange reminiscence to them.
The pieces are clearly renaissance inspired though with more modern visuals. Some having people walking, one of a black swan recital, spotlight on the central ballet dancer. Thereâs many pieces depicting music, along with one of two children playing in a yard, a boy and a girl. Â
Your eyes flick to the bottom corner looking for the signature.Â
"Valentine Allardâ you nod, âvery talented Mr Allard".
At first, you fail to notice the lack of commentary from Elina. Though the odd silence drags you back in. Turning to ask, your words die out â no oneâs there. You glance around, but Elina is gone.
Being so caught up in the paintings you failed to realise she had left. As your about to start an involuntary game of hide and seek, a deep voice from behind startles you "Yes, he is quite talented".
Spinning around, youâre greeted with a man in his 20s, arms crossed, finger tapping his chin. Heâs tall, clad in a white shirt which is loosely buttoned, along with navy slacks.
You are startled yes, but that seems to wash away almost instantly. Replaced with a feeling of familiarity.
Have I seen him before? He seems familiar.
When you fail to respond he turns to you putting his hands in his pockets. Grey eyes stare into yours. They would seem cold if not for his inviting smile.
"Do you usually talk to paintings when you're alone" he raises his brows teasingly.
You scoff, turning away from him with a smile. "No, I was with my friend" Looking back, itâs as if trying to prove yourself. "Though I donât know where she wentâŠ"
"If you would like, I can accompany you", You recognise his tone, he's being coy. Maybe it would bother you more if it wasnât for how familiar he looked.
"Why, are you here alone?"
"No, but everyone else is busy" His eyes trail down to your dress "You look very beautiful miss, the colour suits you well".
 His compliment catches you off guard, you flash him a bashful smile looking down at your dress.
"Thank you, it's new, my first time wearing it". Fiddling with your rings, you draw your eyes back to him. He isnât paying attention to the dress; heâs looking at your face.
"Well, I hope to see it on you more often, missâŠ" he tilts his head awaiting your response.
"A lovely name for a lovely lady". You roll your eyes playfully, making sure he can see. Your unable to stop your smile from showing, he is quite charming.
âIs this why you came over here, just to flirt?â You purse your lips, tone slightly accusing.
His smile widens, flashing his teeth. He puts his hands up playfully taking a step back.
âI was simply appreciating your presence, I shall keep my lips sealed nowâ.
His playful flirting is amusing, but you canât stop your smile from faltering when he momentarily brings a hand up to his face, covering his nose and mouth leaving just his eyes visible.
For just a second, dĂ©jĂ vu clouds your head. Youâre sure you know him from somewhere, but where?
Where have I seen him before?
He seems to pick up on your pensiveness, though he doesnât question it. Instead, he points at the smudged ballet dancers in the background of the Black swan painting.
"This one seems a bit rushed though, no?"
His question snaps you back in. You scan the painting. The only one with visible features is the main dancer in the middle, spotlight shining gracefully on her as sheâs mid Echappe. You canât help but disagree.
"I donât think so, I assume the point is to draw your attention to the main dancer, itâs obviously been done on purposeâ. Biting your lip, you study the painting more. "Weâre most likely seeing the show through his eyesâ.
Flicking your gaze back to the man, his eyes have softened, heâs admiring the painting with a look of pure contentment. "Very nice, that is correct it was intentional".
He's got this boyish grin, it makes this fuzzy curiosity slowly build within you, this is the most youâve smiled with a random man on a random weekday.
Surly, I know you from somewhere?
You feel comfortable in his presence, like youâve stood next to him before. But for some reason a part of you nags that you should be weary, not so comfortable. That part youâre trying to ignore. Â Youâre enjoying the playful back and forth.
"Well, you clearly do not have a good eye". His brows raise and he laughs.
"I would disagree miss, Iâd say Iâm quite well versed in art".
He speaks with pride in his voice. Itâs lovely that heâs so invested in the artwork but the more you look at him the more puzzled you become. You canât shake the feeling youâve encountered him before.
Debating on how you should question him, your interrupted by your phone, you see itâs Elina calling.
Your question is thrown out, replaced with the thought of finding your friend, you shuffle back with a polite smile. "Sorry, I need to take this".
You fail to register his uncomfortable shift as you begin walking away, like he's unimpressed. He speaks up quick.
"You need to find your friend? We can continue this conversation another time"
He flashes an all but practiced smile. It doesnât look as genuine as before; he seems very adamant that you two will meet again. You don't have time to think about it.
"Hey Lina? Where did you go?". Scanning the busy grass patches the chaos around makes it difficult to focus.
âY/n, Andrea dragged me awayâ she puts emphasis on his name. âIt was so awkward, come here I see you, look more to your right".
Shuffling right, you spot Elina sitting on a bench, waving at you. As your walking towards her you fail to shove off the nagging feeling you have about that man.
Peeking back, the man is facing away from you, heâs on the phone and you canât help but feel like youâre intruding. You hesitate, Heâs awfully stiff, looking really rigid.
Weaving through the noisy crowds, all thoughts about him dissipate when Elina gives you a brief overview on the events.
"So, he literally dragged you away? By the arm, why didnât you slap him?".
Turns out Elina literally meant it when she said he dragged her away. He supposedly had something very important to talk about which just could not wait.
"Yeh, but when he dragged me over, he was just fidgeting the whole time, all he was asking was how I'm doing and how the family is.â
She has this look of disappointment on her face, clearly, she was expecting more, or maybe hoping for more?
âThat doesnât sound very urgent, does it?â
âHe also kept looking around all anxious as well. Seriously think the heat got to him or something" she sighs and leans back on the bench closing her eyes.
"So much for avoiding him, he can't seem to avoid you".
She huffs when seeing your smirk, your just trying to rail her up.
"No way, I'm telling you he looked like he was forced to talk with me. Was he always this weird?".
She shakes her head and turns to face you. "Anyways forget it, how was your chat with Valentine?"
You pause upon hearing that fact, Is she serious?
"Wait â he was the artist!?".
Swivelling back, you see he's no longer there. "Yeh, I know itâs him because I've met him before, twice actually" she states it so casually, head in her hand.
âWhereâs he gone then if thatâs his booth, just leaving all his workâ.
Many of the booths arenât supervised from what you can now see.
âEverything here has already been brought, and the money has been donated. Also, Iâm pretty sure that stuff is all pinned down so itâll cause quite a scene if anyone tries to snatch one and run, the security would be fasterâ.
Sheâs right, there are plenty of security around, all dressed in their suits, earpieces on. You bring your hand up, shading your eyes from the sun. Itâs seems to be getting stronger, Elinaâs doing the same.
âSo where have you met Valentine before?â
"It was just at a previous art event, But I don't think he likes me much".
You eye her suspiciously. "How come?", your curious, she very much seems like the screamer mass photo taker type of fan, she's being perfectly casual right now.
She bites her lip, holding back a grin.
"The first meeting was fine, it was normal you know. But the second meeting⊠I spilled hot coffee all over him".
Embarrassment freckled her cheeks as she avoids your gaze. You were not expecting that, youâre biting your lip, attempting to stop your laughter from sufficing.
"And he was holding one of his sketch books, it was ruined" she murmurs. "He was not happy".
Of course you start laughing, no wonder she let her ex manhandle her away without calling for you. He basically saved her when she saw Valentine approach beside you.
"Okay, how did you manage that?". You donât want to embarrass her but the joy in your voice is evident.
âIt wasnât my fault, it slipped from my hand I was carrying a bunch of stuffâ. Sheâs most definitely not as impressed as you.
"You know he was being so flirty with meâ.
You could almost see her ears perk up at that, her eyes snap up to you, widened with slight surprise. "He was being nice?"
Traces of laughter still in your voice, you give her a confused look.
"I mean yeah, why wouldnât he be?". Thinking back, he seemed genuine enough.
"Well yeah, he's nice, but its fake niceness. He's in the spotlight of course he needs to be nice. He needs to keep up a good image, but you can tell its fake".
She studies you, youâre in thought and when you donât respond her eyes light up.
"What was he saying?", her tone is laced with curiosity as she shuffles forward. For some reason you hesitate. Clearly caught off guard.
Was he being really flirty? Or are you looking into it too much? Youâve never met him before to see how he usually interacts with others so how would you know?
"Well, he asked my opinion on the paintings, acting like he didnât paint them, asked my name, said it was lovely. He said my dress looked nice and I should wear it more often" you straighten out your dress. âHe was being like, really playful?â.
"No way, he was actually flirting with you" Her head falls back for a second with laughter before her shining eyes bore into you, smile growing.
Your quick to defend yourself, shaking your head.
"Hold on, we were just having a friendly chatâŠâ.
Elinaâs brows furrow and her joyful smile turns into a questioning one.
"Is that how all guys talk to you then? Saying you got a pretty name and a pretty dress, but they just wanna talk about paintings?" she scoffs and looks at you like your dense.
Thinking back, he wasnât even hiding it. His way with words made you feel warm, and they were deliberate, obviously.
Maybe youâre both looking into it too much?
"Maybe thatâs just how he talks, you wouldnât know Alina âcos you enjoy spilling your drinks on people".
 She immediately straightens up at your teasing.
"I said that was an accident! And secondly donât change the subject. Let's go find him, He said he wants to see you again".
You heart slightly drops at hearing that. She tries dragging you up, but you stay rooted to your seat. You donât want to see him again, not yet anyways.
"Stop, Iâm not going to go find him that would be so weird".
Your friend doesnât even bother hiding her sly smirk as she eyes you down.
"Why the hell not? You're not the one who spilled coffee on him. Besides, we can find out if he really meant it or if heâs just an asshole who was playingâ.
You feel beside yourself at her audacity. She wants this to become entertainment, but it also sounds like she not entirely convinced by his behaviour.
âSit down, stop being weirdâ. Reaching to flick her forehead, she dodges with a giggle.
"Okay seriously though, you arenât a little curious as to what he wants. He obviously has a motive, Iâm being serious this guy is not friendly by nature".
âYeah, but heâs also really well known in the art field, I bet he flirts with fans all the timeâ. Youâre trying to think logically.
Big and well known in the art field, loads of the fans love him, he can get whatever or whoever he wants. You canât trust people who presumably, have it all. Elina adamantly disagrees.
âNo trust me, this guy hates everyone equally. Even before I ruined his work and shirt, he was not nice, even in spotlight, itâs so fake. If he was being that nice to you, he definitely likes youâ.
"You think thatâs a bad thing?".
If he really does have such an unpleasant personality, wouldnât it be safer to stay away?
"No, not necessarily â which is why we should find out".
"I don't think so, if we bump into each other again then fairs, but I'm not looking for anyone". Â
Elina sighs with exaggeration. âWell then, I guess weâll never know if he wanted to sweep you off your feet, become your prince charmingâ. She dramatically placing a hand on her head.
You scoff, at the little show sheâs putting onâ.
The evening air is cool, your sightseeing of the event finished an hour ago. Your sitting facing her, more invested in your dinner than she is. Her food barley touched.
"Hey, y/n". You look up as your taking a bite. "Look", She flips her phone over to you. Itâs a message from her ex asking if they can meet again. Â
"Thatâs why I'm asking you, I wanna know what he wants but I'm not sure⊠he was acting really strange today, itâs not like him". You can hear the hesitancy in her voice.
You have a feeling she showed you hoping for your support, sheâs already gave her answer. You place your fork down.
âIf you feel like you want to go see him, then maybe you should, I know you want to. Maybe you can get an answer as to why he changed so much before you left".
She has a guilty smile as she looks down. You were right, she just needed your support. You donât see any problems with it, you know heâs not dangerous to be around.
"Look I know it's stupid and I know we make our jokes, but I do want to have one last proper conversation with him, and tie up loose ends".
She fiddles with her phone nervously and peeks up at you. You can sense her nerves, giving her a reassuring nod.
âTrust me, I know, even if things end on a bad note at least you'll get it out the way instead of it weighing on your mind, you know".
" Yeah⊠thanks, I'll see you back at the hotel, okay?" Â
She gives you an appreciative hug before you go your separate ways, you plan is to head straight back to your hotel, youâre tired, and a 20-minute walk in this weather would be good for you.
It really would be if it wasnât for the disappointment washing over you. Your dejected gaze stares back at you through the screen. The âpoliteâ rejection email would be sneering at you if it could.
You keep saying to yourself you past the point of caring, but it feels like youâve been doused in cold water.
It stings really, gnaws at you, why was nothing working? It felt like there was something playing against you. Maybe if you knew more people, youâd say someone was giving you evil eye.
Thereâs no point in dwelling on it, shaking off misfortunes fast has become a talent for you. Itâs not to say you donât still feel disheartened but whatâs the point in stressing over the past now?
The moment you shove your phone in your bag and look ahead, your steps falter and you feel warmth creep up your neck.
You recognise that familiar figure crossing the road. Coming in your direction, the same charming smile on and everything.
You feel an unusual wave of giddiness, previous disappointment slowly fading. The bass in his voice already becoming familiar to you. Yet you canât help but think back to what Elina said.
He's wearing the same clothes he wore to the event, just has slightly messier hair, you can see where heâs ran his hands through it.
"This is a pleasant surprise".
He raises his brows at your more mischievous smile. Â Itâs certainly different to the shyer and sweeter one you had on at the event.
"I see you found out my name, I don't remember telling youâ. With crossed arms, his amused smile mirrors yours. Â Â
"Yeah, my friend told me, she says she's met you before".
His eyes shift away briefly, smile thinning, and you pick up on it. So, heâs still tense with Elina.
"Well, Iâve met a lot of people, but she does seem familiar".
"Mhm, and our talk was cut short earlierâ.
Clasping your hands, your bags slightly shuffling. You had made several purchases, followed your heart instead of your head.
"Mind if I join?" He gestures for your bags, "if you arenât busy".
You don't hesitate to hand them over, "I'm not busy". Failing to supress your grin, you begin walking with him, in the opposite direction of your hotel.
"So y/n, you're not from here, are you?"
"No, I've been here nearly 4 months now. Why? Is my accent that bad".
"No not at all, it's honestly quite good, but I can still tell you're not from here". His relaxed smile puts you more at ease.
"Do you enjoy art shows, y/n?"
Heâs looking ahead with such a soft expression, his content look makes you feel comfortable around him, like this is a natural thing between you both⊠like this isnât your first time.
"I don't know much about art to be honest, I mainly came âcos Elina dragged me here. But I knew Iâd still enjoy the experienceâ.
âSo thatâs your friends nameâ. His tone is flat, no curiosity behind it whatsoever. His previous expression dropped, itâs obvious to you now, he doesnât bother hiding his feeling about Elina.
Truthfully, it irked you. The sudden shift in his demeanour is easy to pick on, almost radiating off him.
You were more confused than anything. You can understand why he may not be so fond of her, but considering it happened a while back his reaction seems disproportionate even if it is unintentional, and you know Elina better than him.
"Are you close with her?" His question etched with a little reluctance.
"As close as we can be, considering weâve not known each other long, but Iâd say yes. Weâre close". Itâs most definitely curiosity of sorts.
Turning a corner, you nearly bump into a tourist who was busy taking photos. Valentine wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you in before you do so.
"Have you gotten to know many people since moving here?".
He lets you go after switching sides with you, putting himself closer to the crowd.
"Well yeah, but I havenât gotten as close with them as I have with Elinaâ.
When you feel him looking down at you, you subconsciously give him a smile to which he mirrors, to your relief. Maybe itâs all in your head, that tension you felt.
âI hope the show was to your expectationsâ.
He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, steering you towards a bench not far up ahead.
âIt was interesting, kinda made me wanna try some drawings myselfâ.
It was more of a passing fantasy really, imagining taking up a new hobby if youâre bored maybe? But sitting down Valentine has an eager glint in his eyes.
âReally? Iâd be more than happy to help guide you if you want to learnâ. His tone has a hint of excitement in it, as though your statement was a confession of sorts.
His whole demeanour changing to excitement catches you off guard. You give a nervous chuckle.
âThanks, but I donât think Iâll be that goodâ.
âEveryone starts somewhere, itâs never too lateâ. He leans back causally, body open, comfortable.
While trying not to stare excessively, you notice he has very subtle freckles across his nose. If it wasnât for how close he was sitting you would have never seen them.
âYes, but some are more talented than othersâ. Tilting your head you give him a knowing look. He chuckles, knowing youâre referring to him.
âIf you were to see my childhood drawings you wouldnât be saying thatâ. You want to roll your eyes hearing that.
âSo, like the majority of childrenâ, you deadpan.
He just shrugs, it makes you think his childhood drawings arenât as bad as he claims they are. Now you curious.
âWhy donât you show me some, I know your parents kept your drawings thereâs no way they didnâtâ. You shuffle closer, he exhales almost hesitantly.
âThey didâ, he confesses, turning to you. âBut they are in my parentâs possession, youâd have to ask them personallyâ.
âShame, I was really looking forward to seeing young Valentineâs workâ. You swivel your head away from him teasingly. Â
âOkay, if you ever manage to get a hold of my parents, I can promise you theyâd be delighted to show them offâ.
âAww, theyâre still proud of little valentine, yeah?â
He chuckles at your ribbing, ears tinted pink.
âThey are prouder of big Valentine nowâ. His voice sounds content. You imagine itâs something he thinks about often.
âI can see why. Your work is certainly something to be proud ofâ. As you rest back he looks away, clearly flustered by your compliment. Itâs cute, surely he gets compliments on his work all the time.
You doubt this is his usual reaction to praise, he seems like the type to soak it up in stride and inflate his ego further. Maybe Elina was right.
âSpeaking of work, what about you y/n. Iâm assuming itâs your day off?â.
You werenât expecting him to bring up your main failure thus far accidently like that, it wasnât what you had in mind to chat about with this man. The discontent it makes you feel is something youâre looking to avoid.
Heâs looking right in your eyes, you donât want to give anything away but your fidgeting may sell you out.
âI have a couple days offâ, your smile doesnât really reach your eyes, but it seems to be enough for him as indicated by a nod of his head. Why would you lie, right?
âHow are you finding your time here so far?â
To be honest, after the initial excitement, disappointing.
âItâs been good, Iâm still adjusting but Iâm getting thereâ. You have been lying to yourself for so long. Behind, a sudden honk from a nearby car on the road startles you, like a hint to a wake up call.
âAnything youâre not so fond of?â, Valentine leans forward now, elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped.
âIâm not sure to be honest, Iâve had some bumpy moments but thatâs expectedâ. You shrug, gazing at the floor. He lowers his head, trying to get a better look your face.
âAnything I can help your with?â.
You gaze up curiously at him, and he follows. Is that an odd thing to say to someone youâve just met? Or is it just small talk? You give him a polite smile.
âI appreciate that Valentine, but Iâm okay, thanksâ.
He doesnât respond, not verbally at least. Youâre unsure why but his silence got you thinking, it brings you back to that familiar feeling you have about him. You donât want to make anything awkward, but curiosity wins.
âHey, ignore me if Iâm mistaking you for someone else, but have we met before?â.
Thereâs no immediate response, you can see a shift in his eyes, almost seeing them light up. They narrow from his smile, a warm one.
âIâm not so sure, where do you remember seeing me?â. It sounds less like a question, more like he already knows the answer. Him asking was just a curtesy to follow on from your question.
You wait for a particularly loud group to pass by before speaking.
âI donât know to be honest, you just seem familiar in a wayâ. Studying his face a tad to intently, you fail to realise you leaned in awfully close.
You pull away after a few seconds, realising you must look so strange right now. âSorry, just forget itâ.
Valentine laughs, a proper one. One from deep down of a man who seems overly pleased.
His ask is strange. You shift your focus back to him with a questioning look though, he doesnât speak up. He just smiles at you wide, cheek resting on his hand.
The sun hits him perfectly. Golden rays floating down making his black hair shine and his grey eyes lighten up, like clear water pools.
âWhat?â. You can feel heat creeping up your neck and prickle your cheeks, youâd be lying if you said he wasnât handsome, and you feel hyper-aware under his gaze.
âYou can look at me for as long as you want. I donât mindâ. His voice is soft, though you donât fail to pick up on the teasing. He can certainly tell your flustered.
âThatâs not what I was doing, I just thought I recognised you from somewhere. Stop being weirdâ. He laughs as your swivelling your head around, feigning interest in a group of pigeons.
âOkay I apologise. Iâll stop teasing if we can continue out chat, Iâm quite enjoying talking to youâ.
You hum as you let the warm evening sun soak into your skin, a perfect balance between that and the wind. Your surroundings are also becoming less crowded, only hearing distinct chatter compared to the previous bustling of city noise.
âYou are very interested in my doâs and donâts, arenât you Valentine?â
âYour doâs and donâts are very interesting, but I apologise if Iâve been intrusiveâ. You shake your head.
So far, you canât dislike him at all. Heâs most definitely charming, and heâs been curious but respectfully so.
Youâre not sure if itâs the lack of genuine connection youâve had since moving but Valentineâs presence is comfortable for the most part, and him being easy to talk to does help.
âItâs okay, you havenât overstepped. But how about I ask you some questions in return, to make it fair, deal?â
âGo ahead, I believe an introduction would be fairâ.
You shift closer and cross your legs, indicating youâre listening.
âWell, as you already know. My name is Valentine, I am an artist, and I was born and raised in Milanâ.
Theres subtle delay in his say. You give him a nod, encouraging him to keep going. Youâre interested to find out as much about him as possible. He âon the other handâ hesitates somewhat before clearing his throat and continuing.
"I enjoy walks, the quiet away from large crowds, sometimes. I live between Rome and Milan now, though I just go wherever work takes me to be honestâ.
His voice is smooth, paired with the cooling breeze, you almost want to shut your eyes and fall asleep to it. However, that might just be your energy for the day drained.
"That was all just about work", you sneer and poke his shoulder. He looks down with a somewhat flustered smile.
"I know, I'm not really sure what else is interesting about me", he looks back at you. "What would you like to know?â
"Surly thereâs other things interesting about you. What else do you do besides walks when you're not being an artist?"
He leans back and thinks for a moment, âI go to the gym, even when I canât be bothered, itâs ingrained in my routine now".
"Do you travel a lot for work?â
âYes and no. I guess itâs like being a consultant. I do travel to meet clients but not often and rarely for long periods of timeâ. You simple nod has him grinning and crossing his arms. Â
âYou seem disappointed, were my answers boring?â
âI wouldnât say boring. I honestly expected you to travel for inspiration more, like going and painting by the seaâ. Theres playful intonation in your voice.
There it is again, that visually pleasing smile and his mellifluous laughter, deep and warm. He looks around at a particularly loud group of teens.
You honestly donât have a clue what it means to be an artist apart from painting and selling said paintings.
âI certainly take visual inspiration, thatâs how most of my work startsâ.
While calmy observing your surroundings as he talks, he half points to a young lady walking by carrying a rather expensive and beautiful bouquet of flowers.
âYou see them, do you know what kind of flowers those are?â.
âAnd some hibiscus, not the usual mix of flowers youâd see. I like to keep notes of things that catch my eye, and it gives inspiration I can build onâ. He turns to face you again.
âMaybe my next painting will be of you holding a pretty bouquetâ.
You scoff, cheeks flushing as you attempt to hold back a grin. You stare back up at the lavender sky feeling almost shy, avoiding his gaze.
âAre you always this flirty with people?â. While it is a genuine question, youâre unsure of how to respond to his attempting at wooing.
âOnly the beautiful ones, so only youâ. You playfully elbow him, creating some distance between you both.
It would be a complete lie to say you werenât enjoying this, and that you donât feel drawn to him in some way. He â by all means, has made his intentions clear.
However, he doesn't seem like the type to linger, with his charms you expect him to dash. Loose interest too fast especially with how often he travels and all the new people he regularly meets.
You do find it peculiar at the interest heâs taken in you. You two have never met before, at least you donât think you have, and so far heâs been an open book emotional wise.
While you donât want to assume, you are also aware stereotypes had to have come from somewhere, and if thereâs something that you certainly wonât play into itâs being someoneâs temporary fun.
âAre you not busy Valentine? It is a workday for you todayâ. You had conversed for longer than expected, but you doubt his work follows a strict schedule of sorts.
"I'm okay y/n, I can go to work and leave whenever I want" he hums.
"Is it time for you to get home now?", he asks softy.
"Probably should yeah, back to my hotel for the night, I'll be going home tomorrow". You notice his smile falters as he glances around.
"You don't live here?" His brows gently furrow, you can hear hints of dejection in his tone.
"No, I live in Naples". You mirror his head tilt, he nods and purses his lips. "Why, you seem disappointed" you tease.
"It would be a lie if I said I wasn't". He states it so matter-of-factly. Without waiting for your response he grabs your bags, standing up and offering you his hand. "Why don't I take you back".
Your cheeks warm and he picks up on it, a grin tugging at his lips, you sigh softy and take his hand allowing him to pull you up.
"I'll drive you back, is that fine?"
"Yeah, thatâs fine" he flashes that charismatic smile, you notice he slows down to match your pace.
His car is parked close, though it was hardly what you were expecting, you can't help but falter when it comes into view. Valentine gives you a confused look as he's pulling out his keys.
"Is that your car?" Shuffling alongside him, you try to make it sound causal, but youâre on edge now.
"No, it's my mums, my parents drove me down today". You nod, mainly to yourself as his attention is elsewhere.
"Did you drive or was it them?". You question him as he loads your bags in. He turns and gives you a puzzled look.
"My mum, she doesnât let anyone else drive. Why?" He opens the passenger door for you. "What hotel are you staying at?â. Replying as you get in, you notice thereâs truth to his statement.
The car smells like expensive perfume, a womanâs ones. Theres a burgundy steering wheel cover and matching car seat covers, and a fluffy pillow on the driverâs seat. You stifle a laugh seeing him push the seat back.
You probably should feel more unease at this revelation. The fact that you comfortable enough around this stranger youâd say is a flaw. You have no right to nag Elina about her easy-goingness after this.
"Your parents are awful drivers".
Reanimating that near-death experience in your head makes you shiver.
âWhat do you mean? I would say they were driving quite relaxed. We left early so I could get there on time". He clicks his seatbelt in place, pushing the button the engine springs to life. Â
"Wait, so what time did you arrive?"
"Around 8am this morning, why?" While he does keep his eyes on the road, its obvious confusion is dawning on him, a questioning furrow in his brows.
"Seatbelt please". You realise you forgot to put your seatbelt on. "sorry", you mutter and buckle in.
"If it was this car, your mum nearly pushed us off the road, but it was like afternoon time. So maybe it wasn't them?â
"It might have been, they left a bit before the exhibition started to go pick up my cousin, but he was quite far". Fingers tap the steering wheel. "They might have been rushing to get back then". You canât help but scoff.
"No Valentine it wasnât just rush, it was like they were in fast and furious I thought I was going to die". You dramatically place a hand over your heart, just to further get your point across.
Valentine laughs, "I won't lie, my mother can be a reckless driver, so it would have been her driving".
âSo, I have met your parents, itâs a shame I didnât ask to see little Valentineâs artworkâ.
âYes, well Iâm more concerned with how you met my parents and cousin before meâ.
You remember seeing the well-dressed man at the rest stop, who must have been his cousin. What are the chances you ran into his parents and cousin at a random service stop.
âWell, you both dress quite similar so you have that in commonâ. He mirrors you smile but with a shrug.
âTo be fair he always dresses smart, goes with his jobâ.
âSame as you then. But I assume heâs not a renowned artistâ. You donât bother asking what his cousin does. You donât care really, it doesnât even cross your mind. Most likely an office or management job?
âNo, he is not. But even if he was, he would not be as good as me I can assure youâ.
âI think Iâll decide when I see some of his artworks for myself, canât judge too earlyâ.
âHe doesnât even have anyâ.
Focusing on the back-and-forth banter, it isnât until he puts the car in park you realise your back. Pushing yourself out, heâs already reaching to take your bags out.
"I enjoyed talking with you y/n, it was lovely to meet you". The words have a slight ring to them, a pleasant one that lights your head up.
"Talking to you was more enjoyable than I thought it would be". You raise your chin up at him with mock arrogance. Though your satisfied smile shine through.
"Look, I know we donât really know each other but, I'd like to stay in contact with you. If thatâs okay?"
You feel your cheeks heating up again, you can't help but beam a little and you mentally reprimand yourself. Truthfully you still didnât trust him all that much.
Also, probably shouldnât have gotten in his car, But whatâs the harm in a little number exchange?
"Of course, I'd like to stay in contact". You pass him your phone, and he saves his number, sending over a test message and you hear his phone ping.
You found it slightly odd how he made sure the messages sent, even though he was the one to put the number down, but you chose to ignore it feeling more upbeat than before.
"Iâll also got your Instagram", you nod taking the phone back off him.
"I do hope I can see you again in person soon ". He takes a step forward, initiating a hug. You don't hesitate, putting your bags down to hug him quick.
"I wouldnât mind". You confess.
It felt nice and rather intimate for a first hug, maybe even slightly awkward though neither of you paid mind to it.
When you pull away there's a comfortable silence between you both, you give him one final look before making your way in, he waits until your inside before going back to his car.
Your heart is softly thumping as you press the lift button up to your floor. You feel so giddy, the dopamine rushing though you feeling pleasant. The doors open and as you make your way to your door your phone pings with a message. It's from Valentine.
"Have a goodnight y/n, make sure to get plenty of rest for your journey back tomorrow".
The message makes you giggle, you decide to respond when you get settled in bed, Elina has probably been waiting a while for you to come back.
Rushing in your ready to greet your friend, to tell her all about what happened as she seemed more excited than you previously, but your smile fades when you see no one there.
Both beds are empty, and the sheets remain undisturbed. You check the bathroom only for that to be empty too. Is she still out?
Valentine pulls out and starts driving once more. To one of the several homes owned by his parents. He doesn't know how to explain the feeling he has other than pure bliss.
It's strange really, he felt so comfortable around you. He never feels this comfortable around people unless there's a reason.
But then again, youâre not just anyone, and heâd always felt this comfortable around you. Even If you donât remember it yet, youâll realise eventually.
Your casual company is different. He was hoping to spend more time with you, but you came out of that restaurant a little too late. Andrea must have messaged later than he was told. He sighs and rubs his lips, he's at a pause at a red light.
When he gets a buzz from his phone, he's too quick to snatch it up. It makes him feel a little pathetic to be honest, hoping it's you. And much to his pleasure, it is.
"I'll make sure I do, have sweet dreams Val <3"
God, youâre so cute, and that silly little heart at the end? Thatâs just sealed your fate.
Were you feeling cheeky when you sent that? Gave him a little nickname already and everything.
He feels his heart thumping and can't help but smile. Were you feeling this way as well? Were you remembering who he is?
He really is pathetic, isn't he? All this because you caught him at the right time.
You donât even remember, but he does, how could he forget the way you helped him? Saved him from a lifetime of being seen as a failure and ostracised?
Do you know how long itâs been? How long heâs been waiting?
He throws his phone onto the passenger seat as the light turns green. He rubs his face, smile wild. He must look insane to anyone viewing from outside.
Heâs replaying it in his head. To him, nothing is as sweet as his name rolling off your tongue, or that look is your eyes. So kind, and still as he remembers.
It sends a satisfying tingle down his spine, gives him butterflies.
He never feels this soft for people. Hell, even when you first met, he kept his composure, he was purposely rude, though that didnât seem to affect you.
Maybe itâs been too long, and after all these years his craving only got stronger. Thatâs probably accurate, and it wasnât for nothing.
Youâve found your way back to him.
That must mean something, right?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Part two of this will also be rewritten, I'm just being lazy...
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