a/n: i'm just tossing this out there idk
Summer is the hottest season and hot damn, do I wish it weren't. My sandal-clad feet drag on the asphalt, threatening to melt off right then and there, It's diabolical the way the Italian sun beats down on me even with an umbrella in hand and overhead. At the very least, Lily, is also suffering with me as we walk to the gelato parlor, Le Mezzanine. Supposedly it's the tastiest thing in town according to her copious amounts of social media consumption. The scent of food wafts all around the city, it's absurd how everything here is so obscenely delicious.
"C'mon, walk faster! The shop'll be closed by the time we get there at the rate you're walking!" I can only let out a disgruntled groan as I'm yanked towards the store.
Surprisingly, hardly anyone is there, must be the weekday afternoon perk, I imagine. I look over the flavours on the list, drooling a little at the idea of an icy sweet treat. Mango sorbet, pistachio, hazelnut, lemon… The simple choice is overwhelming in the heat. I look at the nice granny running the store and in atrociously accented Italian, attempt to ask for a sample.
"Excuse me… signorina, posso avere un campione di mango, nocciola e cioccolato, per favore?" I point at her list in hopes she can still understand. I'm met with a classic granny smile and her handing me all 3 flavours on different little wooden spoons.
As I'm tasting them, an absolute unit of men walk in. The tallest one, with pretty crescent eyes and a voice deep enough to catch my attention even from afar, has blue hair, a shade you frequently see at dusky blue hour. He's got a beauty mark under his right eye, kind of looks cute. The guy beside him, shorter in stature but with shoulders broad enough to easily compete, has longer black hair, faint freckles peppered on his face and dresses in all black to match. To his left, is a bespectacled man, the console in his hands noisy with clicking buttons and clicking joysticks as they squeeze into the tiny shop beside me and Lily.
My face turns red when the blue haired man rubs shoulders with me; it seems he hardly feels anything through the loose sleeve of the form-ftting cream linen button up he's wearing while I nearly topple over. It's not intentional but the small action defines just how truly solid he is.
I look away in an attempt to distract myself, tasting the sugary treat on my hands. They joke around behind me, roughhousing as guys do. I turn to Lily who has already long finished her sample, and is now ordering her gelato. I pout a little, unsure which one I like most but my existential pondering gets interrupted when the blue haired man bumps into me and the remains of my barely eaten hazelnut sample goes splat onto my chest, just below the base of my neck and gets onto the collar of my tank top.
He splutters in panic and scrambles to apologise, unending "I'm so sorry!" spilling from his lips. They're a nice shade of pink, matches the raspberry sorbet in the chiller. I squeak in surprise when he turns to the granny to ask for tissues and luckily she does.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hit you, oh my god-" He peels the linen button up off his broad shoulders, the sheen of sweat a result of the summer sun. A form fitting white tank top is left behind, the bulge of his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows spit in worry. "Here, please, take this and cover up, let me get you something to clean up," before I can blink, it's wrapped around me and smells like warm cedar, sage and sea salt, a forest beside the sea perhaps.
"I-it's alright-!" I freeze up as he gives me a wad of tissues kindly given by the granny running the shop, his hands easily dwarfing mine. There's almost one foot of height difference between us, I have to crane my neck just to fully see his face. "It's really fine!" I wipe at my skin gingerly, face redder than a tomato as I drain the entire European supply of embarassment. The spill itself isn't embarassing. It's having an absurdly attractive man stare you down while you clean up that makes my heartbeat speed up faster than the melting sweet treats on my remaining wooden spoons.
I let him pluck them out from my fingers to toss while I clean up and then I pause. He looks familiar. The gears churn in my head, mentally flipping through manila files of faces and it clicks like to password to a lock on a vault. His hotel room, is right beside mine. I saw him on the balcony yesterday night.
"If you like, you can change into that shirt first, I'll take yours to get cleaned and I'll get it back to you as fast as I can. Again, I'm so sorry…Please let me make up for it, I'll pay for your ice cream too." I don't have the heart to be angry at him, he looks like a kicked puppy. His bottom lip protrudes out even more and I nod, turning to Lily.
"Give me a sec, I'm going to change," I tell her and toddle out to the bathroom. I take my top off and button up the linen shirt he gave me. It's far too large but oddly comforting. The fabric is sunbaked and has a warm clean scent that's hard to replicate. When I walk back in, he's pacing the floor, holding a large cup, with all 3 flavours I was tasting tucked nicely inside. He smiles in relief and his arms shoot out, the cup between his palms.
"Here! I didn't know which one you wanted so um… yeah. Where's your hotel? I'll have your shirt there as fast as I can." His lashes are long, they bat at me. I thought only girls could do that. Huh… go figure.
"The Limoncina, by the beach." I momentarily get lost in his eyes, they're pretty.
"Okay yeah, The Limonci- Wait- what?" His eyes widen like he's seen a ghost.
"The Limoncina…Room 42, 3rd floor." I twiddle my thumbs, eyes glued to the floor tile.
"You're kidding. That's just beside my room." He lets out a smirk, not of bad intentions, but relief.
I nod, bashful as I shovel a spoonful of the gelato in my mouth.
"Let me make it up to you. I'm Song Mingi, here's my number… and let me take you out for dinner tonight?" He hands me his number scrawled out on receipt paper.
I'm convinced he's the devil. I'm being charmed, I must be. That boyish face, the smile, it all pairs too well. And the devil will have you doing strange things, alright.
"It's a date."