[MATURE CONTENT]
"Arancini isn't the most fascinating thing on the menu, Coniglia." he commented, taking a long sip from his glass of stark red wine. "You clearly have no taste."
I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "And what is it on the menu that surpasses...
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Taya and myself had been given two choices: sleep, or food. And though both offers were equally tempting, there was only one thing the two of us had truly desired more than anything.
My eyes fluttered open, looking up at the ceiling. I was tangled in clean sheets that truly smelt like a bed of roses. I sighed, stretching, joints cracking admirably. My skin delighted in the warm silk, allowing myself to be tickled by the fabric. The pillow I'd slept on was so plush, soft enough to prevent any neck stiffness.
Eight hours of undisturbed slumber—about the best fucking sleep I've ever had in my entire life.
I sat up, breathing the fresh air in. Looking around the room, I spotted Taya on the other bed. I giggled when I saw her sprawled messily in the sheets, left leg hanging on one side of the bed, and hair so matted she could easily host an entire bird family.
On my right were sliding doors that led to a balcony. I edged myself out of bed, and moaned lightly when my feet met with the coldness of the wooden floor. It was so satisfying.
I made my way to the doors, prying them open and stepped outside. The view was marvelous. Since the guest house was on a hill overlooking the Scopello beaches, we had been granted a fascinating view of the clear blue sea.
I pressed against the railing, indulging in the beautiful sounds downhill: waves crashing, children playing in the sand, birds singing. It was all so mesmerising, and without a second thought, I skipped into the room to grab my notebook and camera, really wanting to record this memorable scenery.
"What you writing there?" asked a voice a little while later.
I looked up and saw Taya leaning against the door frame. She was rubbing her eyes, and it didn't take long before a long yawn followed.
"Ah, don't swallow me!" I said stupidly, laughing at myself.
Taya rolled her eyes. "You are the embodiment of Uncle Bow." She strolled over to where I was, taking a seat on the other metal chair opposite from where I sat.
We had an entire vintage dining set up here, with two chairs and a table woven in rusted metal. Hearts had been curved in the backs of the chairs, and the guest house people had decorated the little table with a clear vase holding a single red rose, one made of plastic.
I loved the clichés of this island so much.
"I'm just writing out what I see. Snapping a few photos." I scribbled some more in my notebook, giving Taya an answer to her previous question. "You know, the view, the romantic balcony. Tch, the whole damn island."
"Ooh, wanna add Raffaele in that?" Taya said, and I could practically hear the smirk in her voice.
I rolled my eyes, ignoring her. "What I want, is to go downstairs. I'm kinda fucking hungry now." And then as if on cue, my stomach groaned, grumbling loudly.
