𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘚𝘐𝘕 / 𝘋𝘈𝘔𝘐𝘈𝘕𝘖 𝘋𝘈𝘝𝘐𝘋

IV

Scriptonite — It's love (Eto lyubov')

Foaming waves crashed rapidly against the rocks on the shore, birds were singing their morning song, the wind blew from the sea. Damiano was standing in the backyard in only white sleep pants and making rare puffs of his favorite cigarettes, his short hair was playing with the breeze. He sighed heavily, lifting his head to the sun and biting his lower lip. It was an early morning, not a single soul around, just he and a view of the sea, maximum solitude. He looked back to his home, in the window he saw sleeping Bernadette, she hugged his pillow so hard and threw back the blanket, hence Dami could notice some marks of love he made last night. Dark-haired smiled and made another puff, returning to the sea. That letter he got yesterday scared him, even while sleeping with Dett, he thought about it, who knows and what exactly, the only suspect was his girlfriend's father, but it wasn't his own style, he would burst into their house with a weapon and put it to Damiano's head, and his daughter would be locked in a mansion, nevertheless, it was just a letter with a short phrase — I know what you've done. David sighed deeply and clenched his teeth, closed his eyes trying to calm and remember only one thing holding him into reality — the first date with Bernadette. 

Bright flashlights at the annual festival of light directly into eyes, while Damiano was walking through the shops in the central square decorated as it was a Christmas eve: the smell of the fresh bakery, especially pumpkin pie, hot chocolate, and coffee, everything made this unforgettable atmosphere of Italian autumn. Dette was near and was looking for a chance to get closer to the guy, but still didn't have enough courage to hug Damiano as more than friends.  

"What's the last book you've read?" curly asked, trying to take another bite of caramel apple, her pretty cheeks were smeared with sweetness. She was wearing a big black sweater, denim jacket, and brown pants with rough leather boots, her hair lying cute on her shoulders. She represented the fall, which caused only a smile on his face Damiano, who dressed about as well. And beauty.

"Eat, pray, love," he confessed a little embarrassedly, looking down at his shoes. Dami was bored and remembered a book his mother finished reading recently, she was really excited because of a woman's story and inspiration, so David decided to read it. 

"I've read it twice and watched the film around thousand times," she laughed, making a huge bite of an apple, so her lips were all in caramel and Damiano noticed it, opening a mouth.

"You have this, here," he raised his fingers to her face with a little tissue, "oh, sorry," Damiano drew back, getting what he's just done.

"It's okay," curly smiled, feeling that warmth in her chest from his proximity, she pursed her lips, "my last book was "Shadows in Paradise" by Remarque."

"Something smart," Damiano shook his head laughing.

"That's interesting, like, do you know why his characters are always drinking?" Damiano put on a smart face and frowned as if he knew the answer, to which he received a light blow on the shoulder, "Remarque is an author of  Lost Generation, all he saw is a war and ruined life after it. Roughly speaking, his characters don't "decorate" their life, don't use colors, and drink alcohol so as not to see the world so clearly. They have nothing to live for."

"We all have something of Remarque," David pushed the shutter of the photo booth, "what do you live for?"

Bernadette bit her lip looking into the dark sky.

"Balance," she nodded, smiling, repeating sense of "Eat, pray, love", "and you?"

"To taking photos with you."