two lovable idiots and their love ... not as boring as just any tearjerker...no, one with ups and downs and dogs and food and a band and cars and cigarettes and much more...
on hiatus
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The dark liquid made a few swirls in the engraved glass Francesca held in her right hand. They had spent the remaining hours of their stay looking around the city and going to a rustic restaurant right on the water. Thomas and Damiano had disappeared to the bathroom and Victoria was smoking a cigarette. Ethan watched the young woman across from him intently. He let out a deep sigh to draw attention to himself. ,,What's on your mind, sweetie?" he asked the curly-haired woman in a caring manner. Caught off guard, she looked back at him for a long time, seemingly searching for the right words, until she lowered her eyes with a sigh and let out a soft "she". Waiting for an explanation, the dark eyes looked at her. ,,Man Ethan, I really have no idea what this is between us. I've never had anything like this with her, and it's confusing the hell out of me!" she said exasperatedly, looking at her counterpart in despair. ,,Do you have feelings for her?" he asked straightforwardly. ,,I don't fucking know. There is a part of me that never wants to part with this person again. That never wants to let Victoria de Angelis go away again and it scares the hell out of me! I'm scared shitless of that part of me, but when it comes out when I'm holding her in my hands, that part feels so fucking right!" she shot out all at once. Desperately, she looked Ethan in the eye, but he looked at her impenetrably before his lips curled into a grin. ,,What?" she asked, exasperated, brushing a strand of hair from her face. ,,Well, my dear Francesca, I think you will find out for yourself very soon." he said mysteriously, before leaning back in his chair and finishing his part of the conversation. But Francesca wasn't done yet and was about to protest when her phone rang and she quickly apologized to the other guests. ,,Ciao, Francesca Massouri here!" she greeted her caller, but Ethan only saw her falter, her face freeze and she hurried out the door.
Victoria noticed a breeze as the door slammed shut next to her. Out of politeness, she turned away from the person obviously on the phone and watched the messengers on the waterways. But she turned around in shock when she heard the very familiar voice and realized how angry it was. Francesca was sitting on the floor in front of the door, shouting in a heavy Italian accent at the small cell phone in her hand. ,,What do you want from me? Get to the point you *****!" Victoria stared down at her with her eyes wide open. She had never seen Francesca like this before and if she didn't have such a desperate look on her face, it might even turn Victoria on, but her only concern was the restless look of the curly head at her feet. Just as she had finished her cigarette and turned to take her in her arms, Francesca sobbed aloud. She looked at Victoria's face, who could still see the struggle in Francesca's brain to open up to her weak side, but she seemed to decide against it, standing up and wiping the tears from her face. Her lips tried to put on a stable smile, but she failed miserably and full of compassion Victoria closed her hands around Francesca's neck, who after a few moments put her arms around Vic's hips and seemed to want to press that body even closer to her. "You're making me soft," Francesca sniffed into the shallow blonde curls. A slight smile crept on Victoria's lips and as they stood there, in the dim light of some lanterns, in the middle of Venice, they realized it again: this is more than just fun.
That evening, not many people looked out and saw this scene, but I'll explain it to you from the eyes of an elderly lady who, full of sadness, thought of her husband of deceased times when she saw the two lovebirds.
There were two figures, barely recognizable in the soft light of the street lamps, clinging to each other like two who seemed to lose each other. It was the moon that seemed to make this moment even more magical. Somewhere in the evenings always came music, today was something, as only chance or the good Lord would have it, slow to hear. The taller figure moved her hands slightly and began to sway slowly in the wind. Ponderously, yet so easily, the smaller one leaned into the movements and began to sway along. There were hands holding each other, bodies brushing against each other, and peaceful laughter that drifted through the night. No, these were not two people who were about to lose each other. These two are just beginning to find each other.
