You Must Be the One

White- 2/2

She's wearing white again when they meet in the lobby hotel; a button down paired with dark blue jeans, sunglasses down over her eyes, her hair tossed up messily.

She was just one of those people who stood out whatever she happened to be wearing and as cliche as he knew it sounded, it was the presence she had, the confidence she exuded wherever she went. It was incredibly attractive and he'd admitted to the thought more than once.

"You ready?"

Her volume is low, though they're completely alone, save for the front desk clerk who is completely absorbed with the phone call he's taken.

"Ready. And I'm so happy to be out of that suit," he says as they walk toward the door.

"Oh, I bet. You love wearing suits almost as much as you love interviews."

He chuckles, holding the door open for her. "I'd say pretty much equally."

"Hope you don't mind being trailed," she gestures over her shoulder toward Peter. "Doesn't make for the most romantic date, but..."

She's kidding; he knows she's kidding and yet the way he conceals an idiotic grin---dips his head, gaze diverted to the floor.

It's the Stefani effect, he's silently dubbed it.

"Peter loves me, so..." he jokes, quickly recovering.

"He really does, though. Him and everyone else."

Bradley smiles, toeing the ground with his sneakered foot. "Yeah, right."

She loops her arm through his, "come on. I'm starving."

"I know the perfect place, then. You up for a little walking?"

"You know, I had a feeling we'd be walking, so I made an effort to put on the proper footwear."

She lifts up her heel to show him and he steadies her by the waist as she sets it back down again.

"You were prepared," Bradley acknowledges with a wink, "good girl."

"And don't forget---I know you," she sticks out her forefinger at him. "Everything about you."

They hid nothing from each other during filming; full disclosure always, but it wasn't just for the sake of an authentic performance. He truly felt comfortable with her and he certainly he didn't feel like that with everyone.

"Guess it goes both ways, though." She takes his arm again, slinging her purse over the other. "It's a beautiful night."

The sky is so clear that the stars are the only elements visible and there's the gentlest of breezes, just enough to cool the heat wave Venice had been experiencing over the past week or so.

There's an overwhelming sense of peace as they stroll, arms still linked, stopping to periodically gaze into the windows of the little shops that line the streets. Most of them are closed for the night, but it's fun to peek inside and speculate how busy they must have been hours before ---bustling with customers, lining up to get their bread or sweets or cheese or meat.

They're mostly alone, save for a few random passerbys. He's confident enough that between their casual dress and how dark it is, they won't be recognized. Peter's steady presence behind is also a safety net and for the first time in months, he can feel all of the tension in his body ease, vertebrae by vertebrae, almost hear the sigh of relief his muscles release when it becomes clear that there's no pressing need to do anything except for just being together and enjoying the freedom.

She leans into him slightly, her shoulder resting against his chest. She's in his space, standing in front of him while they examine a closed flower shop.