Whispers of Passion ✔️ | (18+)

58 | Memories

DANTE
***

As Diana and I sat close together on the couch, the flickering light from the TV cast a warm glow across the room as The tape Diana digitized and combined clips of us from the 80s to the 90s began.

The clip opened with a slow fade-in from black. Diana was shown dancing in front of her apartment building in Bed-Stuy, with her blown-out hair and earrings bouncing as she snapped her hands to the beat of the song she was humming. The footage had a slightly blurry quality, but it was still possible to discern what was happening. Her dance was interrupted when a stranger cast a weird glance in her direction. As the stranger passed by, Diana shot them a dirty look over her shoulder and then let out a boisterous laugh, quickly composing herself.

"You're something else," I remarked with a smile, my admiration evident in my tone.

The next clip was of her interviewing me on the stoop of her apartment building, a step below me. I hunched over, my elbows on my knees as I stared across the street.

"Favorite color?" She asked, a muffled chuckle escaping her lips because of her silliness. My eyes flickered to her with a small smile, knowing she couldn't be serious for a second. Before answering, I shook my head in amusement. "Black."

"Favorite person?" She asked, her tone suggestive and giddy.

I never realized until this moment how blatantly obvious it was that I was infatuated with Diana. The way my eyes lingered on her, and the genuine smile that spread across my face whenever she talked, spoke volumes about my feelings.

I feigned thinking, my hand on my cheek as I did so.

As I uttered the words "Dante Luciano," A mischievous smile spread wide on my lips. I deliberately averted my gaze from her and directed it across the street once again, eagerly anticipating her inevitable disapproving response.

Without any hesitation, she whacked my leg, expecting a different answer. "I'm joking, I'm joking." My smile grew wider, "It's you."

"You promise?" Her painted pinky came into view.

"I promise." I took her pinky in mine, my gaze softening as I gaped into hers.

The clip shifted quickly, one of my cousins filmed me and Diana speaking to one another, looking just as close as we are now.

"They've got it bad for each other," remarked a familiar voice in the background, its Brooklyn accent adding to the nostalgic ambiance. "Yeah, no doubt," another voice chimed in.

"Dante's quite the lover boy, don't you think?" Vito, one of my cousins, said when I pushed a strand of Diana's hair back into place and she leaned into my touch.

I used to always deny it, but looking back now, it's quite amusing to see how obvious it was that I was in denial.

As the footage transitioned to the '90s, the hairstyles and fashion changed along with the quality of the videos, but our bond remained the same. We were still inseparable, still laughing and joking as if nothing had changed.
But amidst the lighthearted moments, there were also glimpses of deeper conversations, moments of vulnerability and honesty that revealed the depth of our connection.

As the tape came to an end, the room was filled with a sense of nostalgia and warmth, a reminder of the journey we had been on together and the love that had always been at the center of it all.

But the nostalgic daze was interrupted by the buzz of my phone. "I have to take this." I peered down at Diana, disappointment clear in her face.

She nodded, allowing me to leave to answer.

I walked out of the room, answered the call, and put the phone up to my ear. "It's Alessio."