A Week In Rome | AWI series |✔

» tues - wed

Never did I think I'd spend a night in jail. Much less a jail in Rome.

My fingers were wrapped around the cold iron bars, wrists still irritated from the handcuffs they'd just been in. Officers conversed in Italian around us, and Max and I sat on the bench in the holding cell.

"This is crazy!" I hissed, pacing in the small room. "I can't believe we broke into the Colosseum. I can't believe I let you talk me into it!"

My heart raced as I imagined all of the consequences I might have to face. I was in an unknown city with unknown people, and sitting in a jail cell. How could things possibly get worse?

Max rolled his eyes and walked towards me, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Amora," He whispered, "Look at me."

I did. All I saw was green.

"I'll get us out of here. Trust?"

I nodded, still entranced by the color green.

"Trust."

Max gave me a reassuring look and walked past me, wrapping his hands around the bars. He was waiting for something.

As soon as the rest of the officers abandoned the room, he called out to the desk attendant to get her attention.

She was a small woman, maybe in her forties. Every now and then, she stole glances at Max, and I clearly wasnt the only one who noticed.

"Ciao belleza," Max cooed, his voice dreamy as he beckoned to the lady. A crimson blush crept to her cheeks as she glanced to her left and right, surprised when she learned that Max was speaking to her.

Tripping over her own feet, she came closer to the cell. Her gaze was fixated on the ground as Max flashed her a charming smile.

Max sighed solemnly, his lips pouting as he continued to woo her. I watched in amusement, thinking that this plan may just work.

"Devo chiamare mia madre. Lei sarà preoccupata per me," he said, his voice soft, dripping with feigned concern.

I swear I thought I saw tears glaze his eyes. Remembering to ask him to translate later, I stayed quiet and watched the interaction.

She nodded eagerly and walked closer to him, placing her hands over her heart.

Whatever Max had said to her was working. They spoke back and forth, Max continuing to play the broken, regretful boy role and the woman melting at his feet.

After one of his sentences, the woman glared at me. The look in her eyes seemed to resemble jealousy. But I could've been wrong.

It wasn't long before she opened the lock and let Max out. He bent down and placed a kiss on her cheek, placing a piece of paper in her hands. She giggled and scurried back to her desk, the huge, cheesy smile not fading from her lips.

The mingling voices of officers grew as they made their way back into the room.

Max realized we were running out of time, grabbed my hand, and out of the building we ran.

Yelling and screaming behind us echoed through the night.

We kept running. And laughing. The wind blew in our faces as our feet hit the ground hard, sometimes in puddles and other times on grass, and sometimes on concrete.

We ran hand in hand down the streets of Rome in the middle of the night as fugitives.

Who would've thought?

Rome was different at night. The city felt smaller, and somehow as if we were the only two in it.

After the screaming behind us was silenced and we could hear nothing but the occasional honking of car horns and the quiet patter of rain, we came to a slow stop.