A Week In Rome | AWI series |✔

» wednesday

Max was dying, yet he was the most alive person I'd ever met.

He didn't have any complaints of the world, even though the world he loved so dearly held an ill fate for him. I'd seen unrequited love countless times, but there was none like the one between him and life.

"I can't believe my ticket came with a personal tour-guide," I joked as walked down the steps in front of the motel. After our eventful night, I slept like a baby, dreaming too much of lights, home, and the color green.

Max stood at the bottom of the steps, clad in a dress-shirt that hugged his upper body, pants, and of course, his suspenders. How he dressed so nicely every day was beyond me, especially since my only options were two t-shirts.

He held an arm out for me to intertwine mine with, so I did.

"And I can't believe I get to be your tour-guide," his words seemed sweet at first, "Oh what did I do to deserve such misfortune..."

I playfully smacked his arm, enjoying that he refused to bring up my breakdown from last night. It was no doubt one of my lowest points, and he'd witnessed it all. And kept it a secret. More than that, he didn't feel sorry for me.

"So what's on our agenda today?" I asked, my eyes roaming the streets we walked on. I'd been reading about the countless museums and historical sights to see, and there were so many of them that I'd never know which ones to go to first.

Max seemed offended at my words, his eyes boring into mine as we came to a stop at a busy traffic light.

"No agendas. Agendas are boring." He huffed and tugged on my arm as we crossed the street quickly, the many drivers on the road growing impatient.

Once we crossed the street, Max came to an abrupt stop.

"Right or left?"

He stood still, waiting for me to direct us.

"What?"

He looked at me incredulously. "Right or left, Amora?"

Confused, I shook my head, and blurted out "right." He grabbed my hand and we began walking faster to the right, this particular street being home to residences and offices. We walked straight ahead and once we came at an intersection again, Max stopped, raising his eyebrows at me.

"Right."

I figured out the dynamics of his game as we kept going, running hand in hand through the streets, and eventually ended up in a plaza full of food carts and small shops.

Something caught Max's eyes and they widened in excitement. He ran over, tugging me behind him.

We came to a stop in front of a flower cart, various vibrant colors sprawled across the stand, concealing an elderly man.

Max told me to wait as he walked over, speaking to the man enthusiastically. He returned with a violet flower, holding it out to me cheekily.

It was the same shade as my shirt.

"For you ma'dam." He bowed, lips stretched in a grin.

I laughed at his childishness, and took the flower between my fingers, bringing it to my nose.

"Thank you, sir." I curtsied, realizing that I wasn't sure where to put the flower. Max, watching me fiddling with it, gently took it from my hands.

"May I?" He asked, reaching for my hair. I found myself nodding, even though I was not entirely sure what he was asking.

His hand pushed my hair aside and tucked the flower behind my ear. He smiled, content, and stepped back to admire his work.

"Capolavoro," he whispered, eyes locked onto mine. "Masterpiece."