When In Rome ► Timothée Chalamet

9 | Painted Palms

Y/N

_

"I'll see you after class," I called out into the dorm, grabbing an apple from the kitchen, "I'll probably just come straight back here!"

Elliot's head popped out from behind the doorway, watching me toss my papers into my backpack, "are you sure you don't want to go to the presentation with me?"

The music division was hosting a presentation on what the summer program would look like, but I wasn't all that interested in violins and violas (or whatever they talk about).

"I'm sure," I confirmed, unlocking the door, "I'm not a classical music kind of person."

"Your loss," he teased, waving as I shut the door behind me.

Elliot had the afternoon classes, but language majors had to do both morning and afternoon. The curriculum was packed, and the course was stressful. Taking another bite of my apple, I slipped into the elevator and made my way towards the campus. It was hotter outside today than it was yesterday, so I regretted choosing to wear jeans.

I hopped up the steps to the Manzoni building, and hurried down the hall to room 244. I wasn't late, but I always wanted to arrive before schedule so I could get everything set up.

"Good morning Professor!" I said, walking in and seeing my teacher at his desk.

"Ah, italiano, signora," he corrected, pointing at me, "only italian in the classroom."

"Scusa," I apologized.

Academic rules were definitely stricter here in Rome, but I suppose that just followed the immersion aspect of study abroad. Climbing into my seat at the front of the classroom, I unzipped my backpack and took out my notebook. Flipping to a fresh page, I wrote my name on the top right of the sheet and set down my page.

Time to learn.

_

"As I said yesterday, this class will be difficult and fast-paced," Professor Enzo stated, tapping the board.

We had gone through the majority of classes today at a very slow pace, contradictory to what he seemed to think. Each class seemed to go by so slowly, which meant I didn't find it difficult in any way.

"That being said, "he continued, "your first essay will be due on Friday."

Well, that might not be the most ideal part of the class, either.

"Write about how Proverbs contribute to social beliefs and customs in Rome," he droned, "worth 20 points."

I heard the man behind me groan, but I managed to keep my thoughts to myself. It didn't matter how much I disagreed with an assignment, it was best not to be caught with an attitude in the class. Especially on the second day; we have a whole summer left.

I glanced up at the clock again, satisfied with the time displayed on the wall. We had less than a minute left of class, so I started to zip up my pencil case and pack up.

After this, I had no other classes, so I suppose it's time to go back to the dorm. If I was completely bored, I could always join Elliot at the music presentation. A couple seconds to the bell, a shadow fell in front of the window, making me glance over in curiosity.

And I found myself staring at a pair of green eyes, like yesterday.

Timothee had his back leaning against his locker, a brown satchel hanging from his shoulders. He was wearing a blue, short-sleeved sweater, with the collar of a button down popped up over it. Once we locked eyes, he grinned.