Antilove

Trentacinque

CAPITOLO TRENTACINQUE

a little gift

***

A SPIRITUAL HUSH blankets Rose and Lucien, a gentle cradle that keeps the both of them talking in muted tones. They are in one of Rome's most famed cathedrals, the San Giovanni basilica in Laterano, a beautifully structured monument on Italy's artistic and religious landscape.

    "I can't believe all this is manmade," Rose whispers. She has to angle her head a few degrees upward to Lucien who bends slightly so that he can hear.

    Every surface of the cathedral is ornately decorated with sculpture, architectural element, mosaic, and fresco. It stuns Rose with its breathtaking interior—she did not expect much when they were approaching the building even though she knew that its sheer height was already impressive enough. Lucien had mentioned to her late last night that this was one of his favorite places to visit a few centuries back. "When more of the original church remained," he had said.

    This morning, he seemed to have forgotten their conversations last night and was almost surprised when Rose suggested they take a visit to the basilica. Rose remembers the slow grin that spread across his face, a sign of his delight that he tried so hard to tame.

    "I was there," he whispers back to her. "When it was first constructed."

    Rose ignores his gloating and feels a shiver cross the nape of her neck, feeling his breath so close to her ear. "Imagine getting married here."

    "Is that all churches are to you? For marriage?"

    "Well, I wouldn't know. Confession maybe."

    He laughs lowly. "You'd have to get married in the side chapel, not in the main hall. At least that's how it was a few years ago. I haven't been back in a long time."

    "How come?"

    "Even sometimes, home doesn't feel like home."

    Rose grows silent at his remark and bites her tongue—it will be too invasive to ask what she wants to ask. Instead, she peers at his profile, an action she has done numerous times already these past few hours, and sees the light softly illuminate the waves of his hair, turning them a chestnut color that Rose has not once perceived. Perhaps it's the filtered lighting of the church or the way it bounced off the white marble and gilded ceiling.

    "I understand," she can only say.

    They take their time ambling around the basilica and Lucien is patient as Rose studies each sculpture and design. Her neck is already sore from tilting toward the sky—Lucien's height does not ease the difficulty. She already spent quite a while examining the frieze on the basilica's façade, before Lucien reminded her that he still had a garden he wanted to take her after.

    "Have you ever gotten married?" Rose suddenly asks. "I wouldn't be surprised so you can be honest with me."

    "No."

    "Huh. Everyone has their reasons I guess. What about a lover you can't forget?"

    "Rose..." There is a warning in his voice but a smile lands on his mouth. "You can probably call me one of those people who don't believe in marriage. Especially given my status. I've always had a fascination with churches, however, but just no desire to ever be wedded in one. It kind of goes against my nature, doesn't it?"

    "It's been difficult hasn't it?" Rose feels his reluctance and tries to understand the burden of his birth but can't quite fully grasp it—it is just a few centimeters from her fingertips but try as she may, she seems to lack a will to step forward and clasp it around her two hands.