PSEUMINO, VENTO AUREO.

✦.⁺ expectant.

═ ☆. YOU EXPECTED THE TWO FIGURES when they arrived.

It still sent a jolt through you, though. You pretended not to have noticed, your eyes sliding cooly back to your table.

In front of you was a tiny mug that cost nearly thirty euros. In this part of Naples, you'd be lucky to find anything cheaper. Open beside it was a thin laptop, the screen dark. Occasionally, you would tap on the mousepad and pretend to look at something, not wanting to seem impatient. Your reflection on the screen revealed none of the apprehension you were feeling.

You were remarkably good at that—masking your feelings behind a blank mask. Given who you were waiting for, revealing how you really felt wouldn't get you where you wanted.

The bell above the door chimed merrily, marking their arrival.

The café went noticeably quiet when the two figures entered. It was only a slight lull, a brief moment where everyone craned their necks and looked out of their periphery. People widened their eyes, nudged their friends. Then conversations picked back up, everyone pretending not to have noticed. But it was impossible not to.

He was radiant. His turquoise eyes sparkled, bright and piercing. He smiled easily, confidently, teeth pearly against perfect skin. The golden braid and three curls above his head were unusual but flattered his face. Draped over his shoulder was a dark rose blazer. It might've looked effeminate on anyone else, but on him, it was the robe of a prince. Giorno Giovanna's gaze swept across the café, not resting on anyone in particular, but you knew he had seen you. He exchanged a few words with the girl at his side, then approached the front counter, where the barista looked at him with starstruck eyes.

She was dazzling. Her bubblegum-pink hair was swept up like a flower in bloom, perfectly contrasting with her green eyes. Her black top bared a smooth, lean torso. Her patterned skirt swept above polished boots and smooth legs. She was small and delicate, but you didn't miss the underlying strength beneath those green eyes. Trish Una approached your table, hips swaying lightly. The smile she pulled onto her face was cordial, yet it didn't reach her eyes.

"Fancy seeing you here," Trish said. She took a seat beside you without asking, crossing one leg over the other. If she noticed the stares the other people in the café cast in her direction, she didn't show it.

You said nothing. You brought the tiny mug to your lips and cursed the frantic pace your heartbeat picked up. You couldn't be anything but collected around these two, not if you wanted in. The moment you showed weakness, they would be on you.

Quickly, you ran through the information you had on the pair.

Giorno Giovanna was the son of Naples' chief prosecutor. His family was old money, originally coming from England before finding it more favourable in Italy. His mother was a gorgeous Italian socialite who spent little time with her son and husband. Giorno was known to be generally considerate and easy-going. He was immensely popular among the males and females of the student body. Although he was charming, he didn't back down for anyone.

Trish Una was the only daughter of the university's chancellor. There was little to note about her mother, and the chancellor had always been mysterious. She'd been kept out of the public eye until she was fifteen, where she flourished under the attention. Trish's charm was different from Giorno's. She was blunt, to-the-point. Because her moods were susceptible to change on a dime, the student body kept their admiration of her to a smaller extent.

They were both freshmen, the same year as you. But with the way everyone treated them, they might as well have been royalty.

Giorno returned from the front counter, taking the seat opposite you. He set a pretty green drink in front of Trish and a slice of cheesecake for himself.