Una Cosa Più Grande ~ A Short Sprace Story

IX ~ A Beautiful Last Sunset

Oh my gosh it's a sunset chapter.

And my emotions are kind of everywhere right now.

So this is going to be interesting.

So the image above is the sunset image (from the Amalfi Coast, in Campania, where they're staying) that I thought works best wtih this story. I went through many, many photos. True, this isn't the most dramatic photo, but it doesn't have to be. This is the one that's true to their experience.

Oh, to say I'm ready for this would be a lie.

But saying that I am going to love every second writing this won't be.

Enjoy! :)

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Antonio and Sean now have plenty of time to unpack the car and stretch and go for a nice solid run after all that sitting in a car for literal hours.

Now it's 8:30 pm, and they're watching the beginning of the sunset.

Antonio loves the sunset.

He loves all the different colors, and what the sky looks like at each time of the sunset.

Right now, the sky is a brilliant golden overhead, just as the sun is beginning to go down.

Especially sunsets over the water. Like the sunsets over the water happening right here, right now.

He smiles.

He glances at Sean. He's smiling at it too.

They sit together in peaceful silence.

Until, naturally, on an impulse, Antonio breaks the silence.

"So, where do you want to have your last dinner in Italy later tonight?"

Sean looks at him. Antonio's eyes dart away.

"How well do you cook?" Sean asks curiously.

"I--what?"

"I know that Italians being really good at cooking is a stereotype, but honestly I'd ask this no matter what: how well do you cook?"

"...Are you suggesting you want to eat here tonight?"

"Well, it just occurred to me that I've been in Italy a little over a week and I've never had a homemade meal," Sean says. "If you are a good cook, I was hoping my last dinner in Italy could be meaningful--and home-made by someone I care about. I can't think of anything better."

Antonio is touched by all that.

"Unless you're a terrible cook," Sean adds quickly, jokingly. "Then we can eat out."

"I can cook," Antonio responds immediately. He puffs out his chest. "You shall not be disappointed stanotte quando mangiamo."

Sean grins. "Sounds great."

"So we can go back in and eat whenever you're hungry."

"Alright. Maybe later--I don't feel that hungry right now."

"Me neither. And maybe I can teach you a recipe or two," Antonio suggests. "For you to take home with you." Then quieter, "something to remember all of this by."

"I'll never forget any of this," Sean tells him genuinely. "Not any of what I've seen, what I've done, anything. That includes you. I am never forgetting you."