𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐲 | 𝟏𝟖+

LILY

034. CROSTOLI

"Do you think he'll like it?" I asked Artemis, who volunteered to accompany me on my outing. Much to Royces' displeasure.

It was a little warmer today, the light breeze causing my green blouse to flow. By the time I had finished getting ready, Royce had been waiting by the door and sent me off with a mindblowing kiss and a slap to my ass in front of Artemis.

I glance at Artemis, but he says nothing and only glares through his sunglasses into the ongoing crowd of people. I huff and pull on his sleeve. "Hellooo? I need an opinion." I nag him, and he doesn't respond.

Someone's not as peachy as the first time we met.

I turn away to pay the clerk, but she shakes her head; her bright blonde hair falls in waves around her small face. "For free," she says.

My lungs twitch. "No, no, I insist. Here." I push the money into her hand, but she smiles at me politely and pushes it back.

"I know a woman with feelings when I see one. And I'm assuming this man is not your lover?" She points behind me, and I wave my hand frantically, my heart pulsing.

"It's for a good friend," I dismiss politely.

She regards me with kind eyes and waves me off. "If you say so, honey. Just know that this man is a fortunate one indeed."

I chuckle nervously and bid her goodbye. We stopped along a few other streets and went through many shops-some with classic trinkets for tourists and mini pop-ups with food. Along the way, I got hungry and was in the mood for something sweet. I turn to Artemis, whom I have yet to know his name. "Do you have a favorite snack? Specifically, a sweet one?"

His blank canvas façade paused as he walked alongside me in heavy strides. He was around Royces' height, more on the leaner side, with shaggy red hair and ivory skin. "Not in particular. No."

"Oh, come on! You must have a favorite. At least a top three," I persisted, gripping the bag that held a prized possession.

His eyebrow twitched, and he muttered, "Crostoli." He looked a little uncomfortable speaking; a distinct accent could be heard beneath his breath. I don't think he was Italian.

"Sounds good to me. Lead the way, good sir." I smile gently, hoping to ease him of any discomfort I've caused him.

He clears his throat and blinks, leading me to a small pop-up with various pastries. I gaze at them with appetite, feeling the drool pile in my mouth from the warm sugary smell. No name began to converse with the owner and exchange euros for the flakey pastries. I thank the owner in Italian, but he just waves me off somewhat aggressively.

We sit a little ways away and begin to eat the flaky pastry. It was light and flaky and melted into my mouth. I almost moaned at the flavor; it was simple, yet I wanted more. "This is so good," I regard the man that sat across from me.

He nodded and hardened his gaze again while staring at the crowd around us. I kick his foot. "You act like someone going to shoot up the place. Lighten up, would you."

His gaze snaps to mine. "You say it so casually."

I shrug."I'm from America, where shootouts are more common than fraternal twins. You get used to the possibility." I take another and bite into it.

"You show no fear," he states with curious eyes.

My eyebrows pinch. "Like anyone else, I live in fear; I'm just better at hiding it. When you lived a short life like mine, you learn to live with the nightmares that follow."