Fly Away

17 - fireworks and a goddamn zoo

Song: Steve Lacy - Bad Habits (Slowed + reverb)

Mia

I understand why I'm wearing a dress now.

The glaring sun is sweltering as we step out of the car and towards a beautiful white mansion. I have no idea what we're doing here, and for the whole car ride, not motorbike ride, Rocco hadn't said a word. I had asked him multiple times where we were going and what errands he needed to run with me there, but he had just looked straight ahead at the road, his expression cool indifference as he drove.

I didn't think he was one for a car, since he had ridden me on his motorcycle before, but I guess there's still a lot for me to learn about him.

I blink up at the enormous house, my eyes nearly breaking out of my sockets at the view.

A large fountain sits off to the right of the long driveway of the house, clear water running down a neat and basic structure of ceramic and stone. The sound itself soothes me.

The whole structure of the house is gleaming white stone, arched windows set in around the front face of the house, a red front door the only sign of colour.

Rocco locks the car door and walks around the hood towards me, and then we walk.

I follow him around the back of the house to a black gate with what looks like steel needles on the top, clearly used to deter any trespassers.

I'm about to ask him why we didn't just go to the front door, when an older gentleman in a tuxedo, carrying a silver platter of what looks like champagne glasses, appears on the opposite side of the fence.

His grey hair is combed back neatly atop his head, and his expression is blank. He offers us both a small, polite smile which doesn't reach his eyes, and he eerily reminds me of Lenny.

That reminds me, I haven't seen Lenny in a while. I wonder how he is.

"Monsieur Fiori, Madam Fiori." He bows his head slightly, and I'm so caught off guard at the gesture that I send a glance towards Rocco.

He's standing with his hands in his pockets, clearly not phased by the man in front of him, his expression masked as usual.

I'm about to tell the man that he should call me Mia, but e starts to open the gate, using an old fashioned key to unlock the padlock.

I find the sight unusual although rudimentary, a contrast to how modern but old the house looks, and when the gate opens, we both step through.

Rocco's arm brushes against mine, and his warm hand envelops mine, palm to palm, out fingers interlaces, and a warm feeling settles at the pit of my stomach.

I peek up at him with a questioning gaze, and when he looks down at me, his eyes are swirls of deep honey and chocolate and fire.

"Remember to follow my lead okay? People are expecting us to act like a married couple." His statement catches me off guard, that specific word act, hitting me right in the chest.

I have a feeling though, that Rocco doesn't really care about people's expectations of him, and he just does what he wants.

I'd have to see how true that is.