The Runaway Professor

3. Foreign language

All in all, I could imagine this to be my new day to day routine. Taking away the sudden and slightly overwhelming heat, the nonstop sweat pooling under my arms, back and even in the curves of my knees, the dull pulling at the base of my skull and not to forget the elderly lady yelling at me in a foreign language, whilst all I desired was a cup of water... well except for all these minor inconveniences, I could imagine the following three months to go smooth as butter. No orders of any kind like "do this" and "do that". I would be free and most importantly I'd be me for as long as the time being allowed it.

Stepping outside, after the plane landed was as if someone punched me right in the guts, but in a more than just pleasant way. I had no idea where I would go or how to behave, and for once I was allowed to not think twice as to how I were to approach someone. A stranger. I could approach a stranger without my mom barking into my ear to leave them be. I strongly believed she had some issue with regular humans. A thing about hygiene? Maybe.

"A water?" My brows furrowed once I attempted to order at the café for the tenth time. I even made sure to pronounce it clearly, since I used to either exaggerate or swallow a few syllables.

The saggy cheeks of the grey haired lady sunk along with her thick eyebrows. The bun at the back of her hair must have been uncomfortably tight these past minutes. She exhaled deeply and I prepared myself to be yelled at as I have not yet experienced it.

Her thin lips parted, though instead of her raspy old voice it was a slivery laced tone speaking from my right.

"Mi scusi," she started and spoke words I could not understand for the life of it. "...per favore."

And as she finished her sentence or sentences, hell knows what that angelic voice just sang, I swear I sensed myself fainting.

A muttered few words left the elderly lady's mouth as she threw her hands in the air. Such a dramatic little woman.

"Lo so," the woman replied and chuckled. "...americani..."

I turned my head and set to explain I was not americano, but then it seemed quite unimportant. I could be American in these three months. Hell, I could be French if I wanted to. No one knew me.

My face softened at the sight of the woman's sparkling blue eyes in the middle of her tender appearing face. A couple of lines formed left and right on her eyes as she offered me a warm smile. Blonde hair framed her porcelain coloured face.

"My bad," she spoke and her perfectly polished teeth flashed. In every advertisement there would have been a sparkling star decorating her smile now. "So, what brings you here, mh?" She asked once we were seated at the bar, me gulping down the cool water as if I had spent days in the desert and she elegantly wrapped her fingers around the martini glass, sipping on it with pursed pink lips.

"Money for sure." She grinned and it allowed dimples to appear left and right, close to her lips' corners.

"I see." The blonde haired woman nodded. "I suppose the greatest secrets of life will be exposed when it is time."

I giggled like an idiot, forcing heat to travel up my face. We note: two drinks on a plane plus unbearable heat were not the smartest move to impress a beautiful woman. "Are you always so philosophical?"

"Absolutely not, I strongly believe it is Italy doing this to me." I gazed at her and carefully took in the way her mimic changed with the way she talked about different topics.

"Well, I will enjoy three months of doing absolutely only what I wish to do." I grinned at her statement, which she mirrored.

"So, what are you running away from..?" My eyes squinted whilst my lips wrapped around the straw of my rather sweet mojito.

"We really want to start this now, cupcake?" I rolled my eyes at the nickname and covered the print of the grey tank top I wore.

Why did I think wearing a t-shirt I sleep in was a smart move? And why on earth did I have to keep the shirt my High School best friend and I bought? A fucking cupcake... of course. I did not exactly have a hot, slightly older woman in mind, when I threw this on earlier today.

"It was just for the flight..." I mumbled and took another sip of the drink.

"I think pink is just your color, cupcake." She winked and I slapped her thigh playfully, only now noticing she wore shorts. My cheeks blushed and she chuckled with delight. "Gosh, you are adorable."

I did not want to be adorable, I thought, but had no time saying it. A call came in and she gave me the look. A gentle hand caressed my shoulder before she excused herself to take the call outside. Then it was just me and my drink, staring at her half-full glass. Stomach sinking, I placed the money on the bar, paying for our drinks.

I slipped out of the stool and was met with no blonde beauty out the front. Lips stretched into a thin line, I nodded to myself

Unfortunately, I did not ask for her number or thought about slipping a note with mine into her pocket. Therefore, my mood was naturally damped as I wandered through the streets, looking for a place to stay. Yet, the location appeared to be more than just unfortunate for such. Another bar it was then.

An Uber took me to one and once I stepped through the door, my memory was gone. Black. Nothing.

When I awoke again, eyes cracked open I was wrapped in white sheets and warm air blew into my face. All I remembered was not knowing my own name as the way too bright sunlight shone through what seemed to be curtains. Not to mention I had no idea what the blonde woman was called. All I truly knew was her choice of drink.

Did I hook up with someone at the last bar? What exactly was the last bar?

I frowned and turned around in the sheets in attempt to find any indication as to where the fuck I was —and meanwhile I stirred movement took place beside me. Basically, it was not just the where and what I needed to find an answer to, but the who as well.

On the brighter side I can at least answer the question regarding the hook up, once my thighs moved along one another. The soreness spreading along my skin and crotch was a clear yes, or I sat down in sand without bottoms on... I hope it was a hook up.

Crawling over the sheets to take a look at who the mystery woman beside me was, hope earning my heartbeat to quicken, I was met with a mane of deep brown curls pooling in the pillow and tanned skin. My heart sunk, though it was quite realistic to find a pretty woman in my bed that was not the blonde one I had left at the bar.

My facial expression fell. "Fuck!" I whispered and covered my face, my back falling onto the mattress again. I left her there. Her purse was still at the bar. "I'm an idiot."

Movement happend next to me and I did not care she would be met with my bare chest, since I had stripped down the sheets due to the heat.

Eyes remaining closed I exhaled deeply as if it would take away the disappointment. Though, I quickly realized this was only the beginning of my trip. It was just the start and I already had hooked up with someone. And from what my body seemed to recall it was not bad.

She must've gotten up or moved around the bed. For all I cared, I was sweating and how could I still keep thinking about a woman I could have possibly had, when I did have had a pretty woman last night? I was fucked in the head.

A voice was cleared, but I was sure I would not understand a word just like at the fist bar. "You should take a shower," with an accent laced she spoke firmly.

It almost sounded like an insult and I would not take that. Brows pulled together, I was met with her brown nipples and welcoming expression. A smirk fell onto my lips and when the blonde woman's image appeared next to the brunette I moaned in delight.

It was just then that a sharp pain hit my head and my eyes snapped open, offering me the face of an elderly lady I was oddly familiar with. A wooden broom in hand and ready to hit me again, I got to move my body away from the ground.

And after she yelled at me and I realized I laid on the footstep of her bar, I questioned my sanity.

Did I ever leave the bar?