Romanticismo Per Caso ❤

Pasta Date (Elias POV)

I woke up Sunday morning in my ginormous bedroom, thinking about the significance of the day ahead. Then it dawned on me, today marked the second date for Lorena and me. I couldn't understand why my mother insisted I take this job, but meeting Lorena made it all worthwhile.

Still, I remained uncertain about what Lorena's parents thought of me. However, I knew that their opinion, whatever it may be, was not positive. I sat down on a stool beside my kitchen island with a notepad in my hand doing the budget. I rolled my white t-shirt sleeves back, gazing at both the notebook and computer in front of me. My father's company business, SwiftNord Technology, was flourishing, and my profit was certainly rolling in.

SwiftNord Technology definitely was one of the richest companies in Sweden and I was hoping to take over it one day. My dad and I had a shaky relationship though, so I doubt this would happen.

I glance over and see the boxed pasta that would be cooked later. I bought the same type of pasta that we had from the restaurant. I envisioned Lorena and me, preparing that delicious pasta together, while I admired her in awe. I cherished her soul and the passion she poured into perfecting every dish.

She was going to be coming over around 12 which gave me time to set up for the date. A lot of people at work were growing suspicious of Lorena and me, but I paid them no mind. Our dates were simple and enjoyable, and their opinions held no sway over me.

Once it was close to 11:30, I left my house and drove to pick her up. She texted me again asking me what the food choice was but I was not caved to her curiosity. She would just have to find it out. "Hello Elias," Lorena replies after I knock on her door. She looks stunning, adorned in a beautiful blue sundress that accentuates her figure perfectly.

"Hello, Lorena," I greeted her with a smile. She returns the smile and gathers her things. "You'll really enjoy this meal that we're going to cook," I assure her. She looks up at me with a skeptical glance. "Will I?" she questions. I nod confidently, and she leads us to the elevator.

"If you press all these buttons again I'm going to go back to my apartment and you won't have a date." She threatens me, but I can sense the funny tone behind it. "Okay," I say, trying to sound disappointed. I go up to the buttons and press one button. "Elias!" She yells and I let out a laugh. "Don't threaten me, daydreamer." She rolls her eyes, but she still stares at me with happiness.

As we walk out of the apartment complex, I lead her towards my car. She matches my pace and walks with me in a light way. When we are almost to my car, I see that a stupid driver decides to pull back without looking. In protection and instinct, I place my hand on her back. "Did you see that? The person didn't even look back." I shake my head in anger. "I won't drive like that," I say to lighten the mood. "I hope you don't, precious cargo here," She looks up at me and I laugh at her comment.

When we are approaching my house, she looks out the side window in deep thought. "What's that beautiful mind thinking of?" She looks back at me with a tint of blush in her face. "Well right now I'm wondering what we're going to be making at your house." I pull in the driveway and proceed to respond to her. "You know what...I don't know what your favorite Italian dish is." I lock the car as we get out and wait for her to answer.

"Goodness, there are countless options," She thinks as I unlock my front door, ushering her inside. "Alright, let's categorize it then. I'll say biscotti for breakfast, Bolognese for lunch," I nod in anticipation as she continued, "pizza or garlic bread for dinner, and tiramisu for dessert." Setting my belongings down, I notice her glance at me.

"What's your favorite Scandinavian dish then?" She inquires, taking off her jacket. "Hmm, I love simple foods like porridge and beetroot. Sweden has amazing apple salads. But one of my absolute favorites has to be Kanelbulle." She ties her long brown hair back and asks a follow up question. "I've never heard of Kanelbulle, what's in it?" I neatly arranged the ingredients on the counter, and she joined me behind it as we both washed our hands.

"It contains a chewy cardamom dough with a buttery cinnamon-sugar filling. It's like a cinnamon bun but ten times better." She responded with a soft, understanding murmur. "So what part of Sweden are you from?" She asks. As I reached for a pot to boil the pasta, she took charge of filling it with water, deftly handling the handles and placing it on the stove.

"I am from Stockholm." I take the pasta noodles out of the container and start to break them. "Interesting," She says. "Where are you from Lorena?"

"I was born here, but my Nonna and Nonno were from Florence." "I've been there before, it's so beautiful." I respond thinking back to when I took photos there. "It truly is," She replies with a gentle tone.

After we finish making the pasta, we both bring our plates into the dining room. "Mmm," She says, savoring the meal. "We are great cooks," She tells me, wrapping her fork around the pasta. She takes her hair that is in the ponytail and moves it to the side. "We are indeed," I acknowledge in agreement. She laughs and for a moment we sit and eat in silence.

As we finished our meal, our eyes met, a moment of shared understanding passing between us. She broke the silence with her melodic laughter, stealing a glance at her phone. I couldn't help but wonder what she was going to say next as my gaze followed hers to the screen.

"I think it's time for you to drive me home," she announced, breaking the spell. I raised my eyebrows, a hint of disappointment coloring my expression. "Yeah, I suppose so," I replied, reluctantly accepting the end of our time together for the evening. Admiring her beauty, I rose from the table, moving closer to her as she stood with me.

"Do you realize how truly stunning you are?" I murmured, my words causing a blush to grace her cheeks as she wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands wrap around her waist. Our eyes locked, and she leaned in for a kiss, drawing me closer with a gentle touch. With my hand on her cheek, I savored the moment, cherishing the closeness we shared.

Lorena, my daydreamer.