Tackling the Canvas

Chapter 21

Nora

I decided to stop obsessing over Australia and just enjoy being in Italy. God, this place was breathtaking.

We went to this small piazza, the kind you only see in movies. It was decked out for Christmas, with twinkling lights draped over stalls selling all sorts of holiday decorations, homemade food, and little trinkets. The air smelled like roasted chestnuts and cinnamon, and I could hear the faint sound of carolers singing somewhere nearby.

I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth, a kind of magic that made it hard to think about anything else but the moment.

I slowly approached a woman selling some adorable-looking lollies, each one neatly wrapped in colorful paper. They looked so sweet, I couldn't resist getting closer.

"Ciao, bella. Vorresti comprarne qualcuno?" she asked in a soft, friendly voice, her eyes sparkling with warmth.

I stood there, lips parted, wanting to respond but suddenly realizing—I didn't speak Italian. A wave of embarrassment crept up, and I felt my cheeks heat up as I stammered, unsure of how to answer without sounding like an idiot.

"Ne prenderà due, per favore," Owen's familiar voice broke through my flustered silence as he slid his arm around my waist, pulling me closer.

Relief flooded me as I leaned into him, watching the woman's smile widen. She nodded, quickly wrapping up the treats while Owen gave me a soft, knowing smile.

"Grazie," I muttered under my breath, feeling a little silly but grateful. Owen chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

"You're welcome," he whispered, his voice teasing, "I've got your back, Tesoro."

_____

We walked away from the stall, Owen holding the bag of lollies with one hand and keeping me close with the other. I couldn't help but smile as we wandered through the plaza, the air filled with the scent of roasted chestnuts and spices. Christmas lights twinkled overhead, and the buzz of people chatting in Italian was oddly comforting.

Owen nudged me lightly. "You're quiet. Still thinking about that lady?"

I shook my head, laughing softly. "No, I'm just taking it all in. It's... it's beautiful here."

He smiled, squeezing my hand. "Told you. I knew you'd love it."

We continued exploring, passing more vendors selling handmade ornaments and pastries, the festive atmosphere wrapping around us. Every so often, Owen would stop and explain something in Italian to help me understand the culture and little traditions I might have missed.

"Hey, look at this," I said, pointing to a small wooden nativity scene. "It's so detailed."

Owen grinned. "That's called a presepe. Italians take their nativity scenes seriously, especially around Christmas. You'll probably see one in every house, even ours."

I smiled softly, imagining a cozy Italian Christmas with him and his family. It felt like something out of a dream. But a part of me—a small, hidden part—couldn't help but think of Australia, of what awaited me in just a few months.

Shaking the thought away, I turned to Owen and wrapped my arms around his waist, burying my face into his chest. "I'm really happy here," I whispered, "with you."

His arms circled around me tightly, his breath warm against my hair. "I'm happy too, Tesoro. More than you know."

Owen leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. "Come on, let's keep walking. There's something I want to show you."