Milan.

uno

"So, what's his story?" I wondered, leaning back against the bar and nodding towards the far corner.

"Don't," Harry said. "I made that mistake once. He'll talk your ear off for an hour about mythology and ancient treasure. Rachel says he's a bounty hunter, but I think he's more of an explorer."

"How long has he been here?" I asked, not taking my eyes of the man, slumped over a book, glasses falling down the bridge of his nose, fringe in his face.

"In the bar or in the city?" 

"Either," I shrugged.

"The bar, apparently since it opened earlier. The city... who knows? Rachel guesses since the summer began. But, really, I wouldn't bother. People go up to him all the time, but he's just not interested," Harry replied, slumping slightly against me to keep his balance. Being a drunk twenty-something in Milan can really take it out of you, I guess. 

"I'm going to say hello," I decided, setting my water aside and standing up straighter. "He's really smart, yeah?"

"I suppose," Harry shrugged. "At least, he thinks he is."

I nodded, feeling even more determined. Just my kind of conversationalist. It seemed like nobody really had much of anything meaningful to say at this hour-- especially not Harry, who spent his time being slumped over either his drink or me, and occasionally the bartender, Rachel, who he'd gotten to know in the three days before I'd arrived. 

Our families were taking their annual vacation together here in Milan, and Harry, being only a couple years older than me, often spent his time with me as his drinking buddy-- even if I had no interest in drinking. I never really minded just sitting there with him all night; what else was I going to do? 

"Um," I said, standing an appropriate distance from the guy hunched over the book. Upon closer inspection, I noted that he had several more books piled up on the booth next to him, and about ten ignored beers cluttering the surface of the table. To his right, a half-empty glass of something brown and only slightly fizzy sat, looking rather warm and virtually impossible to enjoy. "Hi?"

"Hello," he replied. He didn't look up, and I couldn't gather his emotions from his tone, so I pressed further.

"What are you reading?"

"If you have a drink for me, just set it down there," he sighed, motioning to a free space on the table.

"I don't have a drink," I stated evenly. "Mind if I sit?"

"Only slightly," he replied. I wasn't sure if that meant I could only sit very lightly across from him, or if he only sort of minded my company. Either way, I slid into the booth across from him and placed my palms on the cool wood.

"I'm Liam," I announced, trying to sound confident. This guy made me feel unsure, though. Pretty much everyone in the bar was eyeing him hungrily, not that it was surprising; he was flawless. Tanned perfect with blemish-free skin and feathery, nicely cared for hair. His glasses suited him, but I could tell by the way he constantly adjusted them that he probably usually wore contacts.

He hummed in reply, turned the page in his book, and shoved his glasses up the bridge of his nose with the knuckle of his left ring finger. "Nice name."

"Thanks," I answered. "What's yours?"

"Louis," he mumbled, glancing up to look at me, eyes shining blue and clear. His gaze lingered longer than I expected it to, which caught me off guard, and I looked away awkwardly.

I cleared my throat and dared to look back. His eyes were replanted on the book. "Everyone in this bar wants to sleep with you," I pointed out.

"Including you?" Louis asked, absently fiddling with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Including me," I confirmed, trying to sneak a peek at the text on the pages of the book. "Good read?"

Louis looked up again, and then tilted his head to the left, smirking slightly. He then shut his book and slid it to the side until it lightly brushed the side of his half-empty glass. "Not really. I'm just studying up."

"Are you a student?" I asked, leaning forward, so he'd know I was genuinely interested.

"I know that everyone wants to sleep with me," Louis said, ignoring my question. "But you know what I like about you, Liam? You seem like you don't just want to sleep with me. You're probably the kind of guy that sticks around to cuddle, right? The kind that'll exchange numbers and friend me on Facebook and wish me a happy birthday and a Merry Christmas."

"Perhaps," I agreed.

"I need that, I think," he muttered, more to himself than to me. "I haven't actually had very many one night stands, believe it or not. I'm usually kind of busy."

"Huh. You'd think that with so many people interested," I joked, motioning at the warm, disgusting beers covering the table.

"You'd think," he repeated, nodding softly. "Alright, Liam, tell me something; how old are you?"

"Old enough," I shrugged. That's a lie. He's probably a bit old for me.

"You can't be over 20, right?"

"I'm 18," I shrugged. "Want to see my license?"

"I might card you later," Louis replied. He began to pile up his books and then pulled out his wallet and paid for his drink.

"Later?"

"Well, I'm not entirely sure how this one night stand thing really works, but I assume we need a bed or something. The toilets here are vile."

I nodded. "Want some help?" I asked, pointing to the books.

"Take these," he grinned, handing me a stack of three of the smaller ones. "If you want to say bye to your friend or something, I'll just get us a cab?" 

Author's Note- so, this is sort of how chapters are going to be! Frequent, short, straight-to-the-point chapters with cliffhangers and stopping points that seem to be somewhat in the middle of the climax of the chapter! I've always wanted to try and write like this, in small chunks of about 1,000-1,500 words per chapter. Hope you enjoy! Some chapters will be closer to 2,000 words, depending on how I feel, or what's going on. Much love, and happy reading!