Loving Marcello

Chapter Eleven

Marcello...

My mind repeats his name over and over again as I soak in the soapy hot water. The smell of lavender wafts along with the steam, creating a calming aroma.

My mind wanders over the day, and I think about just how odd the past 12 hours has been. He'd had his hand around my throat, and I laughed.

Where has my sanity gone?

I kinda want it back.

And then we acted like we weren't complete and total strangers.

For some reason, my mind can't stop raving about that specific detail.

I don't even know him, and I've just figured out his name. I let him carry me around.

Where in my mind did I decide that was okay?

I sigh, feeling ashamed of my actions all of a sudden as I sink further into the tub. Maybe Rome is doing something to me.

I just haven't figured out of it's good or bad...

I mean, I feel a lot happier than I had not even three days ago. I was tense and paranoid, snapping at everyone. And now I'm letting an Italian stranger carry me around. A sexy Italian stranger. But still, he could be a murderer for all I know.

This morning, he'd even warned me that he could kill me.

But he didn't.

Because we were out in public, obviously.

I sigh, getting annoyed with myself, I have got to stop thinking about this Marcello dude.

"Ugh." I groan, climbing out of the bathtub while snatching a towel and draping it around me.

Such a fluffy towel.

I hum contentedly as I cuddle the excess towel to my chest and rub it against my cheek.

Really fluffy.

With another sigh, I happily brush my teeth and bounce back into the room, throwing on an overly large shirt.

Deciding that I'm not that tired, I plop onto my bed, sinking into the softness, and grab my book I've yet to finish reading.

°•°●°•°●°•°●°

I groan, opening my eyes to overwhelming brightness. Something is digging into my thigh, but I can't find it in me to check. I'm too comfy to move.

"Ugghh." I whine, wanting the uncomfortable feeling to stop.

My hand wanders down, searching for the unknown object, pulling at it, only to hear a rip.

At the sound, my eyes shoot open.

My book.

Fuck fuck fuck. No! This was my favorite book of all time. Uncle Benny had gotten it for me on my 16th birthday! I could always buy another one, but it wouldn't have as much sentimental value, hence the reason I'm panicking.

I sit up so fast, dizziness makes an appearance. Attempting to shake it off, I study the damage. A couple pages are crinkled, but what gets my attention are tears on three pages.

I could always tape them...

But still.

"Hmph." I exclaim grumpily, not liking the situation at all.

Knowing that I'm making a much bigger deal of this than I should, I drop the matter and place the book gently onto the night stand beside my bed.

Feeling a little better as I study the room, I decide that I'm happy now and skip to the bathroom to brush my teeth and get rid of my morning breath.

Putting my hair up into a messy pony tail, I can't stop myself from smiling as I stare at myself.

I look brighter. And that makes me even happier.

I've never felt so giddy in my life.

Slipping on a pair of tight jeans and a loose white tee, I hurry out of the hotel room with my purse in hand, hoping to catch breakfast.

Lucky for me, I find a cute little cafe across the street of the hotel and sit down in one of the comfy-looking chairs placed around a table tucked into a corner. Noticing a menu sitting on the table, I pluck it up and begin assessing it, but don't recognize any of the foods.

After ordering coffee and a food that I'd embarrassingly pronounced wrong, I look out the window placed in front of me.

Many people wander the sidewalks, all sporting the familiar olive-toned skin and dark hair. Such beautiful people here.

Once I receive my coffee and food, I dig in. Mm. Not bad for not knowing what I was ordering.

And I don't know what they did to the coffee, but it tastes so much better than any Starbucks I've ever had.

Everything about this place seems so much better than anything back home. Even the simplest things.

It would be absolute paradise to live here. It seems so worry free, and people seem less judgmental than they do in America. I haven't gotten one nasty glare since I've arrived here, aside from Marcello, but that just seems like his normal attitude, so I'll let it slide.

Finishing up my meal, I pay and retreat from the cozy cafe.

I feel free not knowing anyone and being able to do whatever I want without people criticizing me, but I admit, I do feel a little lonely.

I miss being able to wave to people while walking the sidewalks to Derek's house.

I miss seeing Uncle Benny.

I almost face-palm as I fish my phone out of my pocket, tapping on his number. Why am I feeling sorry for myself and missing him when I can just talk to him with the tap of my finger? Silly me.

He picks up on the second ring with a cheery hello.

"Uncle Benny!" I exclaim happily.

"Hey, nice of you to actually call this time, kiddo!" He teases with a chuckle.

"Oh shush. At least I remembered without you having to remind me." I mutter, rolling my eyes even though he can't see me.

"Okay, okay, I'll give you credit for that." His laugh sounds again, "How're you liking the trip? Have you met anyone yet? Make any new friends?" He asks curiously.

I laugh lightly, "Eh. Not that I know of." I reply, deciding not to elaborate on Marcello.

"You've never been social." He says thoughtfully, "Oh! I have to go, Pumpkin. Work is tough these days." He grumbles.

"Oh yeah! I meant to ask...where do you work?" I ask, remembering my curiosity from my thoughts on the plane.

"I'll tell you later, kiddo. For now, I've gotta zip." He responds, but by the sound of his tone, I don't think he'll be telling me any time soon.

"Okay! I'll talk to you later, old man!" I call before his end of the line goes dead.

I stare at my phone a couple minutes after he hung up, then shrug.

Doesn't matter anyway.