Max + Martha

Florence

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie—you eat it.

God I love Italian food. The moment Max and I crossed the Swiss border, our food became significantly more delicious, trading potatoes for tomatoes and basil, cheese, garlic and generous drizzles of olive oil. Florence was dizzying as it was beautiful. The cobblestone streets twisted and wound in seemingly random directions. Make one wrong turn, and suddenly you're looking at golden hills and tall cyprus trees, a reminder that you were one hop skip and a jump away from Tuscany.

It was really, really easy to get lost in, but Max and I somehow managed. He held my hand like a kid in a mall with his mother, letting me lead, saying soothing words when I was getting annoyed that we were lost. It happened more often than I was comfortable with.

On our first night, we stumbled into the Duomo by accident. If you could believe it. But that's exactly what happened to us, one turn and there it was. A massive cathedral in the middle of a narrow street, stretching as tall as possible. It was impossible to take it all in just one look, there were so many little details in the structure that we had to keep walking close and away from it. I had no plans of visiting it at the moment, but one wrong turn and whoops, there we were.

I loved it when cliches were real, and Rome fit its cliches perfectly—the bustle of the crowd was so loud that it felt like home, and a band was playing by the fountain, singing 'That's Amore'. Artists surrounded the piazza, selling pre-made paintings and portraits for a few euros a pop. Glancing around surreptitiously for polizia, blankets were laid down on the floor where men sold fake bags on the cheap.

Maybe we were closer to home than we thought.

Max was definitely in a good mood after dinner and a bit of prosecco—he was singing That's Amore and spinning me around the piazza, not giving two shits about the locals that watched the two crazy tourists in love.

"We should get married," he told me, mumbling drunkenly into my ear as we swayed.

"Maybe you should take me on a nice, normal date first," I joked, pinching his nose.

"But Martha," he grumbled, following after me as I walked towards the fountain. "I want to make babies with you. Now."

I threw my head back and started laughing, because I hoped to God that he was joking. He had to be, right?

"Max, I don't...oh god, I'm so sorry," I said, accidentally tripping over one of the bags being sold on the ground, not watching my step. The seller, who was on the phone, suddenly grabbed my arm and said something in sharp, harsh Italian. The terror that froze me in my spot was real, because the man's grip was strong, and he sounded particularly irate. Before I could say anything, Max gripped my other arm.

"RUN," He commanded, yanking me back and smoothing his hand into mine as we broke into the fastest run possible. Oranges, pinks, yellows and reds streaked my vision as we ran from the Duomo, my heartbeat pounding in my ears as we lost ourself in a crowd. Max turned a corner and grabbed my shoulders, touching my cheeks, my clammy hands and checking my bags.

"Are you okay, are you okay?" He chanted, seemingly unable to stop asking me the question as I wheezed and panted. Good god, I was not in shape.

"I'm okay," I promised him the moment I realized I could speak. "I'm okay."

"Jesus, Martha that was the scariest shit that ever happened," He said, pulling me into his arms and immediately kissing me, like he was trying to talk himself down from doing something much more rash. "My life flashed before my eyes. But you ran when I asked you to."

"I trust you," I told him, squeezing his arm a little harder than I thought. "In the moment, I didn't know what else to do."

"Let's get out of here," He said, tucking his hand around my shoulders, pulling me close as we walked, like he was trying to assure himself that I was still there. We were probably overreacting, when we would retell the story later, we would always be met with blank looks. But in the moment, just a little bit drunk on prosecco and risotto al funghi, it made me glad that I had him with me. It made me wonder if anyone else would be that scared or worried for me. It filled my heart with warmth to have Max in my corner.

I thanked him later, in our hotel room. That's what you do when you have a near death experience, right?