x Reader (Mature)

2

It had been a week. 

A long week. Mostly filled with awkward language barriers as basically no one in the town knew English, and your basic Italian had been supplied to you by a couple of month of bashing Duolingo (the streak was something that you had genuinely been proud of. Eek.)

The quiet and sleepy way that the town operated made you feel more at home and relaxed. It was fun exploring the little library that looked like it hadn't been update in at least 30 years, and buying genuinely fresh fruit from the 4 stalls in the town square that called themselves 'the market'. 

Unfortunately the blaring sunlight and heat made it impossible to leave the house for more than 2 hours at a time, and the silence of the streets reflected that this was applicable to the whole town, so growing accustomed to life indoors was also developing.

So far the 3 meals a day shared with the other members of the house had made you aware of 4 things.

1) The person occupying the room at the opposite end of the corridor was a man around the age of 45, a self proclaimed archaeologist who at every afternoon meal would recite his hope that up in the mountains that were a mile away from the town he would discover something new and revolutionary. 

2) Elena, Giuseppe's wife, was a legend when working with pasta. Not only that, but she was perhaps the kindest old lady you had ever met, and you were willing to protect her at all costs.

3) Giuseppe ate very loudly. And very openly. If you left the table with no half chewed food particles sticking to you clothes after sitting next to him, it was going to be a good day and luck was on your side. 

4) The mystery man was no where to be found. 

You had of course asked about him at the first meal. 

"Mi scusi, c'e un uomo qui chiamato 'Ryan'?"

Elena had looked at Giuseppe in an innocent way as soon as you asked, and the archaeologist- Piero, hadn't even bothered to acknowledge anything happening apart from the fish that Elena grilled to perfection in front of him. 

"Is that his name?" Giuseppe laughed softly, taking his wife's hand into his and squeezed it lovingly, as if sharing an inside joke with her.

"Think so. That's what he said when I saw him fixing the tap." You replied, slightly confused, placing a juicy piece of food into your mouth and enjoying the flavours touching your tongue. 

"Ah that boy is a strange one." Giuseppe shook his head smiling. He left his wife's hand and also began eating his food with delight. "Came in all confident and emotionless a couple of months ago, paid for a year's rent straight up, and explained that he didn't wish to be disturbed. 

To be honest, we haven't spoken since then. I think only Elena has been able to befriend him and ask him to help out every now and then. She's adopted him as her son at this point, with the way she always praises him, calling him 'caro' (dear)  all the time. No wonder I forgot his name." He munched on his food as he spoke, and minuscule fragments of the fish fell onto the sleeve of your top, embedding themselves deep between the holes of the stitching. 

You eye twitched as you watched. 

"Ah stop Giuseppe. You just don't put as much of an effort into our guests like I do." Elena giggled, speaking in Italian as she didn't speak English as well as Giuseppe. She slapped his arm playfully, and then turned back to you with her kind and warm eyes. "He's in the room next to yours. Although you probably won't see him around much unfortunately. He disappears for days at a time, god knows where to." 

You smiled tightly in response, nodding your head slowly, before letting your eyes settle down at the fish on your plate. 

It's eyes seemed to be staring back at you. 

So the mystery man was mysterious. Surprising. Truly. 

After that first day and your talk with Giuseppe and Elena, you let the thought of him fizzle out. 

It had been a week since then. 

And as you sat down to dinner in the dining room after a long day of walking around various modest shops in the town asking around for job opportunities (of which you weren't sure if you had success with or not, as you weren't sure if the seniors knew what you were talking about in your broken Italian.) , you were surprised to see the mystery man sitting silently at the empty place that had been set for him fruitlessly at every meal for the past week. 

He was a complete marble statue, sitting emotionlessly. 

The light fabric of his button up shirt was creased and un-ironed, giving him a tousled look, and the top few buttons were undone, showing the speckles of dark chest hair and muscle. You found yourself taking in a sharp breath, and sit down at your place on the table, giving him an inconspicuous sideways glance. 

"Ah, ciao caro." Elena, appeared through the door, a smile immediately appearing on her soft, wrinkled face. She placed the large dish of green pasta in the middle of the table, and squeezed her palms together with her oven mits still on her hands, giving a look of pure happiness towards the man.

The man gave her a polite smile and a nod. 

You stole another glance his way. 

Maybe he was antisocial or something. This was how emo kids acted when having dinner with their families.

You looked away, dismissing him. 
If he was going to act like he didn't acknowledge you or anyone else, you would treat him in the same way. 

Without giving him another look for the rest of the meal, you focused on eating and avoiding the catapults from Giuseppe, as he laughed and shared stories about how Gianna, the little old lady selling vegetables at the market, had recently been caught by her next door neighbours putting out XL red lacy underwear on her washing line, despite not having a husband or any known lover. 
Even Piero the archaeologist perked up in the 'scandalous' conversation, offering his opinion. 

"A woman sometimes wears these things for her own pleasure." He had concluded, very matter-of-factly, and then lifted his head up slightly higher, as if he had solved the biggest mystery of all. It seemed pretty clear, as you cringed at his action, that he hadn't been with a woman before, or if he had, it must have been a very long time ago. 

"Not at the age of 60." Giuseppe retorted with a grunt.

Across the table, a silence loomed. 

The mystery man had remained quiet throughout the entire time. Eating politely, and passing food when it was asked of him. Not a peep was heard.

'Maybe he's a mute' you thought to yourself, followed by the immediate thought that you were an idiot who had no intuitive skills whatsoever. He had spoken to you already. 

But maybe he was a part time mute. 

Some people were just like that; never hearing anything, never saying anything. It summarised most men perfectly. 

"Grazie Elena." 

His deep voice quietened all the other noise on the table, and everyone looked over at him as he stood from his place. His presence seemed to fill up the space all of a sudden, and you eyes looked over the sharp features of his face. He looked like he had the capability to crush a piece of metal in his hand without any strain, but his lopsided, messy hair made him somewhat boyishly cute? 

His dark eyes met yours in an almost tense gaze, and your knees squeezed together to contain the flutter below your stomach. He was the first to look away. 

Walking out in a suave way, your eyes followed the muscles of his back as they tensed. 

Jesus, what was a beautiful man like this doing in a hidden place like this and not stealing hearts somewhere in the capital of Italy? 

Zoning back into real life, you wafted your thoughts away, almost scoffing at yourself, and turned to Giuseppe, 

"Maybe she was trying to get the attention of her neighbour with the underwear. Women can be suggestive like that sometimes." You offered, comfortably placing yourself back into the conversation, and leaning forward towards the others with a mischievous grin building itself onto your lips. 

"Ah, of course you women would be passively tempting like that." Piero the archaeologist shook his head as he looked at you, uptight and disapprovingly.