You can do this, Lovino. You're really damn good at this.
Just walk up to her. Walk up to her when she isn't looking and don't stare at her chest. You know how much those faze you.
If she turns around, give idle chat. Pretend you were just wandering around, and then you spotted her. Don't stare at her chest. Talk about the scenery. You know this place like the back of your hand.
It looks like she has a camera with her. Looks expensive. And her purse is Dolce and Gabbana. You didn't notice that before. She has good taste.
Stop glancing at her rack, Lovino. Just reach for her-
Fuck, she's turning around. You're gonna have to try again a little later. Damnit, Lovino, just do it already!
A girl was asking him where he saw her group last. She seemed to have lost them in the crowd. Pretending to mull over the question, he straightened the half-popped collar of his fashionably-soiled (or so he'd like to think) dress shirt and pointed in the direction of the Colosseum, where the crowd was the thickest.
The girl, who was probably a few years older than him, winced at the sight of the mob of people, but thanked him anyway in chopped Italian. Her accent was French, Lovino noted. She was really pretty. Her breasts were really pretty too.
And she apparently thought he was quite dashing as well - a faint blush coloured her high cheekbones as she asked him if he could show her the fastest route to get there. Lovino nodded and smirked a little, offering her his left arm. He made sure that his one dimple was showing, and her blush deepened.
The Italian teen yelled at the streets for the passerby to clear the way. He learned over time that shouting at no one in particular makes people stop in their tracks, which gives whoever needed to get somewhere a temporarily-set path. Grabbing her wrist with the slightest of pressure, he quickly weaved his way through the crowd with practised ease, looking back every now and then to see that she was keeping up quite well due to her long legs. What great legs they were, Lovino thought.
Eventually the two reached the tourist entrance of the Colosseum. As Lovino stopped to catch his breath for a second, he caught sight of a group of college-age students who were waving their arms in a maniacal vigour. The girl, however, did not, and as a rather large crowd passed by in front of them, Lovino tapped her forearm twice and whispered close to her ear where her group was waiting for her. Her face heated up as hot as the breaths he was letting linger near her ear and she quickly thanked him again, obviously flustered. Lovino responded, "Nessun problema," and smiled at her before waving goodbye.
Un, due, tr- The girl turned around with a shy grin and walked back to him again. Her right hand playing with her braid, she asked him if she would see him around again. She was going to stay in Italy for another four days or so for university visits, she said.
Lovino raised one practised eyebrow in suggestion and smoothly told her that he was around here almost every day. It was true. "Como ti chiami, mi tesorina?" he then asked, rolling the words of his native language off his tongue charmingly.
"Mi chiamo Monique," Fishing her smartphone out of her purse, she looked at him with a hopeful glint in her denim-blue eyes. "Qual...qual è il tu-tuo numero di telefono?"
"Non preoccuparti. Penso che ci vedremo presto." The Italian winked. He then reminded her of her friends who were waiting on the opposite site of the large passing crowd, and lightly pushed her towards the mass of people with a teasing smile.
"Ok! Grazie, signori!" Lovino waved goodbye when she turned around to look at him one last time.
She had forgotten to zip up her purse after she had taken out her phone. Lovino walked quickly to catch up to the girl.
Any belonging left open is the number-one thing to remember when walking around in crowd-ridden places, especially if leaving it open will expose an item of value. He remembered that excerpt from reading an English travel pamphlet left on the stairs of the Palazzo Senatorio. The sentence thudded in his ears as he thrust his arm out behind her.
Her wallet was surely in her Dolce and Gabbana. Did she not pay attention to the travel pamphlets? Lovino could probably say with confidence that one out of every 20 people walking in Rome right now was a pickpocket. You could also tell her that her purse is open, he reminded himself as his dexterous fingers wrapped around smooth leather, and he pulled the wallet out carefully, discreetly, artfully making as little disturbance as possible. The pamphlet kept stressing about thick crowds as well. How could she not have taken the precaution?
He stuffed it in his pocket and expertly dodged the moving bodies until he was far from the Colosseum.
Che vergogna.
nessun problema - no problem
como ti chiami, tesorina? - What's your name, little treasure? (the last part sounds really creepy but it's a literal translation of a very sweet term of endearment usually said to a girl you might like)
mi chiamo Monique - My name is Monique
qual...qual è il tu-tuo numero di telefono? - What's your number?
non preoccuparti. Penso che ci vedremo presto - Don't worry. I think we'll see each other soon
grazie - thank you
che vergogna - what a shame
please tell me if i got any italian wrong! c':
and uh yeAH this is the prologue to my new AU! i've had this planned out in my head for quite a while so let's see how this goes
the girl was monaco. antonio shows up later, don't worry.
thank you so much for reading, and please feel free to leave feedback or commentary! they're much appreciated, and i really want to know what you guys think of this AU. :v