"You look like an 18th-century dandy, Helena."
"Look like? I am. What, you don't like the stockings?"
"Oh, I do. Your legs are lovely."
Helena lifts her mask to come over and kiss my cheek. "You flatter me." She straightens out the vest and jacket she's wearing, adjusting her mask to perfectly hide her face. "Did you have to go dressed as that?"
"My plague doctor costume is more than appropriate after the hell we've gone through last year. And...it also happily reminds reminds me why I dropped out of the pre-med program." Helena laughs at tucks a wallet inside of her jacket.
I never had the chance to go to Venice during Carnevale, never thought I would be here for it or be here in costume. Helena has been to Venice (she says little of the layout has changed) and also never been to anything like Carnevale as it wasn't going on in Venice back in her day. She seems a bit dismayed that the entire city has been overrun by foreign tourists and every piece of property has some form of greeting or instruction in at least six languages.
"You know, we go on holiday when we get home." Helena whispers in my ear. I smile. It'll be our first real vacation, not just something thrown into one of our artifact recoveries. Even though we're enjoying our couple of days in Venice, it's still not as if we're truly here on our own accord. We have been fortunate enough to have a day here and there, but nothing significant. Artie and Mrs Frederic have been more than accommodating considering all that's happened.
We walk up and down small bridges traversing canals, around winding streets with stone walkways, alleys with sharply-angled turns, one after the other. Helena does remarkably well for someone who doesn't need a map to navigate the city, but it's not as though Venice is the sort of place that is easy to follow on a map in the first place.
Upon reaching our destination, we arrive at a cafe overlooking a piazza. The ground is still a bit wet from the morning's rain. There might be some seriously bundled up tourists sitting outside (perhaps they think it warm?) at the tables, but we aren't that adventuresome when we have the option of the great indoors. Helena and I walk to the back of the cafe to take a seat against plush cushions, sitting side-by-side to assist in staying warm.
Whenever we go out at a coffee shop or cafe or restaurant, we prefer to sit next to each other rather than on opposite sides. I get to slip my hand in her pocket and hold it there; she places her hand on my thigh and occasionally trails one fingernail up and down the sides when no one is looking. She loves lightly teasing me in front of others, especially when they have no idea what she is up to under the table or inside my jacket. We remove our masks and comfortably sit pressed against each other in a corner, barely able to see all of the costumed people and tourists outside.
Eventually a waiter comes over and asks what we'd like: I order a Bellini for myself, a hot chocolate with cream for Helena and some scones and sandwiches. She raises a single eyebrow at me.
"You don't sound that awkward when speaking Italian." Sometimes, she's too kind. "How did you know I wanted hot chocolate?"
"I had a hunch." I reply with a wrinkle of my nose.
"Alcohol for you so early in the day?"
I quickly glance at my watch underneath my black robe. "It's practically noon. Besides, it can be one of those breakfast-y alcohol beverages."
"Please let me have at least one sip when it arrives."
Once our items arrive, I quickly chug down my drink, forgetting to even give Helena the tiniest sip. Sometimes, whenever I have something important that I need to ask her, I get a bit nervous. The dose of liquid courage is what I need to ask Helena the following that I simply blurt out.
"What-kinda-ring-d'you-want?"
"Pardon?"
"Ring. Wedding ring. You gave me a ring. I don't have a ring for you."
Helena smiles and pulls my flushed face closer to hers. "I don't need a ring, Myka."
"You say that, but I want to get you one."
She's quiet. Too quiet. Fiddling with her locket underneath the lace collar she is wearing. "Alright." She catches the waiter's attention and orders a couple more drinks. Refocusing her attention on me, she says, "Find something that matches the one I gave you."
I feel better now. Huddled together in the corner, Helena in her velvet suit and me in my black robe, we softly whisper to each other our vacation plans for the upcoming week and goals we want to accomplish this year. We watch patrons come and go as we enjoy our drinks and snacks from the giant caddy filled with scones and sandwiches. Helena loves how this reminds her of teatime and I have to promise her that we will start doing this back home.
"Come on, let's go scare some tourists with your mask."