Their memories came back in waves--Waves so strong that Lucas and Peyton would grip the arm rests of their seats, jaws clenched. It was like scrambled pieces of a large puzzles. So many missing pieces, so many didn't fit…
The plane ride passed without incident. Other than the minor turbulence that made Peyton edge-y, it was a smooth ride.
They touched down in the Rome Fiumicino Airport just as the sun was rising over the Italian horizon. Lucas and Peyton stared out of the window at the breathtaking view of the city awash in a golden glow.
After hailing a cab, they rode in silence to The Westin Excelsior, a posh Rome hotel.
Peyton set her bags down as Lucas talked to the (luckily) English speaking bellhop. She stared up the hotel, a magnificent stone structure…
"It's like a palace," she breathed. She marveled at its magnificence.
Lucas took her hand, snapping her out of her stupor.
"C'mon," he said quietly.
They walked up the red, carpeted stairs into the hotel. After checking w/ the reservations that Luca had so aptly booked, they made their way to the top floor, in the Villa La Cupola Suite..
The suite was, in a word, breathtaking. It covered the 5th and 6th floors. Its taupe walls and cool marble floors were beyond inviting. The center of the suite, the copula, was befitted with a baroque inspired dome, covered intricately with frescoes.
Peyton walked, her hand over her mouth. She wandered into the Jacuzzi Room. A marble Jacuzzi sat in the center of a fantastic room of rich iron back chairs, Venetian pillows tossed purposely around the room, and a starry portrait over head. Through the wall length windows, she looked at the terrace. She walked outside, the view was wonderful. All of Rome lay before her eyes, the sun shining down on this perfect moment…
She walked back inside, hand still over mouth. She walked past Lucas, with her wide-eyed wonderment. He sat back and watched her, amused. She went into the master bedroom.
The bed was the lightest shade of papaya with a curved cushioned headboard. Behind the headboard was red, rutched veil-like fabric with small lamps on either side. The entire bed was laid in four cheery wood posters with a high, red canopy tasseled in gold thread. Peyton fell on the bed, clutching a decorative pillow to her chest. She sighed.
"You…KNOW we can't afford this, right?"
Lucas stood over her--His shadow blocking the soft light of lamp on a small vanity table.
"10,000 Euro a night," he shrugged. "I don't ask questions. It's booked. It's paid for. Whatever."
"Ahh…"
"We have a private elevator."
"Really? Awesome, show me."
He led her towards the end of the suite towards some sliding doors, painted the color and design of the walls. After pushing the button, they stepped inside. The walls were carpeted with a rich, thick fabric. A small, plush ottoman sat in the corner with a telephone, of all things, beside it on a mini shelf.
Peyton twirled around and bit her lip happily.
"Don't forget why we're here." Lucas said coolly.
Peyton's mood shifted suddenly and she nodded. She moved forward a set, her hand on his face…her mouth devoured his.
Every kiss still felt so unexpected, so thrilling. Physical joy felt as if it was coursing through Lucas's veins.
Flashes. Flashes. Hands clasped….lips upon lips…blood on hands…screaming….screaming…
Lucas and Peyton broke apart suddenly. Lucas looked down at his hands then back at Peyton.
Peyton's hand went to her abdomen and she looked back at Lucas…
Neither said a word…but they both knew it…
The Old Peyton was murdered.