So in my story, Derek is the one who is in deep denial. Just remember as you are reading this update that he's supposed to be getting married at the end of the week. Right? Ha ha.
Meredith is snug and warm. The cool clean scent of fresh linen and some indescribable earthen scent mixes beneath her nose as she is bumped along somehow. Her head leaden and comfortable against a very solid surface that is somehow warm and cushiony at the same time. She snuggles closer, only to be shhh'd by a low masculine voice that is a lot closer than she expected.
She tries to open her eyes, but gives that up when she is deposited onto an even more comfortable surface. She is suddenly reminded of a summer's breeze. She rolls over onto her side and pulls a cloud underneath her, to be rewarded with a warm chuckle somewhere close by. She vaguely feels the weight of her shoes removed, a light blanket pulled around her, a quick peck on her forehead, and then she is alone.
Meredith awakens in a cocoon of warm blankets and soft feathery pillows. She gingerly stretches her sore muscles and raises her arms above in the age-old sign of a night well slept. She stops in mid-stretch though when she realizes she has no idea where she is. Oh, crap. She looks down into a darkened room to see herself lying on what looks like a queen sized bed. She slowly raises the blankets and is relieved to find that she is completely clothed. Thank God.
She reaches over and turns on the lamp resting on the side table next to the bed and is surprised to discover herself in a very elegant but understated hotel room. The palest of yellow paint adorns very high walls that end, of all things, with a fresco in the middle of the ceiling. The room isn't very big. The bed itself takes up most of her side of the room with only room enough for the two side tables on either side of the bed and some room to walk around. The room is very elongated though, with the entrance to the room directly across from her, the bathroom on the left and a dresser and closet door on the right.
It's still dark out, but she can see how the almost floor to ceiling window behind her could make this a very inviting space. She can't see outside though because giant slatted wooden screens lay closed across the giant window. The room is very warm with gold accents on all the lamps and aged furniture giving it a slight genteel air. This is all pulled together by the gold, yellow, and crème paisley comforter wrapped around her at this very moment.
A folded over piece of paper resting on the side table closest to her catches her attention. It has "Meredith" written along the front in a very long cursive male hand. Derek. She tentatively takes the note in her hand and with a calm steadying breath, begins to read:
Meredith,
So far, so good.
Don't freak out.
Okay, doesn't he realize that by telling her not to freak out that that is just going to make her freak out even more? Alright, get a grip on yourself.
You are in the Hotel Contilia in Trastevere.
Alright, now what about the most important part.
Yes, this was formerly my room, but don't worry. Nothing untoward happened..
Thank God.
You fell asleep at the cafe, and I didn't have the heart to wake you. (Actually, that is a lie. I did try to wake you, but all you did was keep telling me that "we didn't have to do the thing" and you kept on sleeping. You must tell me what this thing is.)
"Oh God." She finally says out loud, putting her head in one hand as she continues to read the rest of the letter.
Richard says there are about ten million hotels called Villa de Roma, and honestly no matter how cute you are sleeping in my arms, I didn't feel like carting you around until I found the right one. So I did the next best thing.
He thought I was cute?
I've moved over to Richard's for the time being. Please stay as long as you like. The owners are good friends of mine and will take good care of you. One of them even had some extra clothes she thought might fit you.
Okay, she was totally humiliated now. Not only had she been carried practically unconscious by a very sexy strange man, but apparently other people had seen her. She does look over to see a very pretty floral-patterned dress hanging on the closet door with dainty sandals resting below. Not very her, but doable.
Seeing the shoes makes her realize that she is not wearing hers. The bare softness of her feet on the sheets reminds her of him chuckling softly as he took them off. And suddenly she is reminded of all of the other sensations: being held in his arms, feeling his warm breath against her face, the lightness of his kiss against her forehead. Had all that really happened? Well, she was obviously here in his hotel room, so some of it must be true. She feels a little over-warm at that thought. Time to finish the letter.
I had a wonderful time getting to meet you yesterday (even the sleeping parts). I hope you have a wonderful time visiting my homeland, and I wish you all the best.
Regards,
Derek
P.S. If you ever need to get a hold of me, just let Isabella and George (the proprietors) know. They know where to find me. Arrivederci la mia bellezza di sonno!
Hmm. Not what she was expecting. She was definitely going to have to translate that last part though. Well, she didn't know what she had been expecting, but this wasn't this. He had been a perfect gentleman. Somehow she was kind of disappointed.
Derek had made a deal with himself. He knew from Isabella that Meredith was planning on visiting the Old City today: the forum, the coliseum, the palatino, etc. No, he had not asked! He had been minding his own business, having his morning coffee in Isabella's kitchen, when she had just offered the information to him! She had been chattering away, preparing breakfast for the other hotel's patrons, when she had remarked jovially to him that his friend was just the sweetest thing ever. That's not what he remembered (well, maybe only in sleep), but it gave him an opening to ask her about Meredith without making her suspicious.
It seems Meredith had been down wandering around the hotel main floors literally before the sun had come up. Jet lag was hell, that was for sure. She HAD fallen asleep at noon. She must have been really tired to even have slept as long as she did. Isabella had herself just come down in her bathrobe to pour herself her first cup of coffee when she had stumbled on Meredith trying to find some too. They had apparently had a nice little chat where Meredith had thanked Isabella profusely for the dress (Isabella had gone along nicely with that charade. He somehow knew that Meredith wouldn't have accepted it if it had come from him.).
Meredith had even told Isabella a little about herself. Derek pouted a little bit at that thought. He did understand, he did, but it still hurt a little bit that she hadn't confided even that small amount of information to him. He guessed he wouldn't tell a complete stranger anything personal about himself either, but still. So apparently she was on some kind of graduation present to herself. Why wasn't some fellow classmate or friend with her? And that still didn't explain the lack of clothes.
As he had sipped his coffee, Isabella had told him all about their conversation. How she had recommended the Old City as the first place to start on any proper Roman holiday. How she had told her of a reasonably priced clothing store nearby that sold serviceable clothes and shoes. No use spending a fortune on marked up crap that only tourists bought, Isabella always said. He hadn't had to do anything. He had just sat there sipping his coffee and all of this information had just come unbidden. It had!
He had sat and chatted for a while longer until George had come in to start setting up the breakfast buffet. He had told himself last night that he had only brought Meredith back to his hotel because he didn't know what else to do. That was kind of a lie. He would admit it! He knew that if she was here, she hadn't disappeared into the teaming masses of Rome. He had no plan of bothering her again, or even letting her know that he was there, he just couldn't simply drop her off somewhere and completely let her go forever.
He was scared to think about what that meant. As she had snuggled in his arms yesterday, he had realized that he was a little more into her than he should be. He had wanted so badly to ask her in that letter if she would spend the week touring the sites with him, but he realized that the fact that he wanted it that badly then it probably wouldn't be a good idea. He had to remind himself, as he had stood staring at her sleeping form from the doorway, the light from the hallway illuminating her fragile little body, that he was getting married on Sunday.
He had gone back to Richard's/his room and reinforced to himself that he should never talk to her again. Somehow in the middle of the night though, he had come to the conclusion that even if he couldn't do anything about the little fluttery feelings flapping around in his chest, he still wanted to get to know her. She seemed like a very interesting person, and he wasn't going to let the opportunity go by to make a new friend just because they were of a certain gender. They were both traveling alone and it would be nice to have someone to travel the sites with. Dining alone was never fun. And they were both staying in the same hotel now (even though she didn't know that). So it would be convenient.
But he had still decided to leave it up to fate. He knew she was probably kind of freaked out by the whole experience, so if he showed up at her doorstep he could already hear a resounding no coming from her lips. Or a politely worded refusal. Gawd, now that would be the worst. But if he just happened to run into her while out sightseeing, that was a different story. Hell, he didn't even know if he could find her in this teaming mess of humanity. He figured she would want to take an English-language tour, and Isabella had recommended it to her, so he was parked on the stairs leading down from the Via dei Fori Imperiali, down wind from the ticket booth. He stands facing away, overlooking the Forum, pretending to peruse his guidebook, as he prays for fate to be in a kind and giving mood this bright and cloudless morning.
He waits for what seems like forever, watching as person after person comes traipsing down the stairs. He doesn't want to seem too obvious, so he stays turned away, keeping an eye out through a little tilt of his head. He couldn't say how many times he saw a little dainty sandal-clad foot and shapely calf, only to turn and be disappointed. Stay calm, Derek, stay calm. Do you want her to know you're looking for her? Face forward, stare at the book.
He almost really thought she was not coming. She could have decided to go somewhere else after all. She could have come in through a different entrance. She could have come down before he got here or…or about a million other things. The tour group starts to gather down below in front of the Arco di Settimio Severo (or Arch of Septimius Severus), and she still hasn't shown. The sun had definitely moved a good degree higher in the sky as he stood there.
He had even given up pretending to read his guide-book, stuffed it in his back pocket, and was about to step off for his own lonely private tour, when fate decided to bless him unbelievably. He hadn't been lounging around all pathetic-like. He hadn't given up and left yet. He had literally been turning around to leave and... smacked right into her.
"Umph." Meredith lets out as she suddenly smacks into a very solid male object. She starts to totter on the steps, throwing her arms out to steady herself with anything she can grab onto. Which just happens to be the very strong object that is standing before her.
She feels some very strong arms reach around to steady her and looks up to profusely apologize for her apparent clumsiness. Only to be met with some very familiar blue eyes. Blue eyes she had never thought to see again. Blue eyes that were staring down at her in flagrant amusement and something else she wasn't quite able to identify. They stand frozen in time, them holding on each other long past any need to do so. She stares back, not able to break the sudden contact. Then something changes in his face, and he reluctantly lets her go.
"I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going." He apologizes as he incrementally takes a step back.
"Apparently I wasn't either." She responds kindly, smiling to let him know that there were no hard feelings.
They both kind of smile at each other, not knowing what to say.
"Thank you for, you know…yesterday." Meredith gets out finally, knowing a fiery red blush is probably making its way across her features.
"Yes…well…it's not every day that a donna bella falls asleep mid-espresso." He teases.
"Well, you didn't have to give up your hotel room for me." She continues, feeling the need to let him know how much it meant to her that he had done that.
"Um…well…honestly I really didn't know what else to do." He stammers as he brushes off the praise.
"Well thank you anyway." She says as she smiles up at him gratefully. But then a sudden thought comes bubbling up unbidden and she has to stifle a giggle.
"What?" He asks, looking slightly confused but intrigued.
"Nothing." She gets out, but starts laughing even harder.
"Oh, it is so not nothing." He says as he crosses his arms and waits for her to tell him.
"No, no…it's just that….well." She stutters a bit as the second blush in as many minutes makes an appearance on her face.
He only keeps his arms crossed and waits, so she confesses, "Usually when I wake up in a boy's bed, he hasn't bolted to another hotel."
Whatever he thought she was going to say, that was certainly not it, she decides when his eyebrows shoot up in his face. But then his features take on an almost evil gleam, as he asks, "Did you want to wake up next to me?"
Meredith feels the nipples in her chest tighten up at his low-pitched question, but she keeps her features evenly schooled. She slowly raises one challenging eyebrow, the left, and remarks, "I'm not telling." After which she flips around and starts walking down the steps.
"Oh, you are so telling." He says behind her, as he follows her down the stairs.
"Nope." She tosses behind her, working her way past other people making their way in the opposite direction.
She feels him make his way to her side and he says, "I could tickle it out of you."
"Not ticklish." She counters, knowing she is horrendously ticklish, but she's not going to tell him that.
"I could….bribe it out of you." He says after a few seconds of thought.
"Oh? What are you offering?" She asks with a little flirtatious tilt to her head as they pass their way down the last few steps and into the area directly before the Arco di Settimio Severo. This is where the rest of the tour group is gathering and where she had originally been heading before she had smacked into him.
"I would say the pleasure of my company, but you'd probably get mad at me." He offers with a little chuckle to himself.
"Probably." She answers non-committaly, that actually that being what she does want, but she's not going to say it out loud.
"Espresso seems to only put you to sleep, so I can't do that." He teases boyishly as he rubs his chin in fake thought.
"It was the jet lag!" She counters defensively, still a might embarrassed by the entire incident.
"No, no more espresso for you. I'm still a little sore from carrying you." He half-teases as he pretends to rub a sore spot in his back.
"Oh, you know you liked it." She teases back as they come upon the tour group. The tour guide doesn't seem to be there yet though, so they go stand in the shade underneath the Arco.
"Oh, I didn't say I didn't like it. I just prefer my lunch companions awake and not snoring." He says as he leans himself against the arch and waits for her response.
"I do not snore!" She counters defensively, standing before him with a definite glare on her face.
He doesn't look upset though. He just leans back, crosses his arms, and remarks "Well, I was the awake one and you were the sleeping one, so I should know."
She narrows her eyes in anger, but only "harrumphs" as she joins him against the arch. She turns her head to glare at him, but is met with only rampant amusement. Grudgingly, she lets it go and says, "You still haven't offered me a decent bribe."
"Well, actually I have a confession to make." She hears him remark in a different tone of voice.
She looks over to see him looking a little chagrined, so asks, "Confession?"
"I knew you were going to be here today. Isabella told me."
She raises an eyebrow that silently tells him to continue.
"We are both traveling alone." He starts, letting the alone part linger in the air for a while, before he offers, "I thought it might be nice for us to visit the sites together."
"And how is that a bribe?" She asks suspiciously, a little wary now that she knows this wasn't just some accidental meeting.
"I offer you my services as a semi-native Italian. I didn't grow up here, but I like to think that I know the area pretty well. I could probably give you a better tour than these second-rate college student tour guides." He says as the afore-mentioned guide finally shows up and starts talking to the group.
"But what do you get out of this?" She asks with narrowed eyes, trying to piece out his motivations.
"Why, the pleasure of your company." He remarks, breaking out his most charming smile.
She thinks about this for a second and decides what the hell. It would be nice to have someone to see the sites with, solitary touring not being her most favorite thing to do. Why not?
"Alright, but only on two conditions." She agrees reluctantly.
His only response is to raise his eyebrows in silent question.
"One: you have to take your room back. Isabella says she has another one opening up tonight, and I feel bad about you having to sleep in Richard's room." She lays out, Isabella having let that little slip of information out this morning.
"Isabella told you about that?" Derek responds with an endearingly boyish grin.
"Yes, and two: you have to let me take you out to dinner tonight. As a way to say thank you, I mean."