Reborn hummed to himself as he walked along the cobblestone street of the small Venetian suburb. He promised himself that, after the disaster of the last date, today would go exactly as he had planned. He had swapped out his dress shirt for a more dashing shade of yellow and his cufflinks were an eye-catching gold. His shoes were freshly polished, his sideburns were curled, and his watch was set backwards for exactly seven minutes.
The weather was perfect. Lightly cloudy through the afternoon with a heavy rain post 8 o'clock, and a group of assassins were on his tail.
There weren't many people around, most busily at work or running errands in the square. A man with a rather worn briefcase walked a respectable distance behind Reborn, reading a book on economic theory and the stock market.
The hitman turned a corner and smiled as he came upon the now-familiar street where his lovely interest dwelled. He had taken the time to learn everyone who lived here, from the Maddalena family to the two single fathers sharing rent and five total children.
He was still getting through all the regular visitors; the recurring comings and goings of the place. But he knew enough, he felt, to at least be well into laying the foundations to his goal with the woman Silvestro.
"I'm sorry, could you come back another time?" Reborn asked the man using the book in his hand to hide the small poisoned knife he planned to use. "I've got a date that I just cannot miss."
Several men stepped out from around the place, behind buildings, from within cars. They pressed their hands to their pockets, some disappearing into their jackets. Reborn tilted his head minutely. They were in a populated suburb full of civilian families. Whoever had sent them didn't care who got caught up in the hit - or wasn't smart enough to realise the Vindice would come knocking at the slightest wisp of Flame.
Reborn had his silencer on him, he could deal with this quickly. It was the clean-up that would be the hard part; he couldn't leave ten bodies on his bella's doorstep!
"Sorry, bastard, no re-scheduling," the first man scowled and stepped forward.
"Come now, surely we could book an appointment," Reborn suggested coyly, raising his hands up to show he wasn't in the mood.
Everyone shifted, the soft click of safety unlatched from guns. Reborn took a breath, tasting the air and the rise of Flames-
"Hey!"
Everyone stopped.
"What's going on here?" Silvestro Russ bellowed with the voice befitting a drill sergeant.
Boots hit the path with enough force to send loose pebbles skittering and her shoulders were set in a stern line as she stormed from her apartment building. Her brow was pinched in a glare, brown eyes sharp and harsh as they surveyed each face in the crowd, holding them in her memory.
Even if she failed to recall the details, however, Reborn was sure at least one of the several faces pressed to apartment windows would be able to fill in the gaps.
The strange stringbean of a man was surrounded on all sides by less-than-savoury looking folk and Silvestro didn't need to be a genius to guess they weren't palming pocket bibles with their hidden hands. She saw 'Renato's hands up, a classic sign of placation and surrender, and felt her stomach burn with anger and annoyance. What the hell were they doing to him?
"Bella!" 'Renato' smiled, turning to her as she continued to stomp her way closer.
Reborn blinked as the woman continued up to him and an arm wrapped heavy around his shoulders, tugging him into her side. Standing tucked into Silvestro, Reborn glanced at the men around him and saw their hesitation. They didn't know how to handle this new element. A companion of Reborn, and an irregular Flame. Dangerous on anyone's radar.
"What the hell is going on here?" Silvestro asked again, a gravelly tone to her voice and Reborn felt the muscles in her body shift as she straightened up, easily matching the tallest man in the crowd. "Do you have a problem with my friend here?"
As she said this, her hand tightened on his shoulder and drew him closer until Reborn could smell the Flame coming off her pyre. He could identify the wispy, clean Cloud, and the ozone of Lightning but the last - it smelt almost earthy; rich.
Reborn tilted his head to cover his smile. He always loved the taste of rich food.
"Bella! I'm so glad you came," 'Renato' gasped and leant heavily against the mountainous woman's side and mentally ticked a box. Protective, territorial: Classic Cloud attributes. "I'm not sure if I insulted these men somehow but-"
"Hey, calm down," Silvestro soothed and Reborn had to control the fine muscles in his face when he heard the soft, near growl in her voice. "You can explain later, first-" she straightened and stared the apparent leader dead in the eye. "You lot are going to leave. Now."
Reborn felt a surge of sadistic pride to rival a peacock as the men eyed each other carefully, glancing between Reborn and the gladiator of a woman at his side. They didn't know how to handle this; they were wary. He tilted his head and let the shadow slip from his face, showing the smug grin adorning his lips.
If there was one thing Reborn loved to do, it was baffle. The other was showing off. And he got to do both here, both with his lovely, latest target.
"Bastard," one of the men growled
Silvestro squared her shoulders and shifted until the stringbean of a man was nudged behind her, steady, strong anger rumbling under her skin. Her entire presence dared them to try.
"...We'll meet up another day," the man with the book said finally, keeping both Sun and variant in his sights. "Sorry to bother."
Silvestro nodded at him firmly but didn't budge an inch until all of the group had dispersed. She gripped 'Renato' by the shoulder and all but marched him back to her apartment, keeping him in front the whole time.
"Do I want to know what that was?" Silvestro asked after locking her door behind them.
"Merely some business associates, bella," 'Renato' assured, watching the woman as she frowned down at him. "Though, they seemed rather upset. I may have ensured a conflicting deal for them. It happens sometimes, not everyone is happy with me, you understand. Business can get a bit rough when not everyone profits."
As he said this, 'Renato' hunched his shoulders just a touch, making him look sheepish. The lady Silvestro was already protective, bordering on nurturing, and Reborn intended to ride that high; endearment was a useful tool.
It worked like a charm. Silvestro gave him a long, scrutinising look before she let out a suffered sigh. She didn't trust him, but he didn't need her complete trust for this. Just enough.
Reborn was already well on his way. He was in her home, and he was going to handle her meal personally. A Cloud letting someone meddle with their Territory was always a large step, even if they weren't aware of it.
"So, bella, shall we go to the market and get some ingredients together?"
"I don't know if I should trust you in public after that," Silvestro uttered, putting her hand on her hip as she all but stood over Reborn who didn't mind tilting his head back. It was always a bit nice to have to look up at his women.
"Miss Russ, you wound me! I am nothing if not a gentleman! Sure, I may ruffle a few feathers here and there, but what man worth his salt doesn't?" 'Renato' gasped, placing a hand over his heart.
Silvestro raised an eyebrow down at him.
'Renato' fixed his posture and tilted his lips into a disarming smile, "I doubt anything bad will happen tonight, bella. "
The woman stood there for a moment longer,
'Renato' tucked his chin in and shifted his weight, making himself comically cute. He waited a little bit.
Silvestro rolled her eyes and grumbled, "Let me grab my stuff."
The strange string bean of a man in her home smiled in obvious, pleased victory. She wondered if this was going to become a regular occurrence; the chaos.
With wallet and keys shoved into her pockets, Silvestro grabbed her tweed coat and met 'Renato' at her door. She glanced around for Ruggine, before quickly nudging 'Renato' out the door before Ruggine could appear and make a break for it.
"So," Silvestro began as she locked the door against the scratching of Ruggine the cat. "What have you got planned?"
'Renato' smiled and guided his company out into the path.
"Are we taking your car again?" Silvestro asked, looking at the sparse dotting of cars around her street.
"No, I thought this time we'd like to walk together. Give ourselves some more time to talk?"
Silvestro blinked before smiling a bit and said, "Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds good."
Promptly after that, Silvetro and 'Renato' walked in silence for a solid three minutes. Well, this wasn't working, Silvestro scratched her nape and grumbled a bit to herself.
"So, what have you been up to?" She finally grunted out, stomping down on what Amelia called 'Date Nerves'. "I haven't seen you around for a while."
"Oh, this and that," 'Renato' half-answered, "Some…colleagues wanted to catch up."
"That's nice," She uttered, resigned. What had she expected, an actual answer? "So you're close with your…colleagues?"
"Not particularly, but we're a-" he tilted his head and carefully strung his words together, "Small group. So we're well acquainted."
Silvestro glanced down at 'Renato' at her side, watching the way his arms were happily clasped behind his back. Her training said it wasn't recommended posture, that handling weapons would be hard from that position - but something quiet in the back of her mind, be it instinct or whatever, said that someone like 'Renato' might not have that issue.
Then Silvestro pinched herself through her pants. It had been nearly a year since her discharge but she was still stuck in habits, sizing up everyone she crossed. Silvestro exhaled through her nose, she needed to calm down.
"And what of you, bella?" 'Renato' asked, smiling up at the woman. "Made any acquaintances of your own?"
"Uh," Silvestro paused to think, the green-tinged vision of a very dishevelled Verde appearing in her mind, and then the purple splattered 'zest for life' that was Skull. "Yeah, actually. I've met some people. They're interesting, to say the least."
"Surely not as interesting as me?" 'Renato' nearly pouted and Silvestro couldn't help the small scoff of laughter.
"You're definitely your own breed," she admitted and 'Renato' beamed like he had been praised. "But they keep me busy - almost missed you being gone at all."
"Bella!" 'Renato' gasped, full of fake hurt. "How could you? You replace me, while I spend nights gazing upon the moon hoping that, even so far away, we share a moment together."
"Sure you did,"
"And now you doubt me!"
"Only a reasonable amount," Silvestro snickered, watching the man's face look playfully aghast. "So, what're you gonna feed me?"
'Renato' pulled himself out of his pout and smiled politely, his entire presence becoming amiable as he tilted his chin up and said, "I was thinking a lovely steak dish would work for tonight's dinner. Some nice wine, a sweet dessert. How does that sound, my bella?"
"Sounds good," Silvestro hummed, thinking she hadn't had steak in a while. "Do you know everything you'll need? We can go to Orelio's grocer."
"Indeed we could, however, I have a specific place in mind for what we'll be purchasing this evening. Don't worry, bella, I've planned everything!"
The woman blinked quietly before glancing down to the man by her side, "Please understand that doesn't assure me in any way."
'Renato' tilted his head, the brim of his hat obscuring his eyes, and smiled wide. Silvestro let out a long sigh and followed the lanky little man as he all but sauntered into the bustle of the shopping square.
0 0 0
It was going well. Too well.
Silvestro should have known something was up.
And yet here she stood, somehow still surprised that there was a whole new shopping strip in their little section of town. They boasted artisan bread, gourmet cheese and vintage wines in their shop fronts; folk in clean-pressed uniforms dotted the registers.
Housewives dressed in diamonds and pearls walked with helpers at their sides, personal shoppers drifted around with lists in hand and celebrity chefs, badly disguised behind sunglasses, squeezed melons in the corner. All of them stilled once 'Renato' stepped through the threshold.
Silvestro pinched the bridge of her nose and pointedly ignored the price tags of the Norwegian Bergsdalen carrots next to her. 'Renato' had pranced off ahead, finally breaking off from her side to investigate hopshoot asparagus and sundried tomatoes, completely at ease with how the celebrity chef gawked at him from behind Yubari King melons.
"This is your doing, isn't it?" Silvestro asked, gazing at the man who weighed up some walnuts. "I don't know how. But you've done something.'
"Your faith humbles me," 'Renato' smiled, playful and smug.
Silvestro blinked and then pointedly looked away. There he went being cute again.
"Oh bella, could you grab four Nikkori pears for me? They're just behind you."
The woman jumped to attention and turned to the selection of pears laid out for them. She missed the way 'Renato's playful smile slipped into a slow smirk of victory.
"I need pears, raisins, oranges and lemons," she heard 'Renato' list off to himself as she came to drop the honey-yellow pears into his basket. "While we're here, are you feeling like any particular fruits to peck at?"
Silvestro tilted her head and answered a quick, "Grapes would be okay."
She had seen red grapes at Orelio's earlier today but hadn't had the time or the mind to grab them.
"Grapes it is then," 'Renato' hummed and the two walked deeper into the store to sort through a selection of grape varieties from Caberlot to Ruby Roman.
'Renato' chose a hefty bunch of both. Because of course he did.
"Here, try this," he urged and plucked one of the ruby-red grapes off its bunch.
"We haven't paid for them yet," Silvestro frowned, aware of the eyes burning into them from every corner of the store.
"Don't worry, we'll be paying shortly," 'Renato' assured. "Come on, just one!"
The woman shifted her weight in discomfort, 'Renato' continued to stare up at her expectantly. Shoulders slumped in defeat, Silvestro reached over to take the grape from him.
'Renato' took it out of her reach, and then held it closer to her mouth, smiling persuadingly up at her.
Silvestro hesitated, remembering the eyes, remembering the price tag. She looked to 'Renato', wondering what he was trying to pull.
'Rentao' tilted his head, body language clear in a 'please?'.
Be brave, just do it, just do it, bite the bullet-
Silvestro bit 'Renato's hand.
The store was quiet.
Silvestro pulled back, grape in mouth.
"I'll be outside," she said and all but ran out of the store.
The mountainous woman's boots hit the cobblestone outside and kept going, feet marching to work out the intense anxiety that buzzed in her chest. Her footfalls boomed in her ears and people ducked out of her way as she fled.
She had bit her date! 'Renato'! How the hell was she going to recover from that?! She could just hear Amelia chiding her already, as scolding as she was supportive with 'if there's a will there's a way!' but damn it, she bet Amelia never bit her date in public.
Silvestro came to a stop further down the street than she intended to, well away from the store she had run out of. Her shoulder ached under her jacket, and she could feel an embarrassed heat creeping up her nape.
An arm wound through the crook of her own with startling ease and without missing a beat 'Renato' fell into step beside Silvestro. Silvestro jumped at his sudden appearance and stared at the man who smiled up at her in greeting.
"This is the second time you ran out on me, bella," 'Renato' chimed, their arms securely looped together. "At this rate, I fear I may not find you one day."
Silvestro flushed both a weird mixture of shame and shyness before she managed to grumble out, "I think you'd have a hard time losing me in a crowd."
"True, you do have a certain…Presence to you. And I do so love to chase."
"Sure you do," she deadpanned near entirely by habit, before wincing when she saw the hand hooked into her arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to, you know, bite you."
"Oh, this?" 'Renato' asked, flexing his fingers that were patterned with the shallow indents of teeth. 'Renato' glanced up at the woman by his side and held her stare as he lightly kissed the bite marks. "I don't mind a bit of teeth, my bella."
Silvestro's eyes widened and her face went a deep red.
"I, uh-" she stumbled, voice catching in her throat as 'Renato' smiled up at her from behind his finger. Silvestro wheezed and then plucked herself free, charging forward with ground-shaking stomps. "Okay, enough of that! Next store, what do you need?"
'Renato' grinned when he saw the back of the woman's nape burning as red as her cheeks. He took a long moment to feel his finger against his lips - then took five large strides forward and rejoined his lady Silvestro at her side. Her face was still flushed as Silvestro shifted her arm, wordlessly offering the crook of her elbow to 'Renato' again.
The lanky man blinked. He tilted his head and shadowed his eyes with his yellow strapped fedora, before laying his hand in the offered elbow.
"Well, we've ticked off a fair bit already. Shall we visit the butcher's next?"
"Sure," Silvestro grunted, still avoiding his eyes.
"Excellent," 'Renato' smiled, this time not hiding the sharp edge of victory.
0 0 0
Silvestro still felt that hand in her elbow when they returned to her apartment. Her left side somehow felt warmer compared to the other, 'Renato's presence leaving behind some kind of radiated heat.
"I hope it's not radioactive," Silvestro muttered to herself as she peered at her coat.
"What was that?" 'Renato' asked from her kitchen, unpacking their grocery haul.
"Huh? Oh, nothing."
'Renato' pouted at her in suspicion before going back to
Silvestro turned around-
"Jesus Christ, what are you wearing?" She wheezed, staring down at the lanky man dressed in the crisp white of professional chef apparel.
"I have no idea what you are talking about," 'Renato', or whoever he was cosplaying today, chimed. "For I am Francesco, the World's Greatest Chef!"
Silvestro snorted into her hand as she watched 'Francesco' righten his hat, looking very proud and horrendously out of place in her cramped little apartment kitchen.
"So will you be 'Francesco' from now?" Silvestro asked after she calmed down.
"You can call me anything you like," 'Francesco' winked and Silvestro rolled her eyes to the ceiling in exasperation.
"That's not an answer, stringbean," she sighed and went about pouring water for the two of them.
"I am Francesco, the world's greatest chef, unrivalled in the culinary arts!" He insisted.
"Okay, okay," Silvestro accepted, handing the man his cup. "So, 'Francesco', do you want me to help you out, or are you like Amelia and are going to kick me out of my own kitchen?"
'Francesco' huffed kindly, "A master needs room to create his art! And tonight, I'm making art for you."
As he said this, 'Francesco' herded Silvestro out of her nook of a kitchen.
"I'm going, I'm going," Silvestro assured and crossed the threshold where linoleum met floorboards. She grabbed out a chair from her little dining table and spun it around. She plonked herself down on the chair and sat back, leaning her cheek on her hand.
"Will you be watching me, bella?" 'Francesco' asked, cupping his face and making himself look all aflutter.
"Well, you went on about 'art' and all that, and I like seeing the person I'm talking to," she shrugged.
'Francesco' hummed and then pranced off back into the kitchen, spinning with a flourish.
Silvestro watched as 'Francesco', quick as a snap, went about preparing some sort of pastry batter in a bowl. He shaved the zest off Dekopon oranges and gloriously bright lemons and incorporated it into the dough.
Silvestro took a breath; her little kitchen smelt like sugar and citrus. A part of her wished she could ask Amelia to make that scent with one of her candles.
"We'll leave that to rise for about an hour," 'Francesco' told her as he put the bowl aside. "And in the meantime, we'll get started on the Tagliata."
"Sounds good, I haven't had steak in a while."
'Francesco' produced a grill pan from somewhere out of sight and set it on her stove, letting it heat as he went about preparing the steak, rubbing olive oil into the fat marbled meat.
"Bella, this is Kobe Wagyu ribeye! An excellent cut. If you're after a steak, ribeye is the one to go for." 'Francesco' advertised, tilting the oil-slicked meat so Silvestro could see it from her chair. "All this fat will melt and flavour the meat to perfection!"
"Oh, nice," she uttered. "You're still going to use herbs right?"
"Of course! But I won't be putting any on the meat itself, that'll distract from the meat's independent flavour!"
"Okay," Silvestro as 'Francesco' visibly revelled in the sound of the steak meeting the hot grill. "So how is your chameleon? Uh, Leon, was it?"
"Ah, Leon, my sole heir!" 'Francesco' gasped fondly, "He's doing wonderfully, I'm surprised you remembered."
"Not every day you meet someone with a lizard as a pet. It's kind of one of your defining traits right now."
'Francesco' paused and turned to the woman, a tray, laid with a bed of rosemary, in his hands.
"Leon is my defining trait?" He asked, baffled.
"Well, that and the hat," Silvestro amended. "And the sideburns too." She leant back in her chair and frowned in thought, "I mean, you change your outfit nearly every time we see each other so the hat only really works for your…default state. The sideburns are your only consistency."
"I must admit I have no idea what you're talking about," 'Francesco' tutted, and turned up his nose theatrically. "I have always been a world-class chef-"
"And personal shopper, and escape artist and animal handler and architect" Silvestro continued, counting off with her fingers. "Did I forget anything, 'Gustavo-Andrei-Maxwell-Yvette-Renato-Francesco'?"
'Francesco' stared at Silvestro for a moment, dark eyes regarding her with some kind of indecipherable, calculating stare. Then he slowly smiled and said, "No, bella, you got them all. You have a good memory, don't you?"
"Went through a lot of privates and cadets," Silvestro explained, dropping her cheek back into her hand with a shrug. "People typically respond better if they feel recognised as an individual, wouldn't you know."
'Francesco' quickly took the two rib eyes off the grill and laid them on their rosemary bed to rest. In their place, he laid heirloom cherry tomatoes and sliced Nikkori pears to lightly grill.
"So thorough," he purred and crossed the kitchen to offer the woman a leftover slice of pear.
Silvestro glanced at the offering, and then back to the softly smirking 'Francesco'. "You sure you're not scared to get bit again?"
"So long are you're doing the biting," he winked.
Silvestro stared at him for a moment, "Francesco sure winks a lot."
"It's part of my charm," 'Francesco' crooned to her, and urged the sweet-smelling pear slice forward. "Come, bella, any closer and I'll be sitting on your lap! Unless that's what you want~?"
The mountainous woman snorted a laugh and, very gently and cautiously, took the slice of Nikkori pear. No biting this time.
"Oh wow, that's sweet," she uttered in surprise, "I expected it to be more sour."
"Nikkori pears are the best on the market!" 'Francesco' boasted. "Now, bella, do you have a long plate?"
"Uh, yeah, just in that drawer in the corner," Silvestro guided, still chewing pear in her mouth.
Silvestro looked down as Ruggine brushed against her ankle and sat at her feet. His rusty fur bristled and a grumble like a lawnmower's engine rumbled in his throat as he eyed the man in Silvestro's kitchen.
"Don't even think about it, Rugg," she warned, seeing the little butt wiggle he was gearing up for.
The rusty old cat looked up at Silvestro with a long, displeased squint, as if to say 'what kind of riff-raff have you brought into my house, human?' He gave a grunt as Silvestro poked him with her foot.
"Ah, I see the devil cat has graced us with his presence," 'Francesco' uttered from the kitchen, double-wielding tongs and a knife.
"Ruggine, my sole heir," Silvestro chuffed with a laugh, and sat back to peer as the cat in question started prowling around her living room,
'Francesco' glanced at Silvestro and took the moment of distraction to admire how she sat. The conversation had calmed her down well, once tight posture loosening off until the mountainous woman was slumped comfortably, her elbow cocked against the table and her legs left to spread as she sat. She was taking up room, letting her presence show.
This was good.
'Francesco' tore his eyes away from the straining material of her trouser inseam just as Silvestro turned back around.
"You look like you're nearly done," Silvestro said idly, eyeing the resting meat and grilling vegetables. "I'll set the table then."
'Francesco' held his knife in a steady grip as Silvestro entered the small kitchen. Eyes forward but senses spread wide as the woman went about pulling out plates and cutlery.
Silvestro's heavy footsteps moved to the small dinning table and 'Francesco' heard the clink-clack of plates being set down. Then she returned with those distinct, heavy-soled stomps that seemed to vibrate through to the very foundations and up the bones of 'Francesco's' skeleton.
"Sorry," Silvestro uttered quietly and 'Francesco' took in a long breath, rosemary, meat and something earthy scenting the air as the woman stood just behind him.
The kitchen was small, too small for someone of Silvestro's stature and far too small for two. 'Francesco' could feel the warmth, the pressure, and that buzzing, grumbling frequency of an irregular Flame.
"I need to get around you," Silvestro continued, her hand reaching up and around to the cabinet above 'Francesco's' head. 'Francesco' forced his muscles to relax, trapped between the counter and Silvestro's body. "The cups are in here."
The correct thing would be to move out of the way.
The smart thing would be to lean back.
'Francesco' rocked back on his heels and let his back meet the strong warmth of Silvestro's chest. He tilted his head and looked up, smiling coyly as he met the eye of the woman.
A surprised blush just barely touched her cheeks as she stared down at 'Francesco', visibly reeling with what to do next now that she had her date all but pressing himself into her. 'Francesco' smiled at the reaction, something devious crawling to the surface. But he had to be careful, it would do no good to scare his bella off now.
So he took another moment to just lean against her chest, and let his head fall into the crook of her extended arm. She didn't move away, still frozen. Bashfully, 'Francesco' glanced at Silvestro from under his eyelashes and, almost like he was embarrassed, 'Francesco' planted a feather-light kiss upon the swell of her bicep.
Silvestro yanked her arm and took a large step back. She bent her arm awkwardly to her chest, her face bright red and her ears burning as she looked from her arm to the floor to the wall to the ceiling.
He had kissed her! Not on the face or even the mouth but on the arm! Why did that somehow feel so much more intimate?
"Bella," 'Francesco' called gently and Silvestro nearly jumped to attention, before glancing down when 'Francesco' extended two cups to her. "You were going for the wine glasses, yes?"
"Uh, yeah," Silvestro nodded, carefully taking the cups by looping her fingers through the stems.
Silvestro fought not to freeze as her fingers stroked over his as she grasped the cups, swallowing way too loudly when she finally took her hand back.
"I'm sorry," 'Francesco' said all of a sudden, "if that made you uncomfortable. I might have overstepped."
'Francesco' bowed his head and let his shoulders sag, fingers playing with a pear stem as he apologised.
"No!" Silvestro denied quickly, her voice booming in the small kitchen. She cleared her throat roughly when 'Francesco' jumped. "No, I, uh, I'm okay. It was okay."
"Then, may I lean against you again soon, bella?"
Silvestro could feel her face burning at his request and had to actively remind herself that the items in her hand were glass.
"I…wouldn't mind it," she admitted, glancing off to the side.
'Francesco' took a tentative step forward, entering the space Silvestro had made before. His hands were behind his back and his shoulders shifted, nervousness all aflutter in his posture.
"And, may I kiss you again soon, miss Silvestro?" 'Francesco' requested, voice barely above a whisper.
Silvestro felt her breath hitch in her throat, and it was all she had to not splutter in surprise, anxiety and embarrassment. 'Francesco's' black eyes peered at her from under long lashes, a hopeful gleam in his eye as he waited patiently for her verdict.
Silvestro hid her lower face in the crook of her arm and muttered, "I wouldn't mind it."
'Francesco' blinked, before he beamed with such vigorous joy Silvestro could barely stand it. She coughed and straightened her posture before giving a short "I need to check on Ruggine" and fled the kitchen.