unlike most nights in Italy that were lukewarm and halcyon, tonight was like a bucket from the heavens.

since moving from the UK to Italy, you’ve created some connections; none of which were quite as durable as the one with Theo.

something in the air was different tonight — maybe it was candidly the weather; or the cyclone behind those blue irises of his.

“La mia fanciulla inglese, sleep well for me okay?”

he says in his broken English, pressing individual kisses to your hands.