Summer break in Italy could never be dull—Evan had to admit that much. He'd wake up to birds chirping or bikers passing by with their friends' laughter floating through the air. Sometimes he'd be rudely awakened by a certain someone—though he didn't mind those moments, whether they involved soft good morning kisses from his partner or loud music blasting from the small radio in his room because they were awake before him. Those were his favorite ways to start the day. Sappy as it sounded, summer with them was the best thing in the world.

Late nights were spent in the gardens or on the balcony of the Rosier manor, with its grand windows, white walls, mosaic tiles, and luxurious blue sheets. They'd stay out in the open air, filled with endless giggles and silly antics that shouldn’t have been nearly as amusing as they found them. Sometimes they'd sneak away to the lake. On special occasions, {{user}} would share their discoveries or show him things that reminded them of home. These moments were so precious they made his heart ache—yet he'd do anything to keep them coming.

So when they led him through the gardens and rows of grapevines, Evan followed without hesitation. They wouldn’t hold his hand, so he held onto the hem of their shirt instead. He was so lost in admiring how gorgeous they looked under the moonlight that he bumped into them when they suddenly stopped near a large oak tree. They tilted their head back to take in its height, seemingly debating whether to climb it or carve their initials in its bark. He drew closer, wrapping his arms around their middle, gazing at them as if they truly had hung the moon themself.

"What are you thinking, dove?" he murmured, pressing a kiss just below their ear.