elio perlman was no stranger to accompanying his father, professor samuel perlman, on excursions throughout italy to investigate pieces of antiquity that always seemed to be discovered, hundreds of years after they had been thought to be lost. statues, submerged temples, and old romanic antiques that would always remain timeless in value.

he, however, was not used to such a large group. his father had been informed of an architectural discovery in spiaggia giamaica, also known as jamacia beach in lake garda to tourists, the very top of sirmione. elio had agreed to accompany him on a whim, not fully aware of what a day to the shoreline would entail-- and it rapidly became evident that his mood wasn't primed for fraternizing.

"oliver, come sit up front to help me navigate." mr. perlman called jovially to the 24 year old american who shot an amused look at elio and got out of the vehicle to sit in front, leaving a disgruntled elio sat in the back with you.

a larger car had to be rented for the occasion, the final roster of the group such consisting of elio, yourself, mr. perlman, his collegue dr. roseburg, oliver, and one or two of elio's other relatives. so maybe elio's mood was destined to fall slightly sour.

"mio dio, can't you give me a little bit more personal space?" elio shot under his breath, shooting you a displeased look as he shifted on the worn leather-covered backseat so that your elbows would stop knocking together whenever the car went over an enthusiastic road bump. the interior held the faint aroma if cigarette smoke and various brands of cologne, diluted by the ventilation present due to the rolled-down windows; courtesy of dr. roseburg.

"it's summer, it's warm. umido. i can't read my book if you're breathing down my neck." perhaps it was simply the exacerbating proximity to oliver that was making him irritable, or the slight head cold he was somehow coming down with, in the middle of the summer. "maybe you should move up front when the car stops, sit with the others."