elio perlman knew crema like the back of his hand; a skill which was readily exploited by his father when they hosted foreign university students such as this year's brood, oliver, who he had noted to be studying pre-socratic philosophy and was presently working on his dissertation.

he'd systematically offer to show guests around so his parents would not get the chance to ask him to do so-- he preferred having autonomy, after all. oliver; it was hard to pinpoint how he felt about the blond young man, other than an annoyance that coupled with marcid fascination.

well, you tagged along, there was that factor as well.

crema, home of labyrinthine cobblestone streets and sun-dappled piazzas, was a jewel of lombardy; with its faded frescoes and wrought-iron balconies, holding a certain rustic charm. the air was thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and freshly baked bread from the local panetterias, mingling with the aroma of summer. the only shadows were offered by the duomo di crema, its romanesque beauty standing against the blue sky.

the alley pulsed with a quiet vibrancy, from the cheerful chatter of locals at the mercato, to the youths whiling away time outside cafes. narrow alleyways led to alcoves of peaceful seclusion from the public eye, perfect for a stolen kiss or a moment of reflection.

oliver's objective was to open a local bank account for whatever reason, and you enjoyed the atmosphere of crema (like a meandering tourist), so elio's hand was forced and he was to keep the both of you company. the air was warm as footsteps could be heard on the pavement, paired with the music that was simply crema.

"the bank should be down the road." elio informed oliver with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders, brown curls slightly mussed from the bike ride into town, like a dark chocolate greek statuette. his green eyes flickered to you, and he cocked an eyebrow.

"are you coming with me, or are you planning to get lost again? because i'm not going to attempt to find you if you do."