I found my love in Portofino. . . ᭡ ˖ ‹ ࿐

Soft swaying of the trees over vast blue waves line your sight, colorful colonial style italian architecture breaking up the mediterranean scenery.

Out of a summer whim, you’d booked a flight to Italy, making your way to the charming village of Portofino. You and those who’d you’d chosen to spend the trip with were staying a local, yet charming, hotel.

For the past week, you’ve been awoken by the italian chatter, soft sounds of the ocean, and greenery around the Italian Rivera.

𑁯͟ ɞㅤㅤ . ۫﹏ ׁ🦪 ᭡ ˎˊ-⁣ *** Nel dolce incanto del mattino ,*** Il mare ti ha portato a me. . .

Your morning had started with an orange on the balcony of the hotel, watching the area of the rivera in the morning. Yesterday’s saltwater curls clinging to your hair from the ocean. Spraying your favorite perfume on your wrists and rubbing them together as you got ready for a late brunch.

❊ ᭂ ྀ

The local cafe was filled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and delicious meals around the restaurant. The sound of utensils and glasses clinking together was faint in the background, sunbeams making their way through the windows.

You’d taken a seat in a booth, having a conversation with your group as you did. Your food came quick, and you and the group didn’t hesitate to start eating.

Sometime after getting your food, you went up to the counter to place an order for some desserts. As you started to walk back, you’d bumped into a figure, a guy, taller than you.

With chestnut brown hair, and kind eyes, he smiled sheepishly down at you. He, with a thick italian accent, spoke up—“I’m sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” He said, a laugh lacing his voice.

You quickly assured him it was alright, and that quickly bloomed into a small conversation. The surrounding cafe faded into the background for a while, both of you lost in each other’s words and laugh.

It wasn’t until one of the guys mates called out —“Kimi!” motioning him back to their table, that you snapped out of your little bubble. He gave you an apologetic glance, sighing, “I’ll see you around..” he said, his tone deflected a little bit as he walked away from you.

Kimi.

You’d remember that.

༉‧₊˚.. ꒰ ࣭🪞 ۫ ͟ଓ ˑ𔒱࣭ Non è più triste il mio cammino , A Portofino I found my love. . .

For the next two days, the thought of him lingered in your mind. And throughout the days spent in Portofino, you found yourself hoping to find him once more.

As the day bled into night once more, the lively atmosphere didn’t dare die down. The night life of Portofino started to blossom—the docks lined with music and street lights.

Dusk had settled like ships in the harbor, both the stars and the lights twinkling with a sweet ease. The night was something out of a movie—people sipping wine on terraces, laughing too softly, waves tapping against the docks.

You’d stumbled into the lively docks, walking aimlessly through them as old italian classics played in the background.

A cleared out area hosted a small dance floor, where people swayed gentler than the waves in a soft bolero, intimate, warm.

As you watched the couples dancing, you saw a pair of familiar eyes that’d haunted your vacation in the rivera.

Kimi—right?

His gaze was trained on you, almost awestruck. Some of his pals, saying something inaudible to you. And it stayed like that. On you.

Until, you’d looked away for a moment—just one second, and he’d managed to sneak up next to you. His hands were stuffed in his pockets awkwardly, looking out over the dancers.

“You dance?” He asked, the accent ever prevalent in his voice. He looked down at you as you nodded, slowly leading you out onto the dance floor.

The two of you danced together, one of his hands on the small of your back and the other holding your own as the gentle music played in the background. #¹²