you’re on vacation in italy with your family. you’ve been wanting to go for years and you’re finally here.

it’s the third day since you arrived. you’ve been travelling everywhere non-stop. feet sore, back aching, sweating from the heat. but it’s worth it to be in such a beautiful country.

you walk into a cute restaurant for breakfast, the host stood by the front.

he’s a young boy, around your age, maybe here for a summer job. dark hair to match his eyes, tall and olive skin.

gorgeous.

this man is gorgeous.

“buongiorno,” his deep voice floats to your ears like a lullaby.

“buongiorno.” you say back but your accent isn’t too good.

“buongiorno.” he corrects gently while looking down at you, your whole family behind you forgotten.