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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 18, 2015 21:19:20 GMT -5
Well, the first week of the school year was always long, and this particular one had felt especially so. Pietro tapped a column of ash into the tray beside him as the bartender brought him yet another whiskey. Yes, this was the solution: getting thoroughly sloshed. Perhaps he'd even talk to some women, try to woo them, try to pretend that his head wasn't full of an endless train of SerafinaSerafinaSerafina.
He sighed heavily, rubbing one hand over his forehead as he settled back in the comfortable chair. It was one of the special chairs, of course ... the ones that were available to any Antonucchi at any time. Some kid and his dame had been quickly shooed away the moment Pietro had nodded his head in that direction. Really, in some ways, it was his chair.
Unless Uncle Enzo wanted it. Then Pietro would gladly be shooed away, himself.
All the people, all the laughter, the flirtations and the lies and the frivolity ... he should be taking part in it. But he was tired, and he was preoccupied with SerafinaSerafinaSerafina. It was just so difficult having her as a teaching assistant. The way she looked up at him when she asked what needed to be done ... and the way she was so skilled at teaching the younger students ... and the way she came to his desk for papers and the fragrance of her hair lingered even after she was gone ...
Pietro was starting to feel nervous. This was worse than he'd expected it would be. But he couldn't just fire her for no reason, and he also couldn't say, you're tormenting me. Oh, but the more he saw her and worked with her, the more he wanted just to reach out and take her hand and ask her to be his.
So here he was, mooning at the bar, half-drunk and smoking like a chimney, and even though it should have helped, it really, really didn't.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 18, 2015 22:36:23 GMT -5
The week had finally ended, and goodness gracious, Serafina couldn't have been happier about it. Sure, she would go without seeing her beloved for a few days, but if she didn't need that, she'd be lying. The days had been wonderful and torturous all at the same time ever since she began to assist Professor Holland with his lectures. Each day she spent right underneath the feet of the one man who had ever managed to truly capture her affections, and it was fantastic! The downside was that she was constantly surrounded by someone she longed so desperately for but wasn't allowed to touch or have.
A majority of the students weren't super enthused about her being their "assistant teacher" given her gender, so she managed to catch flack about it outside of the classroom. After one student made a snide remark in class about her being there, Professor Holland was quick to jump to her defense, which was actually pretty nice. It was relieving to have him jump to her rescue, even if it was in a completely platonic sort of way.
But, either way, she wanted an outlet. A means of escape to the strange and twisted year that was her seventh and final in school. The Red Velvet room was a mostly-Italian speakeasy that her parents frequented often enough that she was never turned away whenever she arrived. Perhaps it was because of their ties to the family that owned it - another wealthy Italian family like her own - that she believed were called the Antonucchi's? That sounded right, but she didn't really care. So long as she was allowed in and got drinks, she wouldn't meddle in any of their business.
So, as she slipped inside, she headed immediately for the bar. A shot. A shot was definitely necessary, and once she was seated and greeted by the bartender, she quickly ordered the best moonshine available as well as a glass of fine red wine. "Grazie," she said politely, throwing the shot back and cringing for a couple brief moments. It was twice as strong as last time, which meant she would likely be tipsy sooner than she thought. So after lighting up a cigarette and placing it at the end of her cigarette holder, she took in a deep drag and leaned back in the seat - not even noticing her professor seated immediately to her left and only about a foot away.
I love you, Lizzy! 
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 18, 2015 23:23:27 GMT -5
Was he ... was he seeing things? Had he consumed more whiskey than he'd realized? Here he'd been, thinking about this girl and only this girl and ... and now he could smell her hair and so she had to be real but ... how could this possibly be happening? And the outfit she was wearing, all the skin that was usually covered by the school uniform, and sure he wasn't sloshed yet but he was way too drunk for this, and ... the red, red lips ...
God, but he had to say something, didn't he? He couldn't just sit here ogling her. Eventually, she would turn to her left and see her creepy professor staring her down, possibly with drool on his face. So he pounded the rest of his whiskey, gestured for another, and cleared his throat.
"Miss ... Miss Latini. Shouldn't you be ... pursuing your studies? I would not have pegged you as the girl to come to a place like this."
He sounded like an idiot, like a stodgy old fool. But what else was he supposed to say? And then a horrible thought occurred to him. Was she here on a date? With a boy? Another student?
"You didn't come here alone, did you? It can be dangerous out here at night for a young lady."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 18, 2015 23:50:17 GMT -5
The show taking place on stage was boring tonight. It was just some washed up pianist with little talent, and even the lessons she had received as a child could surpass the talent of this man playing for her. She found herself growing bored in a matter of seconds as she smoked her cigarette, and as she lifted her wine glass to her lips to take a sip, she nearly sprayed it out of her mouth as her eyes widened at the sound of a familiar voice. Not just any voice, though. No. It was that voice, and it was coming from right beside her.
Turning her head to the left, she took in her professor - looking dapper as ever - and found her cheeks turning nearly as red as the lips she had decorated before arriving. How in the... Was this actually happening? What were the odds? Sure, there were only so many speakeasies available, but how did she just happen to sit directly next to him at the bar?
"Professor Holland... I finished my assignments early while the students were taking tests earlier today, I swear," she told him honestly. But wait... What was he doing here? Meeting someone? A colleague he had been crushing on for a while? Buy her a few drinks then take her back to his apartment? No, he had more class than that, but still... The idea caused a roaring jealousy to flare up in her chest. That was just not okay.
"I... I did come alone, yes. I come here on weekends during the school year. My family has some sort of relationship with the family who owns the establishment. The Antonucchi's I believe? I may be incorrect, but I have never met any of them personally." Well, that was kind of pointless information that he didn't really care to hear, she was sure. "I, umm... I hope this isn't too awkward to see me like this," she added, sort of raising her hands to try and cover her shoulders a bit. "I don't want to ruin your night, after all. That would be horribly rude of me."
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 19, 2015 0:11:54 GMT -5
With a grin, Pietro flicked his butt into the ashtray and reached immediately for a new cigarette. Smoking went perfectly with booze, after all, and with a smoke in one hand and a glass in the other, he could trust himself not to try anything stupid. He wanted desperately to reach out, put one finger on her shoulder, and trail it all the way down to her wrist. Couldn't do that if his hands were full.
"My apologies, I was merely teasing. I know that you always do your assignments. I was simply surprised to see you."
At her mention of the Antonucchis, he gratefully took a swig from his new whiskey glass. How perfectly sweet of her. Clearly the family's subterfuge was still in working order. Although, she would have to find out someday -
Wait. No, no she wouldn't. She was his student, not his lover. She would never be his lover.
"Yes, Antonucchi. Sounds about right," he replied casually. "But I do not like the idea of you walking back to the school alone at night. Poor girl, you've earned yourself an incredibly square chaperone. Lucky that there are no other students about to witness your embarrassment."
All right, well, this was working. He'd made a sort of joke, hadn't he? It was the alcohol. It was getting to his head. Oh, this was not smart, not smart at all.
He shook his head and waved away her concerns, being very careful not to look at any part of her below the neck. "No, no. You are not expected to wear the school uniform in your free time. And you cannot ruin anything. I am just here alone, drinking and smoking, and I was hoping to be able to enjoy the performance of a skilled musician. Unfortunately, that does not seem to be the case. How do you think this man got this job? Perhaps he auditions with the only song he can play well."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 19, 2015 10:06:10 GMT -5
He was so incredibly close. A mere foot of space separated the two of them, and how desperately she wanted to close that gap. Now and forever. What would be so wrong about her reaching over and taking his hand? Giving it a light squeeze and telling him just how incredible he was. Telling him that she would never be happy in life if she was unable to attain him and his affections. Then lean in to leave a simple red set of lips on his cheek. Even if he didn't return the love - which would devastate her - at least he would be aware of how she felt.
Oh, wait... Everything about that idea was wrong. So very, very wrong.
"I'm here fairly often, but I'm not surprised you haven't seen me before. You have better things to pay attention to here than making sure your silly students aren't sneaking in and making idiotic decisions," she said with a light, almost forced laugh. Oh, how she wanted him to notice her. So very badly.
She was shocked to hear him say that he didn't like the idea of her walking home alone. In this day and age, it was odd for men to be particularly overprotective of women - especially a teacher being protective of his student. But she definitely wasn't complaining and felt her heart leap in her chest a bit. "I don't usually run into trouble," she assured him, but she couldn't help to laugh at his joke about being a "square" chaperone. "I'm sure you're a lovely chaperone," she snickered. "But I won't fight you on walking me back to the school."
This was beginning to become overwhelming, and her nerves were shot - a feeling she wasn't used to. She was always so confident, so sure of herself, but here she was feeling like an insecure little girl without a clue in the world. All because of this man and the way she felt about him. The way she felt about him that she could never reveal. So, motioning to the bartender, she received another round of moonshine and nearly struggled to down it. "Goodness, this stuff has a horrible bite to it this evening," she confessed. "And I apologize for my drinking habits this evening. They're so very unladylike, but it's... Well, it's been a rather exhausting week."
Professor Holland commented on the musician's lack of ability, and she couldn't help but to agree with him. "I usually come here for the music as well, but this... Well, the ballad he is playing right now, I learned when I was eleven. My family appreciates the musical arts very much, so I was given piano lessons starting at the age of six." Why was she telling him all of these boring facts about her that he certainly didn't care to hear? Stupid. "But I don't mean to bore you with silly stories, of course. Perhaps next weekend they might even have a jazz band. After all, what better music to dance to?"
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 19, 2015 16:26:52 GMT -5
Mmmm, whiskey. He would have to stop soon, though. He'd had quite a bit of it before Serafina had arrived, and now he had a very good reason to keep his head on straight. He certainly couldn't go behaving in an undignified manner, or he would find himself in a lot of trouble and bound for Hell.
He would be walking her back to the school, head spinning, irresistible scent overwhelming him, and his careful control would snap. He would grab her wrist, pull her close, kiss her, and she would scream and push him away and everything would be destroyed: his job at the school, his reputation, his self-respect, his concern for the welfare of the young woman he couldn't get out of his head.
It was horrible to think about. He had to stop drinking. He was too drunk already. Pietro finished off his glass and requested water, leaning back in his comfortable chair, smoke drifting from his lips.
"When the performance is skillful, there is much to distract me. Perhaps that is why I have never seen my brightest student here. But it is important to watch out for people. After all, in my younger years, I often found myself being helped out of trouble. It took time to become proficient at coping with my brother's ... wildness, I suppose." He took a sip of his water, watching as Serafina downed another shot and then immediately apologized for her drinking.
Pietro shrugged, then noticed a man approaching with his gaze set on the young lady. Pietro made eye contact, glared, and shook his head, and the other man lifted his hands in defeat, unwilling to risk the wrath of an Antonucchi.
"The first week of the school year is always difficult, for professors as well. But I will watch out for you. I only hope that you use your smarts to keep yourself out of ... unpleasant situations. There is a certain sort of person who might want to harm a young lady who has been drinking, no?"
God help him, he drank in her comments about the music as a man in the desert would lap at an oasis. It was charming to hear such things: information he'd wondered about, stories that did not come up in classroom situations. She was musical. That was lovely. He would have a piano for her, the finest grand piano money could buy -
No. None of that.
"You are not boring, Miss Latini. My sister was also trained in the musical arts, but my brother and I spent most of our time in dueling and flying lessons. With those things and my studies, I did not have the time to be able to learn any instruments. I am afraid I cannot dance, either."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 19, 2015 21:23:01 GMT -5
The effects of her two shots - being as small as she was - began to hit her... Hard. The lights surrounding her began to intensify in brightness, but it wasn't enough to knock her on her rear end or to cause her to slur. She was still in her right mind, but she suddenly felt a bit more... Adventurous, maybe? She wasn't entirely sure what it was, but she felt her confidence begin to spark back up. It was as if she was too afraid to be "herself" around him - flirtatious, somewhat cocky, etc. - but not when she was buzzing. Still, she needed to slow down or she would be crawling on the floor.
She laughed softly at his comment and shook her head. "I'm sure I'm not your brightest student, Professor. You have plenty of gifted students in your classes," she assured him. When he began to speak of his brother as being "wild," though, she couldn't help but to raise her brow in suspicion. She knew that there were two Professor Hollands at the school, and she was aware of the connection between the two... But wild? "I'm not sure what you mean," she said with a shake of her head. "The last thing I can see the other Professor Holland being is 'wild.' He's beyond strict in his lectures and expects the best of behaviors and top notch work at all times. But, of course you would know him better than I."
Serafina took notice of her professor glaring behind her head before shaking his own. His stare was terrifying, and she was certain that whoever was on the receiving end of it surely left with his tail between his legs. "Are you alright? Someone you aren't too fond of, I assume?"
Then, though, he began to promise to watch out for her. He was seemingly aware of what she was going through with the other students, and while she could fend for herself, she definitely appreciated the offer. "You're a very kind man, Professor," she told him with a brilliant smile. "And you are probably right about me taking a risk by coming out on my own, but when it's the only choice you have, you just take the chance anyway. But I do promise to be careful."
She took another drag from her cigarette holder and exhaled the smoke away from him - exhaling it towards him would have been horrendous. The cigarette was helping to calm her nerves and was making her even more courageous than she was normally. She listened to him speak, informing her that she wasn't boring. Everything he said to her was kind and meaningful, and in her current state of intoxication, she was eating it up even more and more. So, before she knew it, she had extended a slender hand towards him and took it gently, giving it a light squeeze. "Well, Mister Holland, I promise you that someone as intelligent and handsome as you could do anything that they wanted.."
But instantly after that, she froze, realizing what she had just done and slowly retracted her hand. Her eyes were wide, and her cheeks were as bright as the name of her house implied. "I... I apologize.. That was inappropriate, and I..."
It was over. She had ruined everything.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 19, 2015 22:15:01 GMT -5
"I do not say things if I do not mean them, Miss Latini," Pietro replied a bit sternly. "You needn't feel obligated to deny my statements of truth regarding your academic talents." Oh, she was starting to sway ever so slightly in her seat. That was the thing about moonshine: You simply couldn't predict how strong any given batch would be. Good thing he was here to protect her from the other men, as torturous as it was to sit here, so close to her, with only those thin straps across her shoulders - No. Oh, Lord help him. He would have to take her home soon; this would only become more difficult.
He sighed heavily, wondering what on earth he'd been thinking, bringing up his brother. "The other professor Holland is a complicated man." Oh, he was a foolish drunk. Talking about his brother, and then he hadn't hidden his glare at all, and she'd asked about it, and what was he to say? I do not want any other man to talk to you? That was just ... just wrong. So Pietro shrugged, leaning forward to look into his glass of water as though it were something interesting to see. "No idea who he is, but he is too old to be flirting with my student. I said I would watch out for you, did I not?"
She thought him kind. Of course she did! He had always been kind to her! But if she knew the thoughts running through his head right now, she would not think him kind. She would think him monstrous. "I am not as kind as I would like to consider myself," he found himself admitting just before he swallowed the last of his water and took a deep drag on his cigarette. He blew a few contemplative smoke rings, his empty right hand dropping to the bar, and then suddenly her hand was on his ... squeezing his ... and she had called him handsome? Had she really ... was he just hearing what he wanted to hear?
Instantly, his head snapped to the side so that he could look directly into her eyes, and her cheeks were aflame, so yes, that really had just happened! How, though? And now she was apologizing and this was simultaneously the best and most terrifying moment of his life. Oh, he was going to break, wasn't he? He couldn't take it anymore. Before he could think of anything to say, Pietro reached out to touch her hand in the same way she had touched his. For a few moments, he just looked at her hand, delicate bones beneath soft olive skin that he had wanted to touch for oh so long and ...
"You must think about what you just said, and carefully, because - " his voice hitched, and when he spoke again, it was deeper, quieter, and far more intense. "Because the way I feel about you ... please do not toy with me. Do not say things you do not truly mean."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 19, 2015 22:38:04 GMT -5
He was serious about her being his brightest student? Sure, she was at the top of her class as far as test scores went and would stay there as she had during all of her years, but for him to think so very highly of her was astounding. It caused a faint hint of red to tint her cheeks, and she managed a weak smile in response. "Thank you for the compliment. I appreciate you having so much faith in me, Professor. Coming from my favorite instructor, it is truly inspiring to know that you think that way. I apologize if I offended you by rejecting it initially," she told him honestly.
Whenever someone would mention that someone else was "complicated," Serafina was raised to know that it meant to drop the subject, so that was what she did. Pressing into the actions of the other Holland brother wasn't a good idea, and it wasn't any of her business anyway. But when he said that there had been a man approaching her and that he was too old to be flirting with his student, she couldn't help but to laugh softly. "You did say you would look out for me, yes, and I appreciate that. But I assure you that whoever the man might have been, I would have had no interest in him anyway. I do not come here to participate in romantic adventures with strange men. They just... Well, they aren't the men that I want.."
But when he said that he wasn't as nice as he would like to believe, her expression turned slightly appalled by the statement. "You shouldn't question your manners and kind demeanor, sir," she told him with a shake of her head, the sternness in her voice resembling what he had just used on her. "I can't say that I have ever met someone as kind and genuine as you. Your passion for your work and your students is astounding. Don't question that."
Suddenly, his eyes were on her. She had slipped up and said something so stupid she could die of shame from her idiocy. What happened to the poised, intelligent, composed, and driven young woman she had been raised to be? Her gaze dropped shamefully to the bar as she took in the lines of the woodwork to avoid looking back at him, but when he grabbed her hand and squeezed it, she couldn't be so rude as to not look back at him. So she lifted her gaze, and as she stared back into the eyes she had fallen in love with three years before, she felt her jaw drop open at his words.
Was he... He felt a certain way about her? Her heart stopped, as did her breathing. He asked her not to toy with him and not to say things she didn't truly mean. "Professor..." No, this wasn't the conversation a student had with her professor. This was a conversation that a woman had with a man. A woman who was so madly in love with a man that she thought was unattainable that she couldn't stand it. "Sorry, I don't need to call you that in this moment." Her hand squeezed his once more in return of his, and she felt as if she was going redder and whiter in color from embarrassment as well as her nerves being completely shot out.
She spoke lowly and softly. "Pietro, I... I've had feeling for you for a while now.. A very long time, in fact, but I didn't know what to do. And this is probably wrong, but... It doesn't feel as if it is wrong. Nothing has ever felt wrong with you.. And I'm sorry to throw this on you, I just-" She had to stop talking. She was making a fool of herself.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 20, 2015 2:36:14 GMT -5
OOC: He's speaking Italian. It's a thing now. 
Pietro shook his head and waved away her apology. "No apologies are necessary so long as you remember your worth. It is not good to brag, but it is also not good to forget what you are capable of. You must do the research you mentioned before. You could contribute greatly to wizarding knowledge."
I will buy you everything you need. You will have the most well-equipped workshop in New York, no, in the entire country. When you make a great discovery, I will ensure that all will learn of it, and I will insist that you get the credit you deserve.
Another bad thought. He was just getting worse and worse by the minute! And it didn't help matters that she went on to mention the words "men" and "want" in very close proximity to each other. Bad, bad, horribly bad ...
But when she turned his stern tone back on him, it was surprising. It took him a moment to understand that it was, in fact, rather sweet. Strange. Utterly, unbelievably strange. And then, before he was able to respond there was that moment, and his face was closer to hers than it ever had been before, and she was saying things that couldn't possibly be true because ... because ... well, they simply couldn't! Could they?
Was this the moonshine talking? He might have assumed so, except for the fact that she mentioned "a very long time." That didn't sound like an impulsive, drunken come-on. It sounded serious, sounded like she returned his ... no. Really? No.
Pietro was officially speechless. It was all he could do to keep his mouth from hanging open in shock. Finally, he managed to whisper one word - "Serafina" - and it was all over for him. He was going to Hell and he didn't give a damn. Abruptly, he was in motion again, tossing some crumpled bills on the bar to cover their drinks, standing up, straightening his tie ...
"We must talk elsewhere," he murmured, staring around for a moment at all the people, barely registering that they were there, seeing only a mass of faceless noise that threatened this most precious of conversations. "Please," he beckoned, gesturing toward the doorway, "come outside with me."
He was filled with a sort of frenetic energy now, nerves and anxiety making him twitchy as he led Serafina outside and turned the corner to the secluded side wall of the building. Hardly a romantic venue, but what did it matter? He stood, gazing intently into her eyes, processing what she'd said and feeling simply amazed by all of it.
"I cannot believe ... do you really ... I tried so hard not to feel this way, but ... "
He just couldn't. He was too drunk to put this feeling into words. Instead, he closed the distance between them and placed his hands slowly, reverently, on either side of her face. He glanced up at the sky, murmured, "oh, I am a very bad man," and then he was finally - finally - kissing her.
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 20, 2015 12:11:12 GMT -5
Receiving support for her research was definitely something she hadn't expected. Typically, she would keep thoughts about her wanting to do Potions work to herself, but she supposed she just felt comfortable enough to share that piece of her with her professor a few days prior. "I appreciate your support. Most wouldn't expect someone of my gender to be able to accomplish much of anything, so it is refreshing to know that there's at least one person with faith in me," she said with an appreciative smile. "I promise not to let you down. After all, I owe a lot of my knowledge to you anyway."
The look of disbelief on his face likely mirrored the one that she could only assume was coating her own features. There was no way this could possibly be real. She wasn't here right now, and neither was he. It was the middle of the night, and she was deep into her dreaming state of her sleep cycle. Everything happening were figments of her imagination. All made up. All nonexistent. This was just a play-by-play of her deepest desires, and Lord help her if they weren't completely spot on. She would wake up in shortly and probably be devastated throughout the day, but this was the price she paid. This was what it cost to fall in love with your professor. It was taboo. Forbidden. Wrong... Amazing.
He got to his feet quickly and steadied his appearance before motioning towards the exit and asking her to accompany him. He was right - this was definitely a private conversation. Not one meant for the inside of a crowded bar, even if it was just an imaginary conversation taking place inside her sleeping head. Still, she wanted to find out where this dream ended up, so she got to her feet also and offered a gracious curtsy to the bartender before following Pietro outside and to a secluded side of the building.
It turned out that he had been fighting his feelings for quite some time as well, though she doubted his obsession started when hers did. "I know... I can't believe this is not one-sided, and I didn't mean to... I swear I didn't mean-"
But then his lips were on hers. Burning white hot like liquid fire. His hands were large and strong on her cheeks, but their hold they had on her was gentle and caring. The feelings that ignited in her veins snapped her to reality and caused her to believe that, no, she wasn't dreaming. It felt as if her insides could burst at any second, and she returned his kiss gingerly, longingly. But after a brief moment, she pulled away and shook her head, frowning slightly up at him. "I'm so sorry for this, Pietro. So sorry for putting you in this situation... I just can't help myself.." And then, she leaned up on her toes - hands holding lightly onto his shoulders to support herself - to push her lips against his once more.
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 20, 2015 20:08:35 GMT -5
How could this possibly be happening? How could it be true? Was this a dream? Had he consumed altogether too much alcohol and passed out on the bar like the lout he was? How could this young, beautiful, brilliant, perfect woman have been thinking of him when she had all those boys vying for her affections?
Oh, but here he was, kissing her, and he'd never had a dream this visceral, this realistic, each one of his senses so thoroughly entangled ...
And then she was pulling away ... why? Was she feeling regret? Oh, she was apologizing again, taking responsibility for tempting her professor into an unethical situation, and he could have laughed out loud, but instead he smiled softly down at her, running a few fingers through her silky, fragrant hair. "You are sorry for making my dream come true? I know it is not ideal, given our situation, but I am a patient man. I will wait happily for you, knowing that soon enough we can walk together in the daylight with no need to hide."
Then she was there again, initiating a kiss, and he couldn't help but press his hands against the small of her back to pull her closer, deepening the kiss as everything inside him threatened to overflow and turn him into a quivering mess begging, right then and there, for her promise of marriage. The need, the hunger, the seemingly endless months of wanting, the terrible lust and the alcohol ... oh, no, he wasn't being a gentleman at all. He was kissing her as though he would take her to his bed, and she tasted like moonshine, and his body was responding in a way that he did not think his seventeen-year-old love would want to experience while drunk in a dark alleyway with her professor.
As difficult as it was, Pietro stopped himself and stepped away, trailing his hands along her arms to turn their heated embrace into a sweet handhold. "Please forgive me. This is not something we should do after drinking. I do not want you to wake up regretting any of this night. I should walk you back to the Academy."
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Post by Serafina Latini on Jun 21, 2015 14:11:35 GMT -5
Wait for her? He was willing to wait for her?! She felt as if her heart could explode at his words. "Pietro, I don't think you understand just how happy that makes me," she said through a bright blush and a dashing smile. Her cheeks were beginning to hurt in the best of ways with how much she was smiling, but she wouldn't trade that pain for anything else in the world. But her smile was temporarily wiped away with their reunited kiss.
It was deeper and more passionate than anything she had ever experienced in her life. His scent filled her senses, her skin tingled all over, and her knees felt weak. She returned the kiss in the same manner, and as she felt him pull her against him by the small of her back, her cheeks flushed even redder. It made her borderline lustful, which was a feeling she wasn't really used to. Sure, she had been lusting after him for years now, but she never actually got her hands on him. Now that she had, she was melting into him, her arms drifting up to entangle around the back of his neck to pull him closer.
After a few moments, though, she felt him pull away, and she almost frowned until he began to speak. It was true, they didn't need to be doing this while they were drunk. After all, he might feel differently in the morning, and she would wind up crushed and have some sort of mental breakdown. She couldn't think about that right now though. She had to enjoy him while she still had him.
"You're very right. We should probably go ahead and get back," she said with a nod. Their hands were already holding, but she released one while intertwining their fingers on the other hand. "Shall you lead the way?"
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Post by Pietro Antonucchi on Jun 21, 2015 17:50:45 GMT -5
Oh, this was difficult, but it was the right thing to do. He couldn't take advantage of her drunken state. It would be hideously wrong of him: selfish, abusive, shameful. Yes, he wanted to take her to his bed, but he wanted her to know what she was getting into when it did finally happen. He was a patient man, truly ... was he not? No, he was. He could wait. He must wait.
"Serafina - " How wonderful it felt to say her name! How gracefully it rolled off his tongue, a song in and of itself.
"To hear you speak my name is pure ecstasy. Trust me, I would very much like to continue this, but I believe we will need clear heads in order to make proper decisions." Her fingers intertwined with his, and he smiled while lifting her hand to his lips for several kisses. They began their walk home, and Pietro hated the fact that he would have to release her hand when they arrived at the school, but for the moment, everything was right in the world.
"Shall we talk tomorrow? I believe you know where the professors' apartments are. Mine is number 110. We could speak in private there, and be quite safe as long as your arrival is not witnessed. But if you do not feel comfortable coming there, we could meet off-campus again? Whatever would make you happiest."
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