Archive of Our Own ^beta

"You don't even know anything about me," Eleonora laughs, watching Edoardo's eyes flick across her face. She's not exactly been cornered in the corridor, and it's not like he'll try anything on her with so many people around, but when he meets her gaze again the distance between them feels much smaller. Plus, he's just asked her when she's going to stop teasing him and actually go on a date with him, so technically he's already tried something. 

There's something in his eyes that tells her he's taken it as a challenge, which is the exact opposite of what she wanted. "Okay, let's play a game," He shrugs, pushing himself off of the whole and straightening his shoulders, "I get twenty questions to get to know you, and then after, if I remember all your answers, then will you go out with me?"

"No."

"Eleonora, come on."

"No, Eduardo, because I refuse to play twenty-one questions with a fuckboy. We all know how that ends."

"Twenty-one? I only asked for twenty."

She scoffs at the grin on his face, "Fine, nineteen now."

"Wait, no I-"

"Eighteen."

"Ele-"

"Oh, look, seventeen."

"Stop counting down-"

"Sixteen."

"No, I take it back-"

"Oh no, now it's fifteen."

"I was taking it back!"

"Fourteen. Want to go for thirteen?"

He opens his mouth, probably to argue, but seems to have caught on and quickly shuts it again. 

It's not that Eleonora wants to go along with it, because she'd much rather lay on the ground and let each and every single student around them stamp all over her then let Edoardo Incanti know anything about her, but she did just bend the rules of the game he wants to play - and, really, how much damage could he possibly do with fourteen questions?

"Great," She smiles, closed mouth, and a no-nonsense nod his way as she saddles her bag over her shoulder, "Fourteen questions. Have fun, Eduardo."

Quite possibly her favorite place to study is the coffee shop just across the corner from the school. It's relatively quiet, especially at this time of the morning, and the barista's have gotten used to her setting up camp in the corner armchair that they even give her a free pastry on days she looks particularly stressed. It appears to be one of those days, which she blames entirely on Filo. She'd been cramming for her Chemistry test all weekend and had completely forgotten about the radio episode she's supposed to record at lunch. She'd asked Filo to do the laundry yesterday so she could keep on studying, but it seems he was more preoccupied with someone on the other end of his phone because her lucky shirt was still sat at the top of the laundry basket this morning. 

So she's not wearing her lucky shirt, which means she probably won't pass her Chemistry test, and she's not feeling lucky enough to write out a decent radio episode layout for after school, and it's all Filo's fault for not taking thirty seconds out to wash their damn clothes. 

The apricot pastry sat next to her coffee mug makes up for it a little, but the blinking cursor on her screen seems to be mocking her the longer she slouches in the armchair with no words finding their way on to her keyboard. 

If she were wearing her lucky shirt, she thinks, maybe the document would magically write out an episode for her. 

Except, she's not, and of course Edoardo fucking Incanti drops himself into the armchair next to hers with a happy little grin. 

"I want to know how you take your coffee."

She blinks at him, then at his hands that fiddle with his card and student ID, "Excuse me?"

"I have fourteen questions," He says as if she should just know, and, really she should, considering they don't have that many conversations, "So that's number one."

"It's not even a question. I said you get fourteen questions. That was a statement more than anything else."

"Fine," He rolls his eyes, "How do you take your coffee?"

It's not what she'd expected. She was prepared for those basic questions everyone asks, what's your favorite color? you're go-to karaoke song? middle name?, but he's thrown her for a loop and she's not too sure what to make of it. Really, it should have been expected; it's Edoardo Incanti for god's sake, Eleonora should have known he had a plan in mind when he brought this little game up, and she fell right in his trap without a second's hesitation. 

But now he only has thirteen questions, and it seems like a lot but there are so many questions he could ask, so many questions that would be a waste, and this coffee question feels like a throw-away. Like he's testing the waters or just trying to find a way to get the ball rolling. Maybe he was struggling with finding the right first question, and seeing her sat here was just the perfect opportunity he couldn't pass up. She's seen him here before, so it's not like he's gone out of his way to figure out she studies here sometimes and had to physically drag himself over just to ask this one question. 

It's a throwaway, it has to be. 

"Two sugars and a little bit of milk," She finally replies, because he's been sitting there with an arched eyebrow for the past two minutes, "Sometimes with caramel but it depends."

"On?" He quizzes, and then, "And that doesn't count as a question."

She would argue, but that damn cursor's still blinking rapidly on her screen and it's either answer him or try and write a whole episode in half an hour before she has to be in her History class. 

Sana will probably have a spare episode script she could use today anyway.

"How much sugar I'm going to need for the day," Ele shrugs, closing her laptop and tucking it back into her bag, "Or how productive my day's been and whether or not I want to treat myself."

Edoardo hums, leaning back in his seat and tapping his card against his knee. It's an electric blue, still shiny and more than likely brand new, a stark contrast to the worn-in black jeans and combat boots he's wearing. She'll never admit it out loud, but the boots are actually quite cool in her opinion - but even Silvia hates them, and admitting that there's an aspect of Edoardo Incanti that Eleonora doesn't detest with a burning passion would only lead to teasing from all of her friends. 

"Are you going to need a lot of sugar today?" He asks, nodding to her empty coffee mug on the table opposite them.

"Chemistry test after lunch and I need to record an episode for the radio but I don't have a script," She says in way of answering, shrugging and toying with the sleeves of her blouse. 

There's something about talking with Edoardo - actually talking - that leaves her feeling a little vulnerable and open in a way that their sparring never gives her, especially when he shows that he's actually listening and not searching for a break in her sentence to shove in another quip about a date or about her hair. 

He hums once more, before standing up and grabbing her bag alongside his before she can even blink. 

"Hey!"

"Come on," He calls over his shoulder, already halfway to the counter. The dark green tote bag she lugs to school every time she has a test doesn't quite work with the dark gray of his knitted sweater, but he drops it to his feet gently once he's at the counter and smirks at her until she comes to a rest next to him. 

The barista's not that new, so she knows Eleonora only ever comes in alone and only ever has one drink. She's had her drink already, but she's already diverted from the normal today and, after her weekend, another coffee won't hurt. 

"Let me pay," She says, a beat too late because he taps his card against the reader and just shrugs innocently when he meets her eyes again.

"My treat," He says, flipping his wallet closed and shoving it in the back pocket of his jeans.

"No, now I owe you."

"You don't owe me," He scoffs, stepping aside so someone else can order. He's still holding her bag hostage between his feet, but she's not going to argue for it back anytime soon considering how heavy her textbooks are today. 

"Here," She says anyway, breaking the pastry in her hands in half and wrapping one in a napkin. He smirks at her, no doubt amused by the conviction on her face, but relents and takes it anyway. "Now we're even."

"Whatever you say, Ele."

The hum of the coffee shop around them is soothing as she nibbles at her half of the pastry, back against the wall as she watches people pass by the windows. They'll have to be at school soon, considering how heavy the throng of students passing by has gotten, but she'd be lying if she were to say that she would rather go to history than stay in the quiet moment they're sharing. 

"Why that question?" She asks, cutting through the silence between them.

There are a few pastry crumbs on the front of his sweater, but he bats it away casually and wipes at the corner of his mouth with the napkin, "What?"

"That question. Why did you ask how I take my coffee?"

"I didn't realize I crossed a line."

"You didn't," She huffs, swatting at him when he laughs, "But... I don't know, I expected something more basic."

"Your words hurt, did you know that?" He hands her the new coffee with a smile towards the barista, and then a more dazzling one to her, "I can't believe after all this time you still consider me to be basic."

"Edoardo."

He shrugs again, picking up her bag once more and heading towards the door, "I said I wanted to get to know you, Eleonora Sava, so that's exactly what I'm doing."

It throws her for another loop that carries her right to the school gates. It's not until her bag is firmly back onto her own shoulder and Edoardo's disappeared into the crowd in search of his friends that she even realizes where she is.

There's not another question until the day she has to be pulled away from the girl yelling at Eva. Eleonora can't remember who had grabbed at her elbows to keep her from taking another step forward, she just remembers that Eva had taken a step back when the girl got into her face, and then suddenly Eleonora was stepping in front of her friend and yelling right back. 

It's a little embarrassing, thinking back to it, especially when the sound of feet stop at the bottom of the staircase and she meets the dark brown eyes of the one guy she's been desperate to avoid today. 

His friends are assholes, and just because he bought her a coffee and 'wants to get to know her' doesn't mean he's any different. 

There's a wall, She reminds herself, Silvia is one of those many x's next to Edoardo's name, he's a fuckboy and it doesn't matter how snugly that shirt fits him, nothing's changed. 

"Do you prefer summer, rain, or when the air turns frosty?"

"How are you getting to know me with these questions?" She asks, dropping her textbook closed in her lap and watching him steadily as he sits with her on the window sill.

His shirt's a light blue today, sleeves rolled to his elbows and only half of the hem tucked into his jeans. There's a scratch on the back of his hand and his hair seems more tousled than normal, but only thirty seconds before two girls she knows are in his year had stormed past complaining about their Latin test and how impossible it was, so she narrows it down to a difficult paper. 

Edoardo mirrors her position, back to the wall and feet between them, but he begins drawing patterns in the condensation on the window rather than meeting her gaze. "How else am I meant to get to know you?"

"Most people would start with the basics."

"Ah, but we've already established that word is hurtful," He grins at her now, finger pausing for just a moment before he carries on drawing strong curves, "And didn't you do a radio episode on getting to know people? What did you say? You have to ask the questions no one ever thinks about, that's how you really get to know someone?"

That episode was last year, well before the girls were even a blip in his target radar - well before Eva added Eleonora on Facebook and they were all roped into Silvia's schoolgirl crush. Even if he had listened to it when it came out, which she highly doubts since the radio had roughly three active listeners back then, it's a testimony to his dedication that he even remembered it, but the fact that he had to go digging for the episode just to hear what she said throws her for yet another loop. 

She's getting really sick and tired of Edoardo Incanti and his loop throwing. 

She sighs, taking a moment to think about his question - because she had said that, damn her - before she answers, "When the air turns frosty."

"Huh," Edoardo drops his hands to his lap and watches her now, eyes a little surprised and Eleonora relishes in it for just a moment, "I thought you would have said summer."

"How come?"

"You like plants," He shrugs, dropping it in casually as if they're as close to each other and she is with Eva, "Don't they do better in the sun?"

"My life doesn't revolve around plants."

"Very true," He nods, sitting forward and wrapping his arms around his bent knees. He's close enough that the toes of his sneakers bump against hers, "So why do you prefer the frost?"

This one doesn't feel like such a throwaway, not like the last question, but it's a more intimate memory that she shouldn't be so willing to share. She'd hesitated over revealing her stupid coffee order, for Christ's sake, yet she's opening her mouth before she can stop herself and saying, "My mother hated working when it was cold, before she got the promotion my dad would take time off work and we'd drive around for a few days. Normally it was around Christmas so we'd drive along the coasts and see all the Christmas lights in Gaeta and Formia."

"You don't do that anymore?" He's playing with his shoelaces, not looking at her but still attentive, so it's easier to answer knowing his eyes aren't watching her every move. 

"No," She shakes her head, letting hair fall from behind her ear to block her view of the outside from the corner of her eye, "My brother and I go around the neighborhoods close to us, though. It's just us two now."

Seeing the lights... remembering the tradition... together. She won't tell him these things though - that her parents have their own families that they drive along the coast, who get presents and a Christmas, that she and Filo have a new tradition of finding the most ironic present for each other and pretending that the lousy Christmas cards of their half-siblings don't stink. 

When Eleonora finally looks up, Edoardo's already looking at her. There's something unreadable in his eyes this time, halfway between curiosity and familiar understanding, but a slam of a door echoing through the stairwell shocks them both out of whatever moment they were caught in. 

"How's Eva?" He cuts through the silence. There's a diamond drawn on the toes of his sneakers, outlined in thick black sharpie, but spotted with tiny paint droplets here and there. 

"She's okay," She says gently. His best friend is the reason the fight had started and knowing it is just a reminder of the people who Edoardo associates himself with; who Edoardo is, too, "I think she's more stressed out about her German test than what happened."

"I heard you had some words to say too," He grins at her, tapping his fingers onto her knee before retreating as if he'd never touched her, "And not a single comment about her hair either, how disappointing."

"Next time I'll make sure to mention it," She's only a little shocked to realize she's smiling back at him as he chuckles, but there's something about the way he bites his lip around the upwards tilt of his mouth that's a little infectious. She rakes her nails against the corner of the textbook to ground herself before speaking again, "I thought you would have taken her side? Her being your best friend's girlfriend and all?"

Edoardo shrugs and swings a leg off the windowsill to kick at the floor absentmindedly, Eleonora's eyes follow the movement purely to avoid watching the way Edoardo's mouth moves around the words, "Nah. Don't tell anyone but I'm not the biggest fan of hers anyway."

"She wasn't exactly in the wrong," She points out, flicking her eyes up only to see he's watching his foot kick too, "She's still his girlfriend, there's a right to be angry somewhere there."

"To Fede, not Eva," She's thrown for yet another loop when Edoardo looks up at her, eyes hardened as he talks, "It doesn't matter if Eva knew or not, Fede shouldn't have kissed or made the moves he did. I love him, but that was a dick move."

There's something about the way he says it that leaves no room for argument, no room for doubting that it's what he truly believes. Nonetheless, there's a moment where Ele thinks he's just saying it because it's what she wants to hear, but only until he looks away from her first and out the window. The tense tick in his jaw gives it all away - that he meant what he said, that Fede shouldn't have kissed her or let on to the fact that she could kiss him or however it went. 

That the wall may still be a think, and Edoardo may have still slept with Silvia and humiliated her in front of everyone, but he's not the quite the egotistical fuckboy that he paints himself to be. 

For a moment he's just Edoardo, and suddenly Eleonora needs to leave so she can breathe normally again. 

"I have Latin, now, I should..." She trails off, pointing numbly to the stairs he's just come down from. 

He nods, "Maths," He jerks his own thumb downstairs, but he doesn't make a move to stand up. Ele nods right back at him before dashing up the stairs, dropping everything back to the floor as soon as the door slams shut after her. 

The library's half-full, but the corner Ele's tucked herself away into hides herself from the rest of the room. She needs to fix edits on her essay due next period, needs to plan out dates so her and Filo can at least pretend they've made an effort to see their mother this weekend, needs to avoid Silvia and her rant about the party the Villa boys are throwing this weekend and what she should wear.

Needs to avoid Edoardo and his stupid distracting smirk, but her hiding place isn't as secure as she thought it was.

She feels him behind her before she sees or hears him, the brief touch of his jacket zipper against her shoulders making her bit back a gasp she won't give him the satisfaction of hearing. Edoardo crouches down behind her chair, crossing his arms over the back of the chair and propping his chin on his forearms. That leather jacket makes noise with every movement and it feels too loud for Eleonora's secluded corner she's created for herself. 

"If you had to pick, vanilla or chocolate?" 

"I thought we weren't doing basic?"

There's a rustle as he shrugs, "You always ask why I don't go basic, I'm hoping this will shut you up about it."

"Not likely," She entertains him but keeps her gaze steadfastly on her laptop. Five pages of the importance of Jane Austen's language choices stare right back at her, red text highlighting everything she doesn't like, the clock in the corner telling her she has half an hour before she needs to hand this in. And yet, for whatever reason, she turns ever so slightly in Edoardo's direction and looks over her shoulder at him, "And neither."

"That's not how this works," He tuts, "You have to choose one."

"They're both boring choices, give me another one."

"No. Chocolate or vanilla?"

"Fine, vanilla."

He makes a face and she can't fight back the chuckle at it. 

"Vanilla? How boring."

She scoffs, watching as he stands up and walks around the chairs to join her, "I said give me another option but you refused."

"Because I had that written down, I can't go against my list Eleonora, that's against the rules."

Knowing he's written out a list makes something in her mind reel, and she needs to swallow so that her mouth's not as dry as it's suddenly become, "You have a list?"

"Of course," He says like it's no big deal, even pulls out his phone and scrolls down a notes page to show her. It's too quick for her to read any of them, which he probably did on purpose, but she does know there are more than fourteen questions on there. When she points it out, he shrugs again, "I figure you'd have already fallen in love with me by then and I can just keep asking more."

"I'm not going to fall in love with you, Eduardo."

He gives her his famous crooked grin in response, "I think you will, need any help with your work?"

She's actually having a really good day. Like a really good day. 

Filo had done their laundry and washed the dishes before she even knew they were there, the dying plant she'd brought back two weeks has made a turn about and is sprouting new leaves, it's sunny outside so she can wear her new sunglasses, her bus was on time and she had the exact change for her ticket so she didn't hold the queue up, and she'd gotten full marks on her Jane Austen essay. 

Everything's coming up roses for her, and she's not going to let Edoardo's sudden appearance dampen her mood.

"Okay," He starts things off, their elbows nudging together as he walks alongside her, "It's not posed as a question, but it counts."

"Shoot," She says, slightly distracted trying to find her purse amidst the clutter that is her bag. 

"I want to know how to cheer you up when life gets rocky."

"Leaving me alone typically works," Her purse isn't here, which means she forgot to get it back from Eva when they grabbed food at lunch and she'll have to walk home. Again, she's not going to let anything dampen her mood, and it's still warm outside so it's not necessarily a burden. For once she has no homework to speak of tonight, but the promise of Filo's brownies cooling on the counter definitely makes her want to speed things up with Edoardo so she can get home. 

"Come on, Ele," Apparently sensing her desperation to get home he stops short in the middle of the path and tugs her elbow, spinning her round to face him, "What makes you smile on a bad day?"

"You're really dedicated to getting to know me, huh?" She shoulders her bag more steadily, watches the tips of Edoardo's ears tinge pink ever so slightly against his curls. 

The cockiness of his smirk wipes away anything that the blush might have indicated at, "Of course. I'm going to make you fall in love with me, Eleonora, so I need to get to know you to do that."

"I'm not going to fall in love with you."

"Why so?"

"Because I could never fall in love with a guy called Eduardo."

He huffs and steps closer so he can gently knock his fist against her shoulder. Her bag falls down her arm into the crook of her elbow, but she doesn't make a move to fix it. A girl from her Latin class waves at her as she sidesteps them and Eleonora briefly remembers they're right outside the school gates before Edoardo demands her attention again.

"Seriously," He shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets and swaying back on his heels, "What cheers you up?"

It's not a throwaway question, and he looks genuinely interested in whatever she might say. But she doesn't really know what to say, just struggles for words for a second before someone barrels past her and nearly tips her over. Edoardo's hands catch her elbows before she can fall, and she shuffles closer to the body heat he expels without thinking too much about it.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," She nods, fixing her bag finally and running a hand through her hair just to stop herself from touching him. The buzz of chatter around them fills her ears again and Edoardo looks around them now too, jerks his head in a silent hello to someone across the road. 

"Do you want a lift home?" It's not the first time he's offered, and even if she says no probably won't be the last either. She can see his car a few spots down, notices he's had to walk past it when he was trying to keep up with her, and wonders how far away from it he would have gone if she carried on walking when he stopped her. 

"Sure," She finds herself saying, blinks in surprise alongside him before he grins and leads the way. He even opens the passenger door for her, kind of ruins the moment with an over-exaggerated bow and she shoves at his shoulders until he stops and starts heading to his side laughing. 

There's no music playing when he starts the engine, but he does wave his hand in the direction of the AUX cord as a silent invitation. Part of her wants to take it, ask for his phone so she can see what kind of music he plays, or play her own and see his reaction, see if he knows any of the songs she plays on a dedicated loop. Instead, she shakes her head and pivots to face him, seat belt rubbing into her neck a little before she tucks it under her arm. 

"Why do you want to know how to cheer me up?"

Edoardo pauses, both hands on the steering wheel but not letting them out of the parking space. "I want to get to know you."

"There are other questions."

"I want to know the answer to this one," He shrugs, "I want to know the answer to all of them, but this one seems to be more important."

Ele nods, the first to smile when he meets her eyes, "It depends on who's trying to cheer me up."

He hums, turning to face her too with one arm resting on the steering wheel and the other reaching out to scratch his nail at a tea stain on her jeans. His hum's a silent indication to elaborate, but she kind of short circuits when his entire palm engulfs her knee in a gentle caress and she finds she doesn't want him to stop touching her. There's a proud little smile on his face when he realizes this fact, but he hides the smugness well.

"Well," She clears her throat, decides if he's playing this game she's going to give as good as she gets and brings one hand up to trail her fingers along the veins in the back of his hand, watching the tan skin as it flexes against her knee briefly, "If it's Filo, he makes me tea and we make fun of the bad Spanish soap operas."

"You speak Spanish?"

"No," She laughs quietly, trailing her fingers up to the leather-bound bracelets on Edoardo's wrist, "We try and guess but we're really bad at it. But it cheers me up."

"And Eva?" He asks, rubbing his thumb against the part of her thigh he can reach without moving his hand from the bend of her knee, "How does she cheer you up?"

"About the same way as the rest of the girls," She says, slipping her pinky finger under his bracelets to run against the skin there, softer than the rough skin of his hand, "But she knows me a bit better. She brings junk food and goes through all my clothes to make the most ridiculous outfits she can find. The other girls just bring food and movies."

"So what would I have to do?" It's whispered now, his hand tightening a little on her leg and she flicks her eyes up to meet his. 

"You'll have to figure that out on your own," She says, way more confident than she thought she would be considering the moment they're locked in. As he drives her back home he teases her about her music and only lifts his hand from her thigh when he needs to change gears - it's a little concerning how happy she is when he drops his hand right back to her leg when the gear's right, but he doesn't mention the interest in his bracelets and she's not about to be the first one to break the moment.

She needs a breather from the party, but Sana's clinging to her arm in fear Eleonora will disappear and leave her alone with the Villa boys and Silvia's insistent flirt eyes in Edoardo's direction, so she's forced to stay and mingle. Eva disappeared the second Federico came into view, and even mentioned to drag Fede and along with her, which really leaves them with just the boys.

Chicco's next to her, if she's gotten the names right, but she's too focused on Edoardo directly opposite her and the way his eyes have been flicking up and down her body the entire time he's been stood there. She remembers the warm, comforting weight of his hand on her thigh as he drove her home - the way her skin broke out into goosebumps when he touched her, and that was when she was in jeans. She's in shorts now, a little shorter than she would go for but Silvia had insisted she dress more risque than she would normally go for. Her top shows more skin that she's happy about too, but the only person she's noticed who's paid her any attention since walking in has been Edoardo, and there's something a little exciting about it.

Except, Silvia's right next to him in a tight, short dress that's capturing the attention of pretty much every guy in the room except for Edoardo's, and he's the only one Silvia even wants to look at her. Ele feels only half bad about it, knows she should feel more than that for her friend, but also knows that Silvia's aware that as far as Edoardo's concerned it was a 'one and done' kind of deal; that she clearly wants more than he does, that she's not respecting that boundary he's put in place.

That he's not interested in Silvia. 

And it doesn't mean he's interested in Eleonora, but the way he's looking at her right now makes her feel too special to linger on it.

"I'm going to get another drink," She says, taking advantage of her empty cup and turning in the direction of the kitchen, "I'll be right back," She promises Sana and ducks through the door before she can argue. 

There's a weight at the small of her back seconds later, a warm breath of air against her neck as Edoardo whispers into her ear, "More than one drink tonight? Who's pants are you trying to get into?"

"Eva's," She throws back at him, glad the kitchen's empty, even more, glad when Edoardo plucks her cup from her hands and nods at the selection of alcohol lining the table. 

He snorts at her joke, "What drink?"

"What can you make?" She asks, hoping it's not obvious that she doesn't really know what kind of alcohol she even likes. Whatever cheap wine the girls drink as a pregame is vile, but it gives her the right buzz she needs to carry herself through the parties they drag her too, and the fruity mix Eva had handed to her ten minutes ago tasted exactly like juice. 

"Pretty much anything."

"Surprise me, then."

She pulls herself to sit at an empty space on the counter and watches his shoulders move under his tee shirt as he mixes them both the same drink. If this were a year and a half ago she would have watched eagle-eyed at what he put in the cup, what alcohol he had reached for, made sure his hands were always in her eyesight, but tonight she lets herself lean back and trust him. He doesn't block her sight of the cups anyway, doesn't drop anything in there that shouldn't be, just a shot of alcohol Ele doesn't bother to remember the name of and enough lemonade to fill up the rest of the cup. 

It tastes almost metallic but in a good way, his eyes on her as she gives him an approving hum more dizzying than any alcohol around them.

"What's your favourite movie?" He asks, resting next to her, shoulder brushing against her arm. 

They've taken a step across the no touching line, and she blames the cheap wine when she reaches out and brushes the curls from his forehead as she answers, "Hocus Pocus."

"Hocus Pocus?"

"Shut it," She kicks half-heartedly at his leg, misses, as he laughs, "What's wrong with Hocus Pocus?"

"It's a Halloween movie."

"False," She shakes her head, feeling warm all over when he leans into her to laugh against her shoulder, "That's just what Hollywood wants you to believe. Hocus Pocus can be watched anytime. I watched it last Christmas."

"Fuck off."

"I swear I did! Ask Filo."

"I don't doubt it," He shakes his head at her, "I was just expecting something more... underground."

"Underground?"

"Yeah," He nods, turning on his heel to lean his elbows against the counter next to her thigh, "You know, something I've never heard of that I'll have to watch tomorrow so I can talk to you about it."

Again, warm all over. "We can talk about Hocus Pocus."

He opens his mouth to say something, but then someone calls Ele's name and it sounds distinctly like a stressed-out Sana. 

"We left her with the boys," Edoardo sighs, taking Ele's hand as he hops off the counter, "Better go save her, Miss Sava. Maybe start a calming circle."

"I absolutely will," She calls over her shoulder and smiles as he laughs.

Edoardo's become a constant presence in her life now, and she's not quite sure what to make of it. He's there when she gets off the bus; there when she pays for her lunch, when she walks through the corridors and when her and Eva grab an early dinner at a cafe downtown where he's two tables down with Nicco; when she and Filo are grocery shopping; when she stops to tie her laces at the school gates and looks up briefly.

When she leaves school after recording a radio episode. He's leaning against his car, engine still running, bag nowhere to be seen, clearly waiting for her. 

"That's doing nothing good for the environment," She jerks her head to the running car, "How long have you been here?"

"Only a few minutes," He shrugs casually, pushing to a stand and smiling at her as she stops right in front of him, "Let me drive you home?"

"I'm not going home," She arches an eyebrow as he reaches for her bag, but lets him take it without a fight anyway, "I'm meeting Filo at the greenhouses."

"Okay, let me drive you there then." He's already walking to the passenger door, taking her bag with him and depositing it in the backseat, "You're going to have to tell me the way."

The door's open for her, but she stands on the other side of it, lets Edo lean his arm against the top of the car and lean over the door towards her, "Hi," He grins, "Good recording?"

"I didn't stutter," She shrugs it off, "I'm guessing you have another question?"

He hums and nods, lifts his hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, and rubs his thumb against her jaw, "You totally look forward to these."

She should move away from him, make him drop his hand, probably shouldn't get in his car either, but he's not exactly wrong. There's a part of her that does look forward to these questions - the questions or the time alone with him, she can't exactly be sure, but she's past the point of avoiding him these days. It's been a week since the party, and it's not that they've not seen each other (he's driven her home twice when it rained, the boys have started sitting with them in the courtyard whenever they see each other, their Chemistry classes happen at the same time right next to other), it's that they've not had a chance to talk, even about dumb stuff that doesn't matter. 

Silvia's still clinging on to the idea that Edoardo's playing hard to get and likes to throw around the argument that he's not hooked up with anyone in months now, not even a kiss, and Eleonora's just glad she'd been away in Manchester for so long because she doesn't think she could have handled six straight months of Silvia's crush anymore. She'd thought it would be done when she got back. Especially when, a month before her course finished, Silvia had messaged the group chats crying about not getting a response from Edoardo in months. Eleonora had called him a dick then, but watching her still fawn over Edoardo makes Ele understand why he's chosen to not reply, to ditch her quickly then try and let her down with words again.

Silvia. Another reason why Eleonora should step away. She should tell him to stop, that she won't do that to her friend. Should squash down whatever he's been pulling out of her recently and just walk away.

Except, she really really doesn't want to.

"Not so much the questions," Eleonora teases because they do that now, "But the cookies, definitely."

Edoardo rolls his eyes and pushes himself from the car, waiting until she's fully seated and buckled in before he closes the door after her and rounds over to his side. Ele has the cookie tin on her lap by the time he's pulling them out of the school gates and shakes his head when she offers him one. 

"So," Ele sighs, slipping the tin into the backseat when Edoardo's hand finds it's normal position on her thigh, "You were pretty basic with the last question."

His fingers flex against her teasingly because he can't take his eyes off the road to roll them at her, "Ah, but if I keep asking all the deep ones you might get scared off. I need to keep the field level, Sava."

"I didn't think of that, how foolish of me."

"We all make mistakes."

Ele huffs out a laugh, begins playing with his bracelets again, and wants to ask about them, but Edoardo asks the questions first. He always does, "Hit me with a deep one," She says instead, biting into the cookie in her hand. 

"What do you like about your life?"

She could make a joke here, but they're crossing all kinds of boundaries recently - touching, teasing, friendly banter, talking - and she's long past the point of being weary he'll spin it into some kind of joke, into some kind of way to get into her pants. 

She's wearing shorts today, had to miss out on tights thanks to holes in pretty much all of them, so his hand feels heavy against her skin and she's pretty sure he can feel the goosebumps on her thigh.

"I like my friends," She says gently instead of a joke, "And that I know they care about me. I like my brother and my grandmother, the family that sticks around. And my plants and school and learning. Movie nights every week. That the Thai place recognizes Filo's number, they don't even pick up anymore they just know our order. That I don't count calories before I eat anymore, and that I'm not afraid anymore. Of everything that happened before... I'm not afraid it's going to happen again."

There are so many things in that answer that she's never told him before, never told anyone in Rome before, and she senses when he wants to ask about them all by the slight tightening sensation on her thigh. It relaxes instantly, his index finger drawing circular patterns as the pink fades from her skin.

He doesn't ask about them, though, possibly senses she won't answer that just yet, but he does ask, "How can I make it better?"

"Does that count as two questions?"

He shrugs, lifts his hand to change gears, and then puts it right back on her skin, "You decide."

"No, it doesn't," She doesn't need to mull it over, the easy smile he gives her in return forcing her to drop her eyes to his wrist, dark against the paleness of her thigh, "What makes you think I need you to make it better?"

"Nothing," He answers easily enough, "But just like I want to know all the good stuff, I want to know all the bad too."

He doesn't play music when she's in the car, not normally, but Radiohead's playing quietly through the speakers and the fast pace song doesn't exactly match up with the soft tone he's taken with her. 

"You really want to get to know me, huh?" His finger's drawing his initials on her skin, she's not sure if he's aware of that. 

He doesn't answer, but he does pull over to the side of the road and switch off the engine. Radiohead cuts out, the soft rumbles of the engine quickly following, and Edoardo unbuckles his seat belt so he can turn to face her properly. It's not verbal, but it's answer enough.

"I don't know how you can make it better," Ele says quietly, focusing on the leather at his wrist instead of the steady look in his eyes, "I've never had to think about it."

He's never forced her to think about, never put her in a position where she'd have to. Even when she wasn't sure about whether or not she liked the questions, it wasn't ever on her 'bad things' list. Edoardo was always just there, not labeled in any of her many boxes she organizes everything in, but she's found that recently he's definitely in the good boxes. She likes her boxes organized, neat, and tidy. Nothing's ever in two boxes, but then Edoardo popped up in way too many to count and he's impossible to label into just one. 

"Keep the cookies around," She says finally and he laughs, leaning towards her as he does so and she's drawn right in with him until their temples touch.

"Keep me around?" He asks now, his free hand slipping easily through her hair to cup the back of her neck, "Let me figure out how to make it better?"

"Okay," She doesn't need to think again, and it's not nerve-wracking when it's with him, "But bring the cookies."

"You're so shit at this."

Ele jabs her elbow into his ribs and ignores his choked off laugh, "You're a shit teacher."

"I'm a brilliant teacher," He scoffs, bringing his hands back up to cover hers on the neck of the guitar and settle her fingers over the right strings, "You're just not listening."

"The guitar's stupid anyway," She huffs, falling back against his chest as he strums and the right note rings out. Edoardo chuckles, the movement jostling her slightly before he sets the guitar down next to them. 

"We should clean up," Eleonora sighs, surveying the damage done during the party. There are bottles and cans everywhere, and she's pretty sure Edoardo didn't decide to decorate his front room with dinner plates before the party, yet they're littered around the room now. 

Edoardo hums as he slides his hands across her hips and stomach, tangling around hers on her lap and burying his nose into the curve of her collar, "I'll clean tomorrow. Talk to me."

"About what?"

"What do you value?" He whispers, pressing the words into her skin and flexing his fingers against hers. 

"The most?" She questions, feeling his hum reverberate against her when he doesn't pick up his mouth from where it's sweeping gently against her shoulder with each breath, "The people around me."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Filo," She sighs, sinking further into him as he drags her back so they're lying down, "My friends; Eva, Fede, Sana... Silvia."

It's gotten easier to ignore the gnawing guilt in her stomach whenever she's with Edoardo, even when Silvia had run from the party in tears a few hours ago. Ele knows she should be out there with her, comforting her and not with Edoardo long after everyone had scattered. She can lie and say it's because Eva took her jacket and bag, leaving her stranded with no phone, money, or keys to get home, but she's already lied and told Edoardo that Filo's going to be away all night. There's a logical part of her brain that's telling Ele that Edo's not interested in Silvia, that he's made it stupidly clear countless times, but it can't outspeak the part of her telling her she's a terrible friend for entertaining Edoardo in the game he's playing.

"Stop that," Edoardo whispers, tilting her head with his fingers at her chin so he can knock their foreheads together. The angle's slightly awkward and her back kind of hurts where she's half on him and half on the couch, but he plants a brief kiss to her cheek, and she chooses instead to focus on the soft look he's giving her. He's completely sober now, out of the tipsy state she'd found him in, but it's easier to blame the alcohol than try and figure out what the look means.

"Stop what?"

"Thinking you're betraying Silvia," He murmurs, rearranging them so she's flat on her back on the couch and he's resting on one elbow, his free hand drifting circular motions on her wrist underneath his leather jacket she's wearing, "You're not doing anything wrong. We're not doing anything wrong."

"Since when were we, we?"

"Ele," He sighs, a little less huffy when she lets her fingers curl in the hair at the back of his head and scratch her nails against his scalp, "Do you want to talk about it?"

They've talked about it - or, at least, in their own way. Edoardo's explained to her more times than necessary he's not interested in Silvia, that it's been and done, that Ele's not another Silvia - been more patient with her than she deserves - and Ele's explained her side in the best way she can. 

"We already have," She sighs, "But seriously when did-"

"Shut up," Edoardo groans, falling backward and nudging her with his elbow when she laughs, "Give me my jacket back and get out. I won't be made fun of in my own house."

"You'd leave me stranded at this time of night?" She teases, dodging out of his grip as he starts tugging at his jacket, "How rude- Edo, Edo, stop!" She's laughing, trying to twist out of the way as his fingers dig into her sides. 

And it's so much easier ignoring everything else when Edoardo's laughing in her ear so freely like that.

She can tell she's shivering, can feel his hands tremble against her waist as the rain sinks into their clothes, but he doesn't move too far away from as he walks them to his car, and she's pretty sure she's the one to lean over the middle of their seats and fist her hands back into his hair as their mouths battle against each other again. 

"Let me- wait," Edoardo huffs, grinning around her lips as his fingers fumble to turn on the heating, but then he's right back with her, cupping her cheeks and angling her head just right to deepen the kiss and effectively knock all the breath out of her lungs. His skin's still wet and cold against hers, but his hands are slighter warmer when they ran down to the side of her neck.

"You don't like me, then?" He murmurs, mimicking her rushed stumbling of words from a few moments ago, chuckling as Ele scoffs and nips at his bottom lip, "Come back to mine?"

She nods without even thinking and turns her attention to his bracelets as he drives, "Where did you get these?" She asks once he drops his hand to her thigh and she can wrap her pinky finger through one leather band. It's no different to what they've done before, but this time he flips his hand over hers to slide their fingers together, his palm against the back of her hand, and when he has to shift gears he does so without pulling away from her.

"Some were my dad's," He shrugs, although the grit in his voice is anything but casual, "And some of the others I just picked up along the way. The one you like I got from Paris two years ago."

He squeezes her hand then and sends her a smirk, "Not stealing my questions are you?"

Ele laughs and shakes her head, "I wouldn't dream of it. You got another one for me?"

"Absolutely," He nods, but he doesn't ask it until they're curled up on his couch once more. She's drowning in one of his shirts and sweatpants, as well as the blanket he's covered them both in, but she's possibly the comfiest she's ever been. His legs over hers are a warm weight, and his chest thumbs steadily under her cheek as she scrolls through the TV menu for something to watch. 

"Five-star restaurant or would you rather camp out?"

"Camp-out," She says automatically, tilting her chin up as he cards his fingers through her hair. She knows he's going to ask why - that he's determined to hear all of her stories, so she carries on before he can ask, "When I was little Filo used to make us a blanket fort outside so we could pretend to be camping; but we lived in an apartment and the only place he could set it up was the courtyard, and it was always so creepy at night that we would only last about an hour before we would run back home again."

"Have you ever been camping?" His hip presses uncomfortably into her side as he shuffles, but then he rearranges her to sling one of her thighs over both of his and he feels softer this way.

Ele shakes her head and turns back to the TV, "No, my parents were always busy. I was supposed to go with my Girl Scout troop but pretended to be ill because my dad told me we would use actual tents and not Filo's bedsheets. We're watching Hocus Pocus by the way."

Edo huffs a little, but he doesn't complain when they spend most of the movie making out anyway. 

"I have another question."

Ele hums and buries her head into the pillow underneath her. They didn't close the curtains last night and it's way too bright for any humane conversations right now, but of course, Edoardo's a morning person and doesn't appear affected. He's probably been awake for ages, considering the fact that he's managed to find a shirt and seems to have run a brush through his hair too. There's also a faint smell of lemon tea from somewhere, which helps Ele kick start her brain a little.

"Okay," He rests against one elbow and trails two fingers up and down the curve of her spine over the blankets, "Would you rather learn to surf or ski?"

"Ski," Ele mumbles, leaning further into his body heat and tucking the blanket closer around her, "I already know how to surf."

"Yeah?"

She nods, "My Uncle taught me when I was little, but I don't know how good I'll be now."

The blanket's slipped off of her, and she should really fight against him when he lifts her out of bed and into the cold air but there's no energy in her to do anything but cling onto his neck and let him carry her further towards the smell of lemon tea and warm pastries. 

"I made breakfast," He murmurs against her collar, setting her on top of the counter but making no effort to move further away. Which is fine, he's warm and the kitchen is decidedly less so. 

"Thank you," She whispers before leaning back to shake hair from her face, catching the smirk on his lips before she leans back in to slip a touch of her mouth against the corner of his, "What about you, surf or ski?"

"Surf," He shrugs, tugging a stray hair from where it's caught at her lip, "My mother tried to teach me but the water was always too cold."

"Let me guess, you already know how to ski?" She teases, wincing slightly at the cold press of his fingertips to her bare hip under her shirt.

"Fede's parents took me with them," He rolls his eyes at her muffled snort, "Shut it. Tea?"

Silvia's taken the news pretty well, but Ele sees the slight tense of her shoulders whenever Edoardo's close by and it does absolutely nothing for the gut-wrenching guilt still eating away at her. Edoardo seems to be taking the 'rip the bandaid off' approach, whereas Ele's trying the 'slow but steady' method, which clashes terribly with one another at times like this.

Silvia's preoccupied with the essay on her laptop and batting away Nicco's hand whenever it gets too close to the three pencils tucked behind her ear, so Ele's glad when Silvia doesn't really notice when Edoardo drops into the seat next to Ele and leans over to kiss her soundly.

"Hi," He whispers, kissing away the smile creeping onto her face, "Missed you this morning."

"You drove me here," She huffs, adverting her gaze from her notes in time to catch Fede roll his eyes in their direction. He winks at her when he catches her looking, and mimes an overexaggerated replica of the infamous Edoardo smirk and lip bite, but turns away before Edoardo turns to see what's caught Ele's attention that's not him.

"What you looking at?"

"Nothing," She shakes hair from her face and smiles at him, "What are you doing here anyway? Don't you have a meeting in a few minutes?"

He shrugs and steals her laptop, scrolling down her bullet points, "Wanted to come say hi first."

"Well, hi."

Edo gives her a smile over his shoulder, "Hi. How's your day been?"

"Passed my Chemistry test," She smiles, resting her cheek against his shoulder to supervise as he skims through her notes and adds extra bullet points as he goes. Sana jokes that the only reason she's passing Latin is because Edoardo's a whizz at it, and now that they're a thing she gets all of his notes, and it's only half true. Sana smirks at her now, but doesn't make any comment. 

"Smart girl," Edoardo's saying, saving the document and closing the lid of her laptop altogether, "Lemonade or ice tea?"

"Edo-" Ele huffs, reaching for her laptop only for him to hold it behind his back and out of her reach. It knocks against Silvia's shoulder, who startles out of her typing frenzy. 

She blinks at Edoardo next to her blankly, "Oh... hi."

"Hi," He nods at her, giving her a smile, "Sorry, didn't mean to hit you."

"Oh, no it's okay," She rushes out, and Ele takes advantage of Edo's distraction by lunging forward and snatching the laptop back. 

"No! I asked you a question," He tries to wrangle it back, practically forcing her to lie across the seats in an attempt to get it back, "You're going against the rules, Ele."

"Oh for the love of God," Fede groans, dropping into a seat opposite them and effectively drawing attention from all the girls towards Ele and Edo, "Please don't make him go over the rules again."

"I haven't even said it that much-"

"What rules?" Ele asks, turning to Edoardo who quickly shuts his mouth, "I only know about the list. You have rules?"

"What's going on?" Eva asks, purposely not looking in Fede's direction but directly at Ele who winces when she hears Silvia close her laptop. Now is really not the time to explain that this has been going on for months now, and that she's purposely hidden it from all of her friends in fear of Silvia finding out and feeling betrayed by her behavior.

Edo jumps in, pulling Ele into his side casually and resting back in his chair, "Ele's let me have fourteen questions to ask her and she has to answer them seriously, and yet refuses to not make fun of me for them."

"And you want to know if she prefers lemonade over ice tea?" Sana arches an eyebrow and Edo copies.

"How else am I meant to get to know her, Sana?"

"Why don't you ask me these questions?" Fede pouts, "You've never asked me my cold-drink preferences."

"Asking you isn't going to get my girlfriend to fall in love with me, Fede," Edo says casually, and Ele feels stupidly guilty at the way she kind of swoons before noticing how tense Silvia's suddenly got.

She rolls her eyes instead and jabs her elbow into his side, "Distracting me from my work isn't helping either."

"Fine," Edo huffs, turning to kiss her briefly before he slings his bag over his shoulder and stands up, "See you later?"

"Yep," She nods, already looking back at her Latin essay and the extra notes Edo's given her, "I'll meet you outside. Good luck with your meeting!"

He hums, leaves another kiss to the crown of her head before making his way out with Fede, both of them slightly too loud for the quiet of the library. Silvia's doing a terrible job at sneaking glances at Ele from the corner of her eye, so Ele sighs and turns slightly to look at her, dropping out of the conversation between the others as he watches Silvia chew at her lip before she meets her eyes.

"Are you okay?" Ele asks, nudging their knees together, "I can talk to him if you're not comfortable with-"

"No, no, it's okay," Silvia interrupts, taking a deep breath, "I'm over it, you know? It's just... I don't know, weird? But it'll be fine. Don't start putting limits on it just for my sake."

She turns back to the other girls before Ele can say anything else, but it gives her a moment to study Silvia freely. She seems pretty confident in what she had said, and she does have something going on with Luca at the moment, so Ele knows that most of her words are true. And it is weird. Ele had spent months dragging Edoardo's name through the dirt, spent weeks hiding their relationship from everyone, and now that they're out and open with it all she can understand why it's such a shock to the one girl who Ele was so vocal with. 

"What do you think, Ele?" Eva knocks her from her thoughts, "Thai tonight while it's happening?"

"Sounds great," Ele smiles, not quite sure what she's agreed to.

Once the girls have settled back into their own conversations, Ele feels her phone buzz against her thigh. 

Seriously, lemonade or ice tea? It's from Edoardo, status still online despite being in the meeting that's going to determine his entire college education. Ele rolls her eyes, taps off a quick lemonade message, and shoves her phone deep into her bag so she can concentrate.

They don't talk about his brother, or the police and the aftermath of everything that happened, but he touches her a little more freely now that they're past it all and Ele welcomes each and every one of his small grazes against her as they cook and the way he pulls her in tight as they sleep.

He used to be all about going out, showing her off at parties, or dragging her to different gelato huts, but now he's more than happy to accommodate her need for the quiet some days. Ele thinks it helps him, too. He seems to have come to terms with what's happened because he doesn't look as scared when they're in the comfort of her living room as he does when they're walking down a busy street. 

Filo joins them sometimes, and still eyes Edoardo a little too closely after the greenhouse incident, but the three of them are in a good routine right now, and Ele doesn't so much mind when Filo crashes their movie night. 

"When did we start watching documentaries?" He grunts from his star-fish position on the floor.

Edo sighs, "Since I started paying for Netflix."

"I'm disappointed in you, Incanti," Filo groans, "We had a no-Netflix-rule for a reason. She can't help herself and yet falls asleep every time."

"Next time I'll read the pamphlet then," Edo shrugs, pulling her closer and nestling his cheek against the top of her head. 

"Both of you stop talking," She murmurs a little sleepily, "You both like Marilyn Monroe, so learn something."

The documentary's not really anything special, especially considering her and Edo had fallen asleep to it last night and only put it back on determined to finish it, but it's the principle of getting the smug look on her brother's face wiped off. She's pretty sure if she looked up at her boyfriend he'd have the same look, but she's comfy against his chest and really can't bring her muscles to move. 

"Would you rather live a normal life or would you like to be a celebrity?" Edo asks, once the credits start rolling and it's clear by his snoring that Filo's passed out.

The remote's too far away and since he doesn't make a move for it, Ele continues to stare at the names scrolling on the TV, "I think normal."

"How come?"

She shrugs and turns to plant a gentle kiss to the exposed skin of his collar, "I'm pretty private and you don't get a lot to yourself when you're a celebrity. It would be cool to have a platform like that though. How about you?"

"It sounds cool," Edo slides down the couch, propping one of his thighs between both of hers and rolling them to lie on their sides, "But I couldn't handle being a celebrity."

She mock-gasps and jabs at his chest, "The famous Edoardo Incanti not wanting everyone to know his name? I'm shocked."

"Okay," He laughs, nipping at her bottom lip, "I like the quiet sometimes."

He's liked the quiet more and more since he ran back to her, since he decided not to go anywhere - and sometimes it's a little disconcerting but then she notices that he doesn't have bags under his eyes anymore, and his skin's a little clearer than it used to be, and she thinks that maybe the quiet's doing more for him than she originally thought. Other things have changed too. He falls asleep first now, and wakes up later than she does, and he's not as motivated to get out of his pajamas than before, but he's so much more productive in everything else. 

The quiet's let her study him more; has let her find out that he taps out rhythms on his thigh when his hands are empty, that he never really finishes a cup of coffee and always makes too much tea just in case he wants more later on. He can write with both hands, and he draws little smiley faces in the corner of his pages when he's reading something, and he has a habit of cracking the spines of the books he's reading except for the ones on Ele's nightstand that she's managed to keep in pristine condition. He hesitates when he touches her sometimes, eyes wrecked with the memory of something they'll never really get answers for, but when the hesitation passes he's never been confident in the way his hands move around her. 

"How do you take your coffee?" She whispers now, catching the furrow of his eyebrow. 

"What?"

"Your coffee," She pushes herself to rest on one elbow and flick a curl off his forehead, "How do you take it?"

"Black," He says slowly, still a little confused, "And skimmed milk."

"Summer, rain, or frosty?"

"Summer," He's a little quicker this time, something like recognition in his eyes, "I like it when it's sunny. Everyone's happier in the sun."

"Vanilla or chocolate?"

"Chocolate. These are all my questions," He grins, sliding a hand down to the back of her thigh and pressing her into the back of the couch, "What are you doing?"

"Some of them I don't know the answers too," She shrugs, dropping her arms around his neck, "And I want to get to know you too."

The smile on his face is totally worth the silent admittance to having remembered each and every question he's asked her.

"A day at the pool, or a day at the beach?"

Ele blinks up at him, watching the way the sun catches on his wet curls and illuminates his shoulders. 

"If I say the pool are you going to get upset?"

"No," He shakes his head, "Because I know you're going to be lying."

"Maybe I won't be, maybe I lied about wanting to come to the beach today because you wanted to."

He splashes some water at her and grins as a small wave bops them up and down gently. Neither of them own a surfboard, but Dario's friend does and lent it to them for the day with a promise of payment in Chinese food later tonight, so Edo had packed them up and driven them to the beach early that morning. Late afternoon and they're still there, Edo determined to catch a wave before the sun goes down. 

"You know," Ele sighs, swiveling her head round to take in the orange tint in the sky, "If you weren't a baby you could have actually surfed by now."

"The water was way too cold," He argues, anchoring her wrists to the board as they get bopped again by a passing wave, "You want me to die of hyperthermic shock?"

"I want to eat," She grunts, flexing her fingers and kicking her legs gently in the warm water, "Promise we can leave after this one?"

"Sure," He leans over to kiss her before she slides off the board and dunks her head under the water. He's watching as she resurfaces, smiling softly in the way that he's always done, but this time Ele just smiles back at him instead of shying away from it. 

"You didn't answer my question!" He calls after her once she starts swimming back to the rocks they've left all their stuff on, but she ignores him in favor of clambering up to her towel and watching as he paddles further away from shore to a clearer spot.

She answers him once they're waiting for their Chinese order, hair dripping droplets of salty water down her back and Edoardo's fingers playing with the pockets of her shorts, "The beach," She says, leaning against his chest, "It's so much better than the pool."

"Beaches don't have water slides," He offers, sliding his hands into her back pockets and pressing her against him as someone shuffles past.

"You hate water slides," She murmurs, closing her eyes as she listens to the steady thump of his heartbeat.

"The water gets in my nose and I always have to sneeze," He whines, pinching her as she snorts.

It's not really her and Filo's fault that they lost touch with the majority of their cousins, considering everything that's happened with their parents and each other since Ele moved in with him, but they could have put more effort into reaching out once the wedding invitation came in the mail. It's only a second cousin, one that Ele's never really heard of and is pretty sure only invited them in order to be polite, so they don't feel too bad when they say they can't come. 

Ele has an exam that day anyway and then plans with Edo and the boys to grab dinner to celebrate Fede's birthday, but Edoardo seems pretty concerned about her missing the wedding.

"We can reschedule."

"You can't reschedule Fede's birthday," She calls, scrapping her hair into a messy bun before wandering back into Edo's room where he's reclined back into his pillows, "He'll sue if the attention's not on him."

"Fede can wait, it's your cousin."

"Fede can't wait, he doesn't know how to," Ele sighs, crawling under the covers and accepting the hug he pulls her into, "And it's my second cousin. I think I've only met them like twice."

He hums and doesn't say anything else, but she can hear the cogs in his mind working on overtime. 

"Ask," She groans, pushing away to sit cross-legged in front of him.

"Ask what?"

"I saw your list," She ignores his indignant squark, just bats his hand away when he reaches for his phone, "I only saw two questions, and one of them you already asked anyway. Ask."

"How do you know I want to ask that one?"

"You highlighted it and wrote it out three times," She blinks at him, "And you even know that the last time I saw that cousin I was seven so it fits in. Ask."

"Fine," He huffs, "But the magic's taken away now since I'm forced into it. What's your favourite childhood memory?"

Ele smiles softly, "When I lost my first tooth."

"Why?" Edo asks, taking her hands to play with her fingers.

"My mother told me about the tooth fairy," She starts, following Edo's directions as he drops her hands to cup the back of her thighs and arrange her to sit on top of his hips, his fingers sliding up to play with the hem of her vest, "But my dad told me about Topolino. My mother didn't want me to know about him because Filo was always losing teeth in accidents and stuff, so presents got expensive. And she'd just finished a term teaching in Liverpool, they only have the tooth fairy over there and my mother preferred the idea of only having to give out two euros instead of a doll set. But my dad insisted I get a present too, so when I lost my first tooth after school he took me to the mall and let me pick out anything I wanted."

"What did you get?"

"A new dress for my teddy," She hits at his chest when he chuckles, "Don't laugh! I loved that thing. I used to push it around in this pram the lady next door gave me, and when I got older I would practice my speech homework with him as my audience."

"Did you have tea parties?" Edo teases, sitting up to hug her waist and settle their foreheads together.

"Diplomatic sit-ins," Ele corrects, smiling as Edo lets out a loud laugh, "We solved a lot of issues together."

"I'm sure you did," Edo murmurs against her mouth, "Do you still have him?"

"I think he's somewhere in the storage unit, but there are pictures in Filo's room."

He hums, looking so calm as he closes his eyes and breathes out deeply. 

"What's your favourite memory?" She whispers, raking her nails against his scalp in the way she knows he likes. 

She's rewarded with a breathy groan and Edo tipping his head further back into her hold, but the quirk of his mouth is all the memory he's thinking about, "The last time my mother took me to the beach."

"The last time?"

"Yeah," Edo nods, still looking blissfully relaxed, "She was really sick and Nonna put her on bed rest before the doctors did, but she snuck me out at like midnight when Nonna fell asleep," He chuckles at the memory, holding her a little tighter, "And we had to take the bus because she left her keys in her purse and it was too risky to go back in case Nonna woke up. She was too weak to take the boat out herself so she sat down and talked me through it all. We didn't leave the dock and I nearly crashed into those fancy yachts way more than I should have, but it was nice. I didn't get a lot of time where it was just me and her before she died, but I got a few hours with her then."

"That sounds lovely," Ele whispers, sliding her thumb down to hook around the chain sitting around his neck. It's his mother's engagement ring, she knows, that sits nicely against his chest, but it's his father's chain. Edo rarely speaks about either of his parents, especially his father, but Ele knows that he refuses to take the chain off in a last-ditch attempt to remain close to his long-gone mother and absent father. 

"It was," He swallows roughly, but meets her eyes with so much conviction it jolts her out of the calm lull they'd slipped into, "She would have been so proud of me for bringing you home."

Her cheeks redden without her permission, but she thinks she hides it well by surging forward to kiss him deeply. By the time she pulls away to breathe she's caged underneath him and his cheeks match hers. "My mother would hate you," She whispers, loving the way his chest vibrates with his deep laughs, "Seriously, I definitely would have complained about you. You'd be on the 'no-date' list."

"There's a list?"

"Yeah," She nods, "Except we stopped doing it once I turned fourteen."

"Isn't that the age you should have a list?"

"Do you want me to bring it back? You'll be on top. I'd have to break up with you-"

"No list is good," He interrupts, sealing it with a firm kiss to the corner of her mouth, "Thirteen questions down, Sava, you're stuck with me now."

Ithaca's foggy and yet disgustingly humid, so the task of lugging Edoardo's boxes into the storage unit is quite literally the worst thing Eleonora's ever heard. 

A year in America has done Edoardo well, but he'll be right there with her when she boards the plane back to Italy tomorrow morning and she knows summer in Italy is going to do him so much better. She never would have guessed it but Edoardo Incanti gets seriously homesick, and their clashing timetables really don't help the matter when he gets to speak to everyone else except for her on a near-daily basis.

They'd set aside two hours a week dedicated to Skype, and they're always shooting messages back and forth when they have the time, but the five or six hours in between each text feels like an age when she wakes up to see he'd only gone to bed half an hour before that. Two weeks for Christmas and New Year wasn't enough, and a week for Spring break was even worse, but they get four whole months together now and that's quite literally the best thing Eleanora's ever heard. 

"How much stuff do you even need?" She grumbles, dropping the last box into the unit and setting her hands on her hips, breathing deeply in an attempt to soothe the ache in her shoulders. 

"This will be you next year," Edoardo says distractedly over his shoulder as he sets about making sure no boxes can fall over in the next few months and break whatever's inside, "So remember this when I complain."

"I haven't decided on where I'm going yet," Ele points out, watching the way his shoulders ripple as he moves and the tight indent of his shirt on his waist, "Florence has a much better Chemistry program."

"Everyone knows you won't be able to turn down Harvard," He smirks at her before he shrugs casually and moves to wrap his arms around her shoulders, "But it's completely up to you."

She had decided on Harvard, but then Florence had reviewed her application again and granted her the research course she'd applied for alongside the regular Bio-law classes she'd wanted. It had been so easy to choose one when the educational aspect was greater than the other, but now that it's an even playing field again it's all the much harder. Harvard is only four hours away from Edoardo, from Cornell and movie nights and not having to fall asleep alone on weekends anymore; but Florence is roughly the same distance from her brother and her friends, the support system she's had to rely on with Edoardo so far away. 

"Stop thinking," Edo whispers now, kissing her forehead and rocking them slightly, "You have two more months to figure it out."

"I think I know," She presses into his shoulder. 

And she does. Kind of. Harvard can get her further quicker than Florence, is going to look more impressive when she graduates, has exactly what Ele wants without her having to make new routes to get there. It's an Ivy League and everyone gasps when she tells them she was accepted, always gushes at how well she's done. Harvard hosts her mother as a guest lecturer once a semester, who's already picked out the top three dorms for her to move in to as well as dates for brunches when she's in town. Harvard has a promise of Edoardo every Thursday to Sunday, of studying together and avoiding studying together in favor of making up for lost time. It's getting to be in the same time zone as him once more. 

It's getting the support system she's missed so dearly and craved even more since he left. 

And, sure, Florence has it ups too - it has her father two miles from campus (with a hint at rekindling whatever father-daughter relationship that fizzled out years ago), day trips with her friends, Sana an hour away in Bologna, everyone speaking her native language and being able to eat good Italian food, not whatever the Americans fail miserably at - but the scales aren't exactly tipped in their favor right now. 

"You know," Edoardo sighs, running a hand through his hair, "I have one more question left."

"I'm beginning to think you're not taking this seriously," Ele smirks, twirling the back of his shirt around her finger, "You've definitely asked me questions in the past year."

"I never specified if they were the question, though," He smirks back, "I'm playing smarter, not harder, Sava."

He's not wrong. In the past year, he's not asked a single question on his list, which she'd honestly forgotten about around three months after the last time he asked her. He'd hidden the list a lot better than he had previously done after he found out Fede knew his phone password and kept adding random questions when Edo wasn't looking, but Ele had just thought that he'd accomplished what he was set out to do. 

She's in love with the idiot, despite how determined she was that she would never be stupid enough to fall for him at the beginning, and Edo's already teased her mercilessly about it even though he had said it first. But he's done it. He's succeeded, rubbed it in, probably would have printed it on a tee-shirt if Ele didn't threaten to smack him for his smugness, and no final question ever came around.

He's probably asked her a dozen questions since they started this and definitely knows her like the back of his hand by now, so it's a little shocking that he's still thinking about it.

"Okay," Ele gazes up at him, liking the way his mouth curls into that effortless smile he reserves just for her and how the light from the overhanging lightbulb makes his eyes light up, "Hit me with it."

She'd expected something big and dramatic, not the slightly shuddered inhale he takes and the almost nervous look on his face, "What I really want to know is, can you see yourself with me? Like in the long run? Ten years from now, when you think of what your life is going to be like, where am I?"

It knocks the breath out of her lungs and her arms clench around his middle at the idea of him not being there. "I've not really ever thought about it," She finds herself whispering. And it's true. They've been forced through so much that Eleonora's just learned to enjoy the present, to think about the 'here' and the 'now' and let later take care of itself, and so far it's worked pretty well for them. They think ahead in terms of her college applications; which one of them will travel to the other when they have a break; what they're going to get each other for birthdays and who's supposed to distract Fede from his upcoming exam that time. 

But even before Edoardo came into the picture, before Rome and everything that happened before, Ele had never looked that far forward. She'd known what she wanted as a career, had watched it change countless times before she turned sixteen, but the thought of a long-term boyfriend, of marriage and kids and a mortgage with a white picket fence and maybe a dog had never once been in her plan. She'd always thought that she shouldn't concern herself with them, and then when she moved to Rome she had sworn them all of. Edoardo had wiggled into the very depths of her sealed plan and changed it all around to fit the two of them together, and she's let him do it all without any worry that he would leave it someday.

"I guess I just always thought you'd be there with me," She continues, desperate to wipe the hurt look off of Edoardo's face, and she doesn't really know what words she's saying but they're pouring out anyway, "You're just... just always here, so I just thought you'd be there too. I don't- I can't promise that you will be, and I know you can't either, but we've already done so much with each other... it just makes sense. Doesn't it? That we go the long run together too."

"Does it?" His voice is a little hoarse, eyebrows drawn together but not so concerned anymore.

"Yeah," She whispers, more confident in what she's trying to get out now, "Because you already know my story so far, and I don't want to explain it to anyone else ever again. And I don't want to start my story with you and finish it with someone else. You've... You're such a big part of it, Edo, don't let me write you out of it."

"I get to stay?"

"I want you to stay."

"Even better," He swoops down to kiss her, much more briefly than she cares for, but he only pulls away to carry on talking and what he says is arguably so much better than any kiss, "Because I've thought about it. And you're there. I've never had to question it, or wonder why you always show up there when I think about, or if we're going to make it that far. I just know. We're going to. We're going to make it - even if we have to make it separately and come back together further along, we make it."

"We make it?"

"We were never not going to make it," He smiles, so pure and happy that it clenches at something in her chest in all the right ways, "I love you, Ele, of course, we're going to make it."

"I love you too," She leans up to kiss him, whispers it once more against his mouth.

She only pulls away because he starts laughing and that totally kills the mood, "What?" She demands, feeling a little put-out and quite frankly a little hurt too.

"You love me," He teases, pressing his fingers to her hips, "Eleonora Francessa Sava loves me after swearing she would never."

"Oh, shut up you-"

"You love me," He carries on anyway, tickling her sides and caging her against the wall so she can't wiggle out of his grip, "How embarrassing."

"You said it first!" She cries, trying to stop the tears streaming down her cheeks from how hard her stomach's clenching to keep her laughter at bay, "You said it first and pined over me for a year before I even looked at you!"

"Still," He shrugs, ceasing the tickling to cup her neck in his hands and kiss her lightly, their teeth bumping against each other's awkwardly when they can't stop smiling, "You fell in love with a fuckboy after playing twenty-one questions."

"I want to break up," She deadpans, trying to push her way out of his grip and trying to ignore the fact that she's still grinning away like an absolute fool, "I agreed to date Edoardo but it's clear I'm still stuck with Eduardo and-"

"Shut up and love me, Sava."