When Alessandro brought Ava’s hand close to his lips, he paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on her eyes. In the emerald depths of her eyes, he found a sense of calm and faith. Despite the red fumes of excitement that swirled around her, there was a remarkable serenity in her expression. Gently, he kissed her hand, his lips soft and warm against her skin. Her river of emotional fumes flowing from her hand through Alessandro’s lips, blues and reds, strong and generous.

  “May I accompany you, Ava? Please,” he pleaded. They started walking in the gallery with brief pauses to admire the paintings. Both needed a moment to process the intensity of their first impression of each other. Alessandro broke the silence.

  “Ava, what brings you to Rome?”

  “I’ve been here for a workshop at the Wine Academy. I’m a sommelier. It was last week, though... I mean, the Wine Academy was last week. Then I took a couple of extra days to myself,” Ava said, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink.

  “How exciting! I thought I detected an accent, you're American, am I right?”

  “Yes, from California,” Ava replied with a smile. “Actually, today’s my last day in Rome.”

  Alessandro stopped his slow walk and set his gaze back on Ava. His deep blue eyes studied her face as though he wanted to memorize every detail.

  “That explains the sad vibes,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

  “Is it that so obvious?” Ava smiled. “I confess, I wish I had a couple more days.”

  “And sometimes I wish I were blue, living inside a lamp,” Alessandro smiled back, though the bitterness in his voice didn’t quite match the humor of his words. “Have you had time to explore Rome?”

  “Oh yes, I know Rome very well. This is my third time here. I always stay at the same hotel and visit my favorite spots. I didn’t realize there was a huge art gallery here before.”

  “We opened this gallery with my good friend Carla last year,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t stay in Rome year-round. I’m more of a wanderer.”

  “What do you do in Rome?” Ava asked.

  “I’m a part-time architect, part-time curator, and part-time musician,” Alessandro replied with a playful voice. “For example, tonight I’ll be a musician. I’m covering for a friend’s trio-band. Would you like to come and listen?” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Ava. It was addressing a jazz bar.

  “Well, thanks for the invite, maybe I’ll swing by,” Ava said, tucking the card into her purse. Just then, they heard a woman calling Alessandro’s name, saying something in Italian.

  “My eyes will look for you Ava. Around 10 pm,” he told her, making a hand gesture to the woman calling him, signaling ‘one moment.’

  “No promises, but I’ll try to make it,” Ava replied, concealing her unreasoned disappointment that their conversation was over for the moment.

  Alessandro watched the vibrant swirl of blue and red emotions fade as she walked out the door. He was confident he would see her that night.

  On her way back to her hotel, Ava checked out the “JazzRock” bar on her phone. It seemed like a decent place, not too far from her hotel. She decided to take the long walk back, hoping it would ground her back in her world, but the reflection of Alessandro lingered in her mind.

  Closing her eyes, she let herself revisit the moment he kissed her hand. She didn’t like the fact that she was enchanted by a total stranger. The sweet excitement in her chest was doing its best to hide the bitter thoughts swirling in her mind. She knew something she could not name was off but didn’t let herself focus on it.

  She took her time to relax in the shower and got dressed for the night. Nothing too fancy, just a skirt and a black top. Once ready, she shared the bar’s location with Logan and texted: “Next time, together!”

  A fire creature who lives an eternity,

  I, the loyal Ghull of the Asaha, witnessed captivity.

  I once appeared before a prince, neither hasty, nor leisurely.

  He watched her from behind the curtains, his breath dancing silently.

  His eyes captive, his arms chained,

  In the dungeon of the seven hills, he danced.

  And when the prince danced, what a dance he showed,

  When the prince sighed, what a chest he raised,

  When the prince lied, what a dream he meant…

  It was almost ten, and the night was young when Ava walked into the crowd at the JazzRock. A trio of women musicians were on stage, their melodies filling the room. Ava found a highchair at the bar and ordered a glass of white wine, her gaze drifting over the band. The lead singer’s soft, vanilla-like voice perfectly complemented her cream-colored dress.

  By ten-thirty, Ava had swallowed the last sip of her wine and slipped into her black leather jacket, preparing to leave. She began to wonder if she’d misunderstood the timing or perhaps gotten the address wrong. The confusion and the wait made her question her unreasonable anticipation.

  "Let’s not tell anyone about this failed adventure," she murmured to herself, rifling for cash in the darkness of her black purse under the dim light of the bar. She was almost ready to leave when, suddenly, a silence washed over. Then, the crowd began clapping, signaling the arrival of a new band.

  Ava looked up. And there, in the spotlight, she saw him, Alessandro, cello in hand. Enchanted, she sank back down into her chair, caught in a moment of stillness.

  Cello, violin, and drums. The band played fusion jazz-rock for almost an hour. He was shining on stage, his hair pulled into a bun, a tight black shirt rolled up at the sleeves to reveal his wrists and unbuttoned at the collar to reveal his upper chest. His nails were painted black, and his eyes rimmed with makeup. How can he be so masculine wearing nail polish and eyeliner? Ava wondered.

  The bar crowd cheered for the band’s performance. The musicians thanked the audience before stepping offstage, and soft lounge jazz filled the space as the atmosphere shifted to a more relaxed vibe. People mingled, some already discussing their next destination, while others ordered another round of drinks.

  Ava wasn’t sure if she should leave or wait for him. Would he even come find her? Or had he forgotten he invited her?

  Her eyes met those of a man seated at the far end of the bar. He raised his glass in a small gesture of greeting, but Ava quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t seen him. Then, another man’s voice with a heavy British accent came from her left.

  “Ciao, scusa... Do you speak English?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Ava replied reluctantly, her mind distracted and struggling to process the immediate question from a stranger.

  “That’s great, because I know my Italian’s probably dreadful!” he said, flashing an apologetic smile. “How are you doing tonight?”

  “Not so bad, I guess...” Ava slurred, then quickly added, “I don’t speak Italian either, but I’m actually waiting for a friend, so if you don’t mind...”

  “You know what, love?” he said with a chuckle. “He shouldn’t be making you wait alone for so long.” He gave her a friendly wink. “I’m Charlie.”

  Ava gave a small, polite smile and nodded in agreement.

  Charlie was a cute blonde guy with a bold colorful sense of style. The tentacles of an octopus tattoo snaked down his left arm, spilling out from beneath his red t-shirt and curling around his forearm. He held out his hand for a shake, his grip firm yet friendly. He didn’t seem like the type to give up easily.

  “Don’t ever wait for anyone, love. Life’s too short for that,” he said, his tone light but sincere. “So, do you live here, or are you just visiting?”

  Ava wasn’t sure if she wanted to continue the conversation. Part of her felt like she should just leave, get a good night’s sleep, and forget about the whole evening. The excitement that had bubbled inside her earlier seemed to drain away all at once, leaving her mood heavy and flat.

  “Sorry, Charlie, nice to meet you, but I have to leave now,” Ava said quickly, standing up from the highchair. She grabbed her jacket and began walking toward the door, eager to escape the feeling of tension that had settled in.

  She didn’t look back until she felt a hand, light and gentle, land on her shoulder. The touch froze her in place. She stopped, her pulse quickening, and turned to find Alessandro standing behind her. His eyes locked onto hers with a quiet intensity as his hand slowly moved from her shoulder to her arm, his fingers grazing her skin.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  “Please don’t go yet,” Alessandro pleaded softly.

  Ava paused, feeling the warmth of his hand still resting gently on her arm. Alessandro was hungry for what Ava unknowingly, but willingly, offered. The flow of vivid, swirling colors of emotional fumes radiating from her, moved toward him, dissolving into his body as he inhaled her fumes. Alessandro could taste each of her feelings, her rush of excitement, her uncertainty, and beneath it all, something deeper and stronger. A feeling Alessandro could sense, but one he had never tasted before.

  He held himself back, just for a moment, before gently taking her hand in his. “How about joining me for a walk?” he asked.

  “Well, that’d be nice, I’m craving some fresh air,” Ava agreed without a second thought. She was hungry for the second piece of cake in Alice in Wonderland. They walked through the narrow streets of Trastevere, where people strolled, enjoying the warm Mediterranean spring night.

  “Glad you could make it tonight,” Alessandro said.

  “That was a brilliant performance. You were so charming on stage, with your hands and black nails on a giant cello. How long have you been playing?” Ava asked, as if speaking to an old friend she hadn’t seen in years. Her words were effortless.

  “Oh, thank you for the compliments,” Alessandro said, his smile wide and his dimples deep. “When I was tall enough to hold one, I got a cello. The cello has wisdom. It brings out your fear and sadness, but it replaces them with empowerment and self-confidence.

  “Wow! Such a powerful statement. I never thought of musical instruments that way,” Ava said. “What instrument would you recommend I play if I wanted to learn one?”

  “For sure, you should play the piano,” Alessandro replied without hesitation. “A piano would love your long fingers and delicate shoulders. It would embrace the melancholia in your heart and reveal your secrets.”

  “I don’t have any secrets,” Ava said, shaking her head. “Just a normal California girl, nothing more. Maybe you have some secrets?” she asked with a teasing smile.

  “Everyone has secrets,” Alessandro replied. “Some keep them longer, some shorter.”

  Alessandro was making her dizzy with his words. He was romantically bold in a way that didn’t unsettle Ava. Unlike most people, he didn’t ask about her job or what her plans were for the future. Instead, he asked about her feelings. He wanted to know what made her happy and what made her angry. Each question lingered, making Ava pause before answering. The question about what made her angry was the toughest she’d faced in a long time. How accustomed had she become to controlling her emotions? When was the last time she simply let go?

  “Forgive me,” Alessandro said softly. “Of course, I don’t even know you. But I have this strange feeling about you, something I can’t quite name. I want to get to know you, but here you are... just for tonight. One last night.”

  They paused by the river, the moonlight reflecting on the water. Alessandro took a step closer to Ava.

  “Let this night be for just the two of us,” he continued, his voice low and sincere. “I want to show you the most beautiful private rooftop in all of Rome and share with you the best wine in Italy. Would you come with me?”

  Ava hadn’t expected such a sincere invitation. There was no pressure in his words, only an honest desire to make the most of this first and last night with her. She felt a pull to let herself dive into the unknown and embrace the unpredictable, just for tonight.

  “I’m all in for the best wine,” she answered, the words slipping out before her mind could catch up. Her ears didn’t quite believe what her mouth had just said. A pink cloud of impulse seemed to blur her thoughts, guiding her like a puppeteer. She surrendered and followed Alessandro to the corner of the main street. They hailed a taxi, and as the car pulled away, Ava had no regrets.

  “Tell me, Ava, which one do you like?” Alessandro asked from the back seat of the taxi. “Tiramisu or gelato?”

  “What a tricky question,” Ava giggled. “Both! I have a sweet tooth. My turn: Ocean or mountains?”

  “Ocean?” Alessandro smiled. “I love the sea and the salt in my mouth. You tell me now, white wine or red wine?”

  “Well, an old-school wine enthusiast would say red is the real deal,” Ava said with a playful shrug. “For me, though, a good white might just be as good.”

  “I saw you at the bar, drinking your white,” he said. “I was scared to death you’d leave before my band started.”

  “You made me wait,” Ava said, half serious, half teasing. “You’d better make this up to me.”

  “I will, as if my life depends on it,” he said his smile fading into a strange kind of

  “Seriously, though, what took you so long? I was about to leave.”

  The taxi pulled up to the destination just before Alessandro could respond. His apartment was in an old building tucked on a narrow, cobblestone street. Most of the apartments on the block were charmingly aged, short, colorful buildings with balconies brimming with flowers and large pots of lemon trees.

  They entered the apartment courtyard through a heavy iron door, its panels decorated with iron roses. As they stepped through, a fusion of old-world charm and modern convenience welcomed them. Motion-detecting LED floor lights illuminated their path, casting a soft yellow glow against the worn iron door.

  They passed two concrete lion sculptures standing like silent guardians and walked along a flagstone path bordered by rose bushes, their scent thick and heavy in the spring air. Ava breathed in the perfume of the roses, the sweet fragrance intensifying the pink cloud in her head, gently taking more control.

  The apartment door on the third floor unlocked at Alessandro’s voice command. Inside, the large living room was bathed in the soft glow of the lights, with walls painted a deep olive green. The modern neoclassical design blended classical art with contemporary touches. Two cellos stood side by side in one corner of the room, and Alessandro's grey cat eyed Ava from a distance, her sharp green gaze both curious and cautious.

  While Ava looked around, Alessandro selected a bottle of wine from the wine fridge. He gestured toward the stairs, leading the way to the terrace above. He moved slowly, savoring each moment, and even encouraged the cat to follow them. Ava was surprised when the cat brushed against her leg, a soft and friendly gesture. Everything about Alessandro, and even his cat, felt welcoming, easing her earlier hesitancy. She relaxed, reaching down to gently pet the cat’s head, letting go of the lingering doubts she had about diving into a promise of best wine in Italy.

  The terrace was elevated above the surrounding buildings, offering a sweeping view of the Villa Borghese gardens. It felt like a private oasis, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of honeysuckles and jasmines. Alessandro uncorked the bottle and poured the wine with ease. Ava tasted the red wine, instantly recognizing that it was no ordinary bottle. The yellowed label, worn with age, bore the name of a winery she had never heard of before. Intrigued, she took another gulp and eagerly asked for more.

  “This is some spectacular wine. Do you know the winery?” she asked.

  “I have no idea, to be honest,” Alessandro admitted with a shrug. “My father is a wine enthusiast. I take advantage of his interest to impress women,” he said, flashing a shy smile.

  “I co-own a winery in Paso Robles. Family business. I can tell you this is a very special bottle,” Ava replied.

  “Honestly, I regret not paying more attention to my father’s lectures about wine,” Alessandro chuckled, shaking his head. He continued, talking about growing up with a father who seemed to know everything.

  Ava watched his body language, his hands carefully cradling the wine glass, his fingers moving with the rhythm of his deep voice. Whoever he was, Alessandro wasn’t hiding anything. Here, on his terrace, in his home, he was laying himself bare. If this was to be a one-night affair, it would be an unforgettable one.

  ??

  Her heartbeat pounding, Ava left her wine glass on the table and slowly walked closer to Alessandro. Leaning over him, she kissed him in a sudden move. Alessandro responded by grabbing her arm. He didn’t let her pull away; instead, he stood up to embrace her kiss. His wine-flavored tongue parted Ava’s lips impatiently. As their lips danced in the warmth of their breath, Alessandro pressed his body against hers, holding her waist firmly from behind. Ava shivered as she felt the strength of his arms and the sudden flare of his length making itself strongly awaken with no doubt of dignity, already exploring Ava’s soft belly.

  Alessandro gave Ava a breathless pause from the wet kiss and went down kissing her neck while unbuttoning her blouse, his talented hands dancing with the buttons swift and tender. As Ava’s blouse fell, with a quick motion, he shed his shirt, unveiling the contours of his torso, bronzed, smooth, and defined. He enjoyed Ava’s awed face and naughtily smiled as he took off Ava’s bra freeing her full breasts and aroused pink nipples. Now it was time for Alessandro to swallow with amaze. He wasted no time pulling her back into his arms, leaning down to touch and kiss her breasts, as Ava started moaning heavily.

  Alessandro lifted her into his arms and carried her inside, to the bedroom just off the terrace. He laid her gently on the moonlit bed, then turned on one of the corner lamp. The warm yellow light bathed his tan skin, highlighting every sculpted line as he let his trousers fall to the floor. His underwear struggled to contain his length, the fabric stretched tight and barely holding it inside.

  Ava was drowning in the pleasant surprise of her sight as she playfully threw away the mini skirt she was wearing. Thank God she was wearing a transparent lacy underwear to proudly show herself to this gorgeous man walking on her. Between her legs, her core was throbbing with anticipation of more pleasure, lush and honeyed to welcome the magnitude of that barely wrapped gift.

  Alessandro was in no rush though. His tongue brushed the inner thighs of Ava’s legs all the way to her core. He gently slid the lace underwear down and his tongue stroked her core layers as Ava increased the volume of her moans encouraging him for more. No more patience for waiting, Alessandro finally set his length free of the prison torture and took down his underwear. The mere sight of the massive prison break could make any woman lose control, but Ava held on, for the sheer joy of being fulfilled by such breathtaking beauty.

  But first, she needed to even the playing field. She rolled her body toward Alessandro and held the bottom his length with her one hand, pushing it into her mouth as deep as she could. Now it was time for Alessandro to moan with a painful pleasure. Her strokes into the depths of her mouth were torturing. She knew he would not be able to hold for long, she laid on her back, opening her legs all the way, inviting Alessandro to her honeyed hot core.

  Alessandro slowly pushed himself on Ava, his eyes locked on her half-closed lids and parted lips. Her colors burst from her skin in every shade of deep red and scarlet, the colors of lust and passion, gently flowing toward Alessandro through the connection of their touching skin. He kept his moves strong and hard knowing they were almost ready to fall from the top the screaming roller coaster of pleasure. Ava’s moans could be heard from the other side of Rome as she lost herself satisfied with the delicious magnitude of this beautiful and gentle man.

  Laying on one side of the bed, trying to catch his breath, Alessandro smiled. He was right where he wanted to be and right where he planned to be all along. The longer he touched Ava’s skin, the more he satisfied his emotional hunger. One stone, two birds. It was amazing to be an Ars Pherian. Making love was always fun, but getting soaked in the strong colored emotions of this young and naive woman was what he really wanted. It was a joy to see the colors burst out of Ava’s naked body.

  Ava, on the other side of the bed, looked at her one-night companion. A quiet sadness washed over her heart. He was light as the stars, yet heavy as the full moon. She rested her head on his chest. There were no regrets.

  A creature of fire, I, the loyal Ghull of the Asaha, am sole.

  Sole in the eternal darkness of the universe, I am only.

  Solitary in the matter of the solid creatures, I am unique.

  One in the span of my existence, I am lonely…

  A reach and a touch, I longed.

  I longed for her, I reached.

  When she looked, rainbows colored the sky from east to west.

  When she tasted, a feast kissed her lips on her open mouth.

  When she listened, a symphony danced with a thousand melody.

  When she loved, her heart burst and ached like a dying star.

  Sole and only, unique and lonely...

  Even the gods created their subjects just to be worshiped.