Chapter 14

"So, when are Giulio and I getting that wedding invite?" Orazio asked, snapping his gloves on.

"I'm not even dating anyone! For God's sake, doc," Silvestro huffed, feeling hands touch her back and apply pressure.

"I'm just asking; I'm not getting any younger, you know?" he chuckled warmly, tilting his head back as he examined how the scarring had faded. "You're healing up nicely, not too long now."

"Great, then I can get rid of the bandages. God, they get so itchy," the woman tugged on her shirt again and sighed as he stretched and rolled her shoulders, face pinching as her back ached. "Ugh, I'm going to need to go to a chiropractor at this rate. Or maybe some sort of massage salon, my back is killing me."

"I'm not surprised, the weight of your body has been distributed unevenly. I can look up some locations in the phone book if you need?"

"Yeah," she sighed, digging her thumb into her lower back. "That'd be great, thanks."

"No problem. Giulio's been keeping a catalogue of the antique rings in his shop for you; for down the road, of course."

"Doc," Silvestro whined, "come on!"

"I want vicarious grandkids!" The GP complained in response, copying her tone and leaving the woman snorting.

The ex-militant pouted and leant against the wall as she listened to the scratchings of his ballpoint pen, foot kicking absently in restlessness. She murmured to herself, trying to remember if she needed to grab anything before she returned home.

"Here, these are the closest places. They should do fine enough, though you'll have to book appointments since they don't take walk-ins," the doctor hummed, handing the larger woman a slip of paper.

"Your handwriting's still wonky as hell. You're gonna kill someone at this rate," she grunted, before yelping as a ruler whacked her bicep. "Ow! Ow, bloody fuc- Stop! Fine, I'm leaving, jeez!"

"Remember to book your next appointment with Julieanne!" He shouted after her, the secretary lifting her head at the shout of her name.

The little woman smiled politely as Silvestro came to loom over the counter, a gleam of residual amusement in her mahogany as she sighed out that she needed to sign in another three weeks from now.

"Of course, would the 13th of March do? Around 1pm?"

"Yeah, that'll work."

"Wonderful, see you then Ms Russ."

Silvestro nodded to her before taking a card with the appointment scrawled on it and made her way out to the street. She huffed a breath before melding with the crowd, intent on grabbing something to snack on for the walk home.

The bakery was warm and overflowing with the scent of bread as she picked out a bun and took it with her, paper bag tucked in her fist as she navigated cobblestone paths and came to a pause at the bench that had been stripped of its once hideous yellow. The woman quirked her lips before sitting down, flowering weeds brushing her ankles as she sank her teeth into fresh bread and spices happily. My Love by Petula Clark was playing from an open window and left the woman humming as she tapped her foot, only half paying attention to her surroundings.

Then the sudden feeling of being watched made her spine shiver within her flesh, eyes widening as she sat up and strained her ears. Her feet were pressed flat against the earth, legs vibrating in their stillness, ready to propel her off of the bench. She glanced over her shoulder and sucked on the back of her teeth as she registered someone bending over the bench behind her.

The sudden presence, coupled with a face that was paused in a decidedly playful smile, made Silvestro tense before the being let out a laugh that was smooth as velvet and tilted their body to incline towards her.

"Good morning, bella. And how are you today?" The stringbean of a man greeted warmly, amused by her reaction.

"The fuck!?" She shouted, glaring at him as she calmed down. "Where in the fresh hell did you come from?"

"I've been here this whole time," he laughed, leaning against the rounded back of the bench. "I was just admiring the Spring when you came along and changed the scene from beautiful to sublime."

Silvestro quirked a brow at him, her nose scrunched to show she was unconvinced before she stuffed a chunk of bread into her mouth and turned back to the front. The groan of the bench made her ears prick, residue adrenaline buzzing in her fingers and making her alert as the man sat down beside her, less than an arm's length away; an easy gap to close for either party.

"So, will you answer my question now that your curiosity has been satisfied? How are you, bella?" He asked with a smile, crossing his knees and draping his arm over the back of their seat, angling his chest towards her in mostly open body language.

"Fine," she responded shortly, "And you?"

"Better now that you're here," he hummed, leaning slightly to shrink the space.

"Uh-huh, whatever you say, Stringbean."

They settled into a silence that allowed Silvestro to focus on the birds who were dive-bombing each other in the trees, competitions of survival allowing them to spin through branches and duck under leaves. She relaxed into the warm wooden bench and watched lazily, taking in their acrobatics - trying to ignore how the strange man shuffled closer; a millimetre every other moment.

"So, bella, tell me, have you seen the new exhibit at the art museum? I hear it's fascinating, very enjoyable for a wide array of audiences!" He cooed, inclining his head in a manner that made the curls of his sideburns bob distractingly.

"Yeah, Amelia and I went yesterday after work. It was nice; but I've never been very good at appreciating 'fine art'," Silvestro hummed, sinking her teeth into the bun again and tearing off a chunk to chew in contentment. "You should go though, you seem like someone who would like it."

The man's smile twitched, either to extend or to retract neither knew but he didn't take long to gather his troops and rest his chin on his palm.

"Ah, but it'd be so much better with company! Why not go with me? If you already know the exhibit, perhaps you could guide me around and show me your favourites?"

"Mm," she breathed quirking her head. "I thought it seemed more like a place to wander, rather than have an A-to-B destination. You'd probably want to take your time."

He remained in his position, seemingly to buffer in a moment of loss, brain making connections slower than he was used to as he was once again turned away. Oh, this was going to be a trek - but the scenery will be to die for.

"Then, there's an excellent new restaurant opening uptown that I've heard rumour of through the grapevine. Waterside views, glass roof to view the night sky. It's very fashionable and contemporary," he suggested, presenting the idea to the woman who chewed through her once-a-week splurge she allowed herself.

"Sounds expensive," Silvestro grunted, flicking a couple of crumbs at the sparrows who wandered over. "Not my kind of place, gotta admit."

He looked a bit dead inside, before making himself smile more and shuffled just the slightest bit closer.

"Well, do you like dancing?"

"Two left feet, buddy," she laughed, tossing her head back a bit as she let out the sound, strangely at ease at the moment. "I do believe my friends in school called it 'the beached whale'!"

"Anyone ever tried to teach you? I wouldn't mind trying my hand, all I would need is an evening together," he offered suggestively, lips curling in the corners in just the way that would allure women from all corners of the world.

"Yeah, plenty. My mum tried getting me a dancing coach; he deemed me a lost cause after three weeks," the woman snickered, biting down again. "Not much my thing, anyway. I've always been too inclined to brute force."

The man couldn't deny that - in fact, he could only attest to the claim, his pelvis having near damn been removed from its position in his skeleton upon their first meeting. So he took a breath and fiddled with his fingers, deciding to take another route.

"Well..." the lanky man tried again, showing a mask of vulnerability. "What about...A movie? Do you go to the pictures often?"

Silvestro hummed to herself, as if trying to remember something.

"Not for a while, but I can never really find something that interests me enough to bother spending money on. "

Fedora man latched onto that comment, his head coming to tilt as he tongued at the roof of his mouth, deliberating his lines.

"Well, what about 'Le Spie Amano I Fiori'? It came out only recently...We could - could go together if you'd like?" Came another gentle suggestion as the woman continued to sprinkle crumbs from the growing flock of sparrows.

There was another moment of silence before Silvestro wiped the last of the grains from her hand and frowned off at the distance, larger pigeons having joined the mass at their feet and cooing in their delight of an easy meal.

"I think I saw the poster for that movie," she breathed, making the man perk up. "Wasn't the woman tied and gagged while her dress kinda just hung off her?" The woman scratched her nape, her face pinching a bit in open dislike. "Yeah, I don't really think I'd like that kind of movie."

While she wasn't looking, the man wilted like a dead flower, a sigh escaping him silently as he tried to find something that would spark interest in the person across from him. He nibbled at his lip and watched as she began to collect her bag, folding it in her lap and standing.

"Well, I better get home. It was nice talking to yo-"

"Wait just a moment, Ms Russ!" he blurted, nails sinking into the wooden panelling of the bench. The surrounding birds scattered at the raise of his voice, something Darwinian in them aware of the chance of danger.

"Ah...this did not go as planned it would seem," he uttered aloud, the brim of his fedora tilted downward and shadowing his expression. "Subtlety doest seem to work with you, so I'll have to be blunt..."

Silvestro shifted in her seat, very aware of how the man's jaw had grown tense. If anyone had been watching their interaction from afar, it would seem they were having a normal conversation, but up close they would have seen how both participants were coiled and ready to bolt.

"Would you be against going on a date with me?"

The ears which peaked from under the man's fedora were tinted a soft pink. The shade crept down his nape, and he shifted his head slightly, peeking out from under the brim of his yellow-banded hat to the Russ woman across who had yet to utter a noise.

Silvestro was visibly stunned; eyes wide and silent as she stared at the waiting man. She blinked once, then twice, and slowly raised her hand to point dumbly at herself, eyebrow quirking if only from muscle memory.

"Yes, you," the man insisted, turning in his seat to face her more, unravelling from his original curl.

"But why?" Silvestro stressed, lowering her hand to wave it at him. "Eh!?"

"Because I want to, and because I like spending time with you, bella," he answered, leaning forward slightly in a manner that conveyed sincerity.

The ex-militant rubbed her nape and glanced around, trying to comprehend the situation, something akin to turbulence and nervousness bubbling in her stomach as she was met with a rather abrupt scenario. Her lip came to be gnawed on, skin peeling between her teeth as she thought on it, the doctor Orazio's words echoing in her head and urging her on.

She always went on about wanting a family, but rarely did she ever take those first foundational steps towards the dream. It was either her picky nature, or her desire for monotony and consistency that led her back to square one; relationships short, brief dates never straying far from the barracks.

Silvestro glanced at the lanky man who popped in and out of existence seemingly at will, too many names and yet none all at the same time. He wasn't going to be consistent with her; he was not going to be an easy road.

"Yeah," Silvestro uttered after a moment, letting her lips flirt with a nervous smile. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

Maybe it was time to walk another no-man's-land?

The way his face both brightened and closed off in the same moment made her squeeze her nape, but she turned her focus on his rattling of times and locations rather than the second-guessing voice deep in her head.

"So, you're okay for Saturday night?" He asked, looking up at her with a kind of contagious excitement that made her skin buzz. "Does five-thirty sound good to you?"

"Yeah, that's fine. Should I meet you at the square?" She hummed, forcing herself to lower her hand to her side; but it felt awkward just hanging here and so began to wander from her pocket and then to her hip. "Should I be wearing something in particular?"

"Oh, but bella, it would only be polite if I were to collect you from your door! Having you walk to the town square when I should be pampering you beyond compare; an atrocity! All I ask is that you wear something nice, for I will be reserving us a table at the best restaurant I know for the evening."

"Oh no, I hope you don't plan on spendin' a whole bunch," Silvestro grimace, only to be waved off by the man.

"Leave the details to me, my darling, and just enjoy it."

Leaving the details to him is what worries her, she thought, but submitted to his wishes with a shrug.

"I guess...I'll be seeing you then," the woman laughed out, scratching the MediSil patch on her cheek.

"Yes, I'll see you on Saturday - five-thirty sharp," the strange stringbean smiled, tipping his hat's brim to her, before gliding out of sight.

Silvestro thought he had a certain spring in his step; she didn't know if that was a cause for concern or not.