italy ♔ a promise lives within you now

[romanticidal]

♬ mia per sempre - josh groban

WHO || Rafael, Buffy [Closed]
WHAT || After months apart, Rafael and Buffy celebrate the end of his tour with a private trip to Italy
WHERE || Italy
WHEN || /truck drives by, blaring horn
HOW || Actionspam.

It hasn't been an easy few months, but then again, it hasn't been an easy few years. Following the night of the Grammy's, Rafael's returned to his tour, aspiring to use his concerts as a chance to try and warn people of the dangers inherent in listening to Blade and company's music, even at the risk of looking like a crazy person. It wouldn't be the first time the world thought it, alright. Meanwhile, Buffy's been dealing with the fallout of what the Mind Master did to Finnick, and by extension, Myri, trying to be there for her friend in every way she can.  It would be easier for both of them if they had each other to lean on through it all, but they had to rely instead on numerous phone calls and memories of one night that finally offered them both some hope just when everything had started to seem more impossible than ever.

They also had the promise of this to look forward to: a planned trip to Italy that Rafael insisted be just the two of them, once he was finally free again.  He's arranged to meet her at the Galileo Galilei International Airport in Pisa, and when she gets out, there's some Italian chauffeur guys holding a sign that says "Summers".  

Comments

[slay]

[ Hair knotted in a messy bun at the top of her head, Buffy makes her way down the airport ramp, oversized duffel bag hefted in one hand. Ever the light-packer (all that running away that she doesn't remember, probably). She cuts through the crowd, successfully catching sight of the sign (spot 27) and hurrying over through a mass of comically taller bodies. ]

Ah, that's —! [ She makes her way over and smiles. ] That's me. [ It's a wide-eyed, slightly dopey smile, and it flags after a moment. ] … Do you speak English? Summers, Buffy. Is me. — Uh. Wait, hang on. I've got this. [ She wrangles one hand into her purse like she's going for gold in gymnastics. After a moment, she produces an English-Italian phrase book. ]

[behindcloseddoors]

[ he raises one big black eyebrow at her with a hilarious expression of da fuck, before saying: ] Signore Giovanni is ready for you outside, signorina. Do you have baggage to claim?

[slay]

Oh! [ She blinks, slowly stuffing the dictionary back into her purse like nvm then .......... Maybe if she moves it slowly enough, he won't notice she was getting it out. Play it cool. ] That's ... Great! Good. No, this is me. [ She indicates her carry-on and nods. ] Lead on.

[behindcloseddoors]

[ he nods with a very professional air to him, and reaches to take her bag politely. ] This way.

[slay]

[ She looks confused ??? when he tries to take the bag from her and she just waves him off and starts laughing. ] Oh. Hahah, no. [ And then more giggling. Realizing he's, uh, not in on the joke, she awkwardly tapers off and just reaches back to scratch behind her ear. She clears her throat. ] No, I—I'm fine. I've got it. [ And follows after him with her head down. Another successful social interaction with Buffy Summers. ]

[romanticidal]

[ she's led outside to where... a familiar orange corvette is parked against the curb. did you think this chauffeur was like actually gonna drive you around, cuz you were wrong. he does, however, open the trunk for her and insist on loading her suitcase in for her, and then opens the side door. the top is not down, since convertibles are a dangerous game for famous superstars parked out in public.

rafael grins at her from the driver's seat as she gets in, his face lighting up the moment he sees her. ] I think we can take it from here, no? [ he looks past her at the guy, who closes the door and steps away with a little tip of his hat. grinning more widely when it's just the two of them, rafael reaches into his jacket pocket, and pulls out a little something, extending it casually in front of her ] Welcome back to Italia, carina.

[slay]

[ The corvette draws a smile out of her because SURPRISE IT WAS NOT BURNED DOWN WITH HIS HOUSE, YAY. That surprise is what lets her easily hand her suitcase off (it's packed tightly; heavier than one would expect of a carry-on) and climb in. It takes conscious effort to try to subdue her smile, and once the rose comes out, she stops even making the attempt. She gives up on biting her lower lip, lets the grin stretch wide, and takes it from him. ]

Good to be back. [ She brings the rose up to her face, smelling it and settling into the seat. The sigh she exhales is loving and relaxed, as if she's shrugged off the weight of whatever she left back at the castle to shift entirely into this moment. A beat later, she can't help but quip, ] Which after last time, I really never thought I'd say.

[romanticidal]

I would be lying if I did not say that part of this was in hopes of pushing those memories aside with better ones. I could not stand to think that you connected my country to only bad times. [ he moves to put the car in gear, pulling it away from the curb ]

[slay]

There were good times too.

[ She nods her head thoughtfully, reflecting fondly on times that didn't involve Iscariot. And even some of the in-betweens there. ]

But you don't have to twist my arm for more. [ She sets the rose down in her lap, raises her opposite hand to get ready to take his only to realize hE NEEDS HIS HAND TO SHIFT what a tragedy. She takes note and accepts this, then leans to peer out the window. ] Where are you staying these days?

[romanticidal]

You will have to wait and see. [ he cuts her a teasing look, as he steers out into traffic ]

[slay]

Well, aren't you full of surprises.

[ Percentage die say she is so used to Rafael's particular brand of driving psychosis that she barely registers it now. Or maybe she's just too focused on being cheeky. Probably both. ]

[romanticidal]

[ he got a 26 drive check, he'll be fiiiiine ] There are still a few things you do not know about me. [ he glances back at her, adding quickly: ] Nothing bad. I should say this first.

But I thought... it would be nice for you to know these things.

[slay]

"Nothing bad," huh? [ The smile tempers into a raised-eyebrow, teasing look of reproach. ] Well, I already know about the drooling and the snoring, so I guess by comparison ... You're right. Any other surprise is bound to look like a good one. [ It doesn't matter if he really snores/drools or not tbh she would make this claim regardless; you're welcome.

Well, she made it through her teasing with a smug, matter-of-fact smirk, but now that it's over she has to glance out the window to restrain her ridiculously sappy stares. ] Kidding. Sort of. [ More seriously: ] I'm glad that you've got stuff you wanna share.

[romanticidal]

[ he looks mildly horrified for half a second by that, so maybe he doesn't realize it's a joke, but then he moves on, a little more serious ] It is just that... you have known me for so much of your life since you came to this world. So much of all you remember. I've been able to see you go through much of what has made you you, gotten to know the people who mean something to you.

While I-- [ he chuckles a bit, almost awkwardly but it's ridiculously endearing anyway as he reaches one hand up to drag his fingers through the back of his hair, saying with self-deprecating humor: ] -- have... many more years under my belt, for one, years that are a part of who I am. And while you know some of those stories, some of those people, they are often ones that are connected to darker times in my life.

[ he glances over at her, as if to see how she's taking all this ] There have been better times, too.

[slay]

[ It occurs to Buffy for what might be literally

the first time ever

that, being a half-elf, Rafael is older than he looks (wis 15). When he says "many more years," he's using a different scale than hers. So she looks at him with a curious sort of interest, finally pushing through the giggles and butterflies of seeing him again to actually consider that he'd had something particular in mind in inviting her out here. ]

How many years are we talking about exactly? [ Yes, hello, Buffy will take "things you shouldn't have to ask someone you've known for three years" for $500, Alex. Of course, the question is part of an implicit answer—her interest speaks for itself. She'd like to know about those good times, too. ]

[romanticidal]

[ it takes him a second to answer, because he's too busy peering at her out of the corner of his eye as he pretends to be concerned with like traffic signs and shit. finally he says: ] ... Forty three.

[slay]

Forty— [ She blurts out the word before she stops herself, eyes wide, then swallows any further reaction. She can't control her facial expression, even as she forces her lips to stay sealed while she nods and lets it sink in. Eventually, the flat line of her mouth turns downwards into a thoughtful, pursed pout of sorts. ] Wow. That's ... [ A lot of years ? ?? ? ]

Then again, I'm operating on best guess here, so ... [ Like. Who let her into Nightscape ? ? ? She was 20. Anyway, she makes a vague gesture outward with her hands like who's she to fucking talk. But she leans her head back against the head rest and tilts her face in his direction, thoughtful. ] When's your birthday?

[romanticidal]

[ in the most adorable moment ever, he rolled a 2 on his sense motive to interpret her response, notices that little frowny pout, and looks slightly unsettled himself now as he tries to focus on the road while fighting off his own disappointed little frown. ] November eighteenth. [ he seems to debate saying something else, but instead changes his mind to nod towards the fucking beautiful countryside opening before them.] I was born here, actually, in Tuscany.

[slay]

Scorpio. [ She says with some offhand thoughtfulness, like it means something to her. Moving on without missing a beat, she looks out as he indicates the countryside. ] Nice place.

[ She says it all cavalier like it's not the most fucking beautiful countryside she's ever seen in her life. To be fair, she's in a legitimate conflict between staring at the beautiful countryside and staring at

Rafael's face.

The decision doesn't exactly makes itself when, to her, both are captivating. ] January 19th, by the way. [ She looks over at him. ] One of the Knights who knew me before had to tell me, but ... It's one more thing than I knew before. I blew out my first birthday candles this year. [ And then, in case he thought she'd let it go: ] How do you fit forty candles on a cake? [ And at first, she looks genuinely concerned with it, but eventually, a wide smile pulls over her features and she looks at him fondly, giving away the joke. ]

Sorry. Keep going.

[romanticidal]

[ at this point, with traffic thinning out entirely as they drive the long winding roads through the landscape, he spares her a longer look, clearly still unsure how she's actually taking this news, and her question makes him purse his lips together for a moment ] ... I have not actually had a cake in several years, so I would not know.

[ a heavy beat, before he finally says: ] We age differently, you know. Than humans.

[slay]

[ She studies him, then sits up straighter in her seat and emphatically assures him. ] I'm kidding. [ And there's softness in her eyes as she catches his to say it, her expression all light and warmth.

A beat later, she adds matter-of-factly; ] But don't think I didn't notice that you waited until I was trapped in a car with you to break the news that you're totally ancient.

[ Maybe if she had a higher wisdom check, she'd know to not then continue kidding. As it stands, she decides announcing it once seals the deal. ] We should get you a cake this year. I'll figure something out for the candles.

[romanticidal]

[ the assurance does, in fact, seem enough for him honestly, and once she's given it, he smiles at the other comment, relaxing again ] They have candles that just say the number, no?

[slay]

Number candles are for quitters.

[ She says it like she's imparting some kind of age-old wisdom onto him ? ? ? after making fun of him for being way older ergo worldly. Ok, Buffy. ]

Okay. Age differently. So, tell me about Rafael Giovanni in ... [ Her brow furrows. Fuck math honestly. ] What, the '70s? Oh my god, please tell me bell bottoms came to Tuscany and you have pictures.

[romanticidal]

I was a very small child through all the seventies, carina. I do not think high fashion was much a concern of mine. [ he looks really amused though ] My family lived here most of my life, until I was twenty-three or so. Out there, it was easy for my father to keep hidden what he was, what I was, and for fifteen years of my life, I was allowed to be just a child, roaming these hills, getting into mischief... There were other elves who lived very close to us, all the better to help protect each other from discovery. Two of these families had children also - Vittorio, who was of an age with me, and Nellethiel, a full elf who was older than us both - but still young, because of how much slower elves age than even half-elves.

[slay]

[ For a few moments, she looks like she's working very hard to imagine that and loving the mental picture. It's hard to imagine Rafael as any younger than she's known him, but once she works something up, it'S ADORABLE. She gets comfortable leaning against the window and watching the countryside roll by, and it's easy to figure him for running across it with his friends. ]

How's he doing—Vittorio? Have you reached out to him at all?