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]

[ vaguely good dreams carry them into the next morning, where they share breakfast with the rossis, casting each other small smiles across the table as they chat breezily about things that don't involve the fate of the world.

rafael has more presents hidden up his sleeve for them all, which he deliver afterward, and they take their leave after warm goodbyes, nell and giorgio both promising buffy she is always welcome back, and nell giving rafael a knowing smile as they load back into the car.

where they're off to, he still hasn't said, but they've been driving for a couple hours at least ]

[slay]

[ In that time, Buffy has taken to periodically trying to guess where they're going like it's a game of 20 questions. The most annoying game of 20 questions ever. It's all in a pleasantly breezy voice that seems to believe that being in a car with him for hours is equally enjoyable to wherever it is that car is going. She's easy to please. ]

Is iiiiiiit by a beach? [ She asks, lolling her head back in his direction, eyebrows raised. ]

[romanticidal]

Of sorts. Not the sort you are thinking.

[slay]

Now I'm really interested. How many sorts of beaches are there?

[ Her eyebrows knit together, a perplexed look settling in over her face as she tries to imagine what that can even mean. ]

Come onnnn. We've been driving forever. If it's gonna take a million years to get there, you have to at least give me a hint.

[romanticidal]

I think the signs will be doing this for me, very soon. [ OH LOOK A GIANT BRIDGE, and they are driving across a sudden body of water ]

[slay]

Ooh!

[ She sits forward, leaning up against the window to look out at the water as they race across it. With it established that they're close, she starts keeping an eye out for signs (spot 39). For all her impatient bouncing and needling, excitement hums visibly in every inch of her. She might try to wheedle the answer out of him, but the surprise and uncertainty is at least half her joy. ]

[romanticidal]

[ dinner is amazing, the food perfect, and rafael seems just as content to casually flirt his way through each course, every bit invested in apparently crafting her the perfect romantic evening. he tells her stories from the tour, about dealing with burt, fans, the crazy security measures, things he left out of his phone calls. conversation is easy and natural, and it's afterward that he mentions that he's bought them tickets to a show at the same venue where they first met. as they approach, he looks up at the building with a nostalgic grin ] It has been too long since I last saw this place.

[slay]

All arena blowouts for you lately, huh? [ She nudges him gently as she teases, eyes scanning over the entrance of the theater, and then settling on the people that mill about it. ] Not having to sneak in really adds to the experience. [ A glance over at him. ] You're not afraid I'll leave you to run up on stage and woo the next Italian Idol?

[romanticidal]

Well, if I was not before, perhaps I am now. [ goes to turn in their tickets, and then gestures her in ahead of him ]

[slay]

I'm sure it'll be fine. I mean, the chances of him having better hair than you are ... [ As she passes him and heads inside, she shakes her head. ] Remote at best. [ From the familiar interior, she has no problem making her way towards the theater seating. ]

[romanticidal]

[ he raises one eyebrow as he follows, very amused ] ... I did not realize you felt so strongly about my hair.

[slay]

[ With the shyest of smiles, Buffy remarks plainly, ] I feel strongly about every part of you.

[romanticidal]

[ buffy's awoken eventually from where she's been drifting through vaguely pleasant dreams to the sounds of shuffling not far from her. when her lashes peel open, she'd see rafael getting dressed on the other side of the bed, a black button down shirt still hanging open as he threads a belt through the loops of his pants, his back to her. he reaches into the suitcase and draws out a pair of holsters, runs his thumb across the leather of them thoughtfully - still doesn't notice she's awake. ]

[slay]

[ The sound stirs her awake slowly, and she shifts around to try and recover the comfort of sleep. Reaching one hand out to his side of the bed, eyes still closed, it occurs to her he's moved, and that's when her eyes open to seek him out across the room. ]

Morning. [ She mumbles the words, still groggily shaking off the last vestiges of sleep. Pushing herself up to sit on the bed, she collects the sheet around her chest with one hand, yawning. ] Clothes time already?

[romanticidal]

[ his head swivels towards her at the sound of her voice, eyebrows raised for a moment in surprise, but it melts quickly into a soft, chagrined smile. ] Only because you looked so peaceful, carina. I could not dream of disturbing you. [ he lets the holster slip back from his hand into the suitcase, moving back towards the bed as he fastens his belt, and then slides onto the opposite side of the mattress, leaning across towards her, and reaching for her hand. ] I thought I might bring some breakfast up, before you woke.

[slay]

Mmm, you're sweet.

[ She curls her fingers in his, taking careful measure of how their hands fit together. Satisfied, she lifts her gaze to him. ]

And you were gonna arm yourself? Planning on getting breakfast from the French Revolution with the rest of the L'ABC?

[ A poignant raise of her eyebrows leads her gaze over his shoulder, to fix on his suitcase. In case he thought she wasn't going to ask about the fondling of his holster. ]

[romanticidal]

You caught that, did you? [ he chuckles, supremely amused, and drops a light kiss on her hand briefly ] Maybe I am just looking forward to these new arrivals of mine, hmm? [ the guns, he's not trying to say that he got you pregnant, buffy. probably. more seriously, though, he adds: ] And I was thinking of what it would mean, to wear them again. [ he drops his gaze, tilting his head, contemplative ] Of how things might be different.

How I would like them to be different.

[slay]

[ She scoots steadily to the edge of the bed beside him, waking up for deep existential weapons talk at whatever AM. Honestly, she doesn't even know what time it is, and she doesn't much care. Disentangling her hand from his, she sets about buttoning up his shirt, all thoughtful precision as she answers. ]

Tell me about it. [ If it's plaguing him enough for him to be romantically stroking his holster, it'd probably help him to think out loud. ]