knightsoflegend | italy ♔ a promise lives within you now

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italy ♔ a promise lives within you now

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".

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Then I think there is a gondola with our name on it. [ his hand slides back down her cheek, his thumb brushing against her lower lip as he smiles slightly. ] Come on.

Pull my leg, why don'tcha.

[ Her smile quirks into something bubblier, and she breaks away first to head back inside the hotel room. ]

You know, I've been here twice and I still haven't seen Piazza San Marco. What's all the fuss about?

If you wish to know, we must stop there after dark, not before. If you wish to see it, you must see it at its best.

[ they move towards the doors, back out into the hallway ] Trust me.

I always do.

[ Said with steady certainty as they sweep into the elevator. ]

So what about you? You're off the tour leash. What's next for Rafael Giovanni? Battling the forces of evil notwithstanding.

Do you mean in the near future, or far?

Well, I'm not sure I'm quite ready to get far future levels of existential yet. You might have noticed, but me and planning ahead aren't the bestest of friends.

[ She crinkles her nose, faintly amused as she course corrects. ]

Near, ish. Charming Italian getaway's a nice short-term, but the hotel's a sure sign that Venice isn't an indefinite plan. [ Looking up at him, she seems genuinely curious. Magic guns are a good cue he's gonna be fighting the good fight with them, but there's all that squishy in-between time Des seems set on monopolizing upon. ] More NOVA publicity stuff?

I was hoping... I might be able to take a break from NOVA, for some time. Perhaps it is doing some good - I must believe that - but I still feel as though I could do better elsewhere.

Helping you all.

You mean coming back to London?

[ She's shy in how she asks it, trying to sound like she's not married to the idea or lifting any untoward hopes. ]

[ he moves into the elevator after her, hand reaching for the button as he glances down at her ] ... If you would have me there.

[ For a moment, she studies him, mulling over some mental scenario. She controls the visceral, automatic response, biting it back— I want you there. That's what she wants to hurry out. Instead, she simply nods. ]

I might have a drawer I could clean out. [ It occurs to her briefly that maybe she should have offered a squire room instead but ahahahaha let's not fool ourselves. ]

[ hahaha he looks at her with maybe some surprise, but he doesn't look offput either. he looks down, smirks, and then says: ] Would Wynn mind? I cannot imagine he would, after how long Des stayed there.

[ After taking a beat to note his reaction, she shrugs one shoulder. ] Well, he's been collecting orphan teenagers like his name's Bruce Wayne, so I have a hard time imagining him digging his heels in on your account. I'll call him before we get in to make sure, but we don't so much turn away good help. [ Which is carefully said since lol he turned down Rafael's knight application. Des, though, has never been a knight, always 'help,' and has always had a welcome space at the castle, as Raf says. ]

I would appreciate this. [ the doors open, and they head out of the lobby. he gets a few looks on the street, and pulls out a pair of sunglasses as they walk. just in case. ] Otherwise, I could get a place in London, I suppose.

It's not too far to drive. Before he opted for the lovenest in Manhattan, Des liked to stay at a hotel in town. Helped his fear of commitment, I think. The Holly House. Anyway, it wasn't bad, going back and forth.

It is something to keep in mind, then. We will figure something out. [ you thought he was pulling your leg about a gondola ride, buffy, but no he's really not, and as he makes his way down towards the river, she'd figure that out fast ]

Totally. Lots of options, we've got —

[ She pauses as they approach the river, glancing around and getting her bearings instead of just staring at Rafael with gooey romance eyes for a change. Her brow furrows. ]

Wait. [ Then she picks up after him again. ] Gondola for real?

I will be on my best behavior. You have my word.

Your best behavior's exactly what I'm worried about. I've seen best behavior. Best behavior is showboaty and charming.

[ But even as she teases him, a grin starts. ]

I think you do not mind so much as you say. [ he smirks at her and then heads down to pay the gondolier, stepping inside so that he can hold out a hand to help her in ]

Or maybe it's just that, all things considered, it's not that surprising. [ Reminiscing with Nell last night has her first trip to Italy on the brain, and he was certainly something of a showoff then too, pulling them on stage and racing her around in his corvette.

Taking his hand, she descends into the boat carefully. It sways with her poorly placed steps, but she's good once she settles down to sit, holding onto him the whole time. ]

[ ♬ at the beginning - richard marx and donna lewis

the gondolier pushes off, and the sound of the oar slicing through the steady lap of water is the only immediate sound for a bit as rafael settles in beside her, slinging one arm around her shoulders, and offering her a warm smile, before they find themselves traveling down the grand canal, past other boats and couples and families, past those walking the waterside, the old, historic buildings flanking them on either side, flower boxes in bloom.

maybe blessedly, their gondolier is not a singer, which means after awhile, rafael breaks the pleasant silence to say, his words both amused and deeply thoughtful: ] You know, the last time we did such a thing, think of how little we really knew of each other.

[ Watching as buildings glide past, she leans into Rafael's side comfortably. She seems to drift into drift into the past with him for a few moments, nostalgia written all over her face as she turns to grin up at him. ]

You were the mission. I was supposed to be getting information. [ She admits, chuckling at her own ineptitude. Her eyes flick back to the buildings flanking them and she swats at his chest lightly ] God, do you remember— I made us get off early because Dumage. [ It's not the same restaurant, but there is one she can point to with a visible patio. ] I spotted her up on one of the balconies, and I thought … I don't know what I thought. I must have seemed psychotic, but you just … [ She shakes her head, failing to articulate. ]

You seemed... exciting. And a little psychotic perhaps, but who was I to judge such a thing? [ he winks over at her, grinning widely ]

This coming from the lunatic who invited his stage-rushing fans over for dinner. I thought Isabella was gonna murder you. [ A beat later, she adds, ] Which only seems like a more and more plausible assumption, the more I got to know you two.

Never over dinner, carina. We are not heathens.

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