As I retrieve the keys from my purse, a chill spreads through my fingers, generating goosebumps that travel up to my shoulder. When I turn the doorknob, the door emits a faint creak, disturbing the prevailing silence in the room. Stepping into the open space, the powerful scent of flowers envelops me, and I switch on the lights.
At the top came hanging an inscription "Welcome to my favorite place in Rome."
Bradley scans the room with awe, his eyes filled with curiosity, as he takes in the various hues reflected in his vibrant green eyes. His hands adorned with rings gently caress the fragile petals of the flowers, and he bends down to inhale their fragrance. "Is this your cherished spot?" he inquires, his warm gaze concealed behind his emerald eyes.
.
I nod my head and place my purse down on the counter, "It's the one place that makes me feel like I'm back home," his eyes are on me as I walk around the room, letting my fingers lightly travel over the soft petals, "My grandmother is the one who started my love of flowers. She's the one who inspired me to start my own business. It feels as if I'm closer to her when I'm around flowers in some way."
"Why didn't you stay with her and open a flower shop at home then?"
"She passed away when I was sixteen, " I say sadly, my eyes starting to tear up, "She's the one who told me to follow my dreams and live in Italy."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Bradley says softly.
"It's okay now," I smile while forcing myself to not let the tears fall, "If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be here, living my dream."
Bradley nods his head, picking up a sweet pea and bringing it up to his nose, "I've always loved the way these smell."
With a smile, I appreciate his captivating presence amidst the floral surroundings, his gentle features blending harmoniously with the delicate blooms. "Have you ever painted flowers?" I inquire, curious. He returns the smile, setting the sweet pea aside. As he takes hold of a pink bluebell and twirls it between his fingers, he replies, "Occasionally. I enjoy painting them alongside models." Placing the pink bluebell behind my ear, his fingertips brushing against my skin elicit a shiver down my spine.
My heart races as I think about what the pink bluebells flower stands for, especially the pink ones. I doubt he knows what the meaning of the flower is though. How could he? He's not an expert in flowers. "That's nice," I say, my voice cracking slightly. I clear my throat, feeling my cheeks flush red with embarrassment, "Maybe you could bring one of your models here one day and paint them. If you want to that is."
"Maybe I will," he says before walking past me. I close my eyes as his shoulder brushes mine, the smell of him overwhelming me, "This is a lovely shop by the way. I can see how it's your favorite place."
I hum softly, watching him as he observes the variety of flowers, "Your turn."
"My turn for what?" He asks, turning to look at me with a slightly confused look flashing through his eyes.
"It's your turn to show me your favorite place in Rome."
"Ah," he smiles, "Let's go then. I think you'll like it."
Apparently where we were going was only four blocks away, so the walk there was rather short. The sun was starting to sink lower in the sky, only a third still visible while people were starting to leave their houses to join their friends for a fun night out.
Bradley stops outside of a building and hurriedly unlocks the door, taking my hand and pulling me inside, "Hurry. We have to get there before the sun completely sets," he says as we run up the stairs. Four flights of stairs later, we stop in front of an elegant white door that Bradley opens immediately, "Okay. Keep your eyes closed and open them when I tell you to."
I nod my head and let Bradley guide me through the foreign room. I couldn't help but let small giggles escape my lips as Bradley dragged me behind him, almost tripping over my own feet. Bradley positions me in a certain spot and stands behind me, placing his hand over my closed eyes. I feel his breath on my neck as he places his chin on my shoulder, causing my heart to beat faster and my breathing to quicken.
"Prepare to have your breath taken away," he whispers in my ear, leaving his other hand on my shoulder. He removes his hand and I open my eyes.
"No way," I breath, taking in the scenery that was in front of me.
The city of Rome was laid out in front of me covered in a golden light. Windows reflected the sun and rooftops of buildings seemed to be a pool of golden sunlight. It was stunning the way the sun washed over the city, almost hypnotizing you with its beauty. The people on the ground were completely oblivious to the masterpiece going on around them.
"Bradley. This is incredible," I whisper. I couldn't seem to take my eyes away from it.
"Welcome to my favorite place in Rome," he chuckles, moving away from me and standing beside me. The sunlit up the room we were standing in, washing over the both of us, "This is my apartment and my studio. Welcome to the room where all of my paintings are made."
I finally tear my eyes away from the scenery in front of me to look around the room. The window I was staring out of made up an entire wall of the room. Nothing but white filled the room. A white couch sat in the corner of the square room along with a large white desk. In the middle of the room was an art easel with a canvas-covered up so you couldn't see it.
"Why is this covered up?" I ask Bradley, walking over to it.
"Because I don't want anyone to see it yet," he says quickly, moving in front of me before my fingertips could touch the sheet covering the mysterious canvas.
I smile at him and nod my head, deciding to look around the rest of the room, "It's very cozy in here," I mumble as I observe his wide variety of paint that was lined up neatly on a large table. There were boxes filled with paintbrushes and many other art supplies, all of them organized in a certain way that kept the aesthetic of the room alive.
"I spend a lot of my days here. The view inspires me," he says as he follows me at a distance, letting me take in everything.
"I can see why. It's breathtaking," I walk back over to the window and watch as the sun disappears behind the buildings, causing the golden look of the city to fade away.
His eyes are on me as I look out the window, taking in all of the beauty that was in front of me, "It sure is," he says and I turn my head to look at him. My eyes meet his green ones and suddenly I become speechless. The way that he was looking at me made my hands shake and my heart begin to race.
I clear my throat and quickly look away, feeling all of my senses come back to me the second my eyes leave his.
"Are you hungry?" He asks me after a few moments of silence.
"Starving," I breathe out, finally looking back at him.
"Follow me then. I'll fix us dinner," Bradley smiles and starts walking towards the doorway. I'm close behind him as we leave his studio, walking into a long hallway.
"So you're an artist and a chef," I laugh softly, "How talented."
"Not too talented," He chuckles, glances at me over his shoulder, "I'm afraid the only thing I have to fix is spaghetti."
I smile at him and shake my head, "Spaghetti is completely fine with me."
The walls were decorated with different paintings and a few photos of a woman and two young kids "Who is this?" I ask, stopping at one and touching the cold frame with my fingertips.
"My mum and sister. They still live in England," I nod my head as I look at the three lovely faces in the picture, smiling to myself at how little Bradley was.
"They're very beautiful," I hum as we walk into the kitchen.
"I'll tell them you said so," Bradley smiles at me while he gets out the ingredients to make the spaghetti as I sit down at the island in the middle of the kitchen, "I don't see them much anymore. With me being so far away and all."
I nod my head, understanding how he felt. My parents, along with my other two siblings, still live back home in Florida and we rarely even get to call each other, "Living so far away from home definitely has its ups and downs," I sigh, placing my chin in the palm of my hand.
Bradley nods his head in agreement as he begins the process of making the food, "Can I help you do anything?" I ask him.
"Nope. You can just sit there and enjoy me laboring over our dinner."
I laugh softly and let my eyes roam around his kitchen. It was a fairly simple kitchen, nothing too special. I think that's what I liked about it though. It had its own way of being elegant and sleek.
The rest of his apartment probably looked the same, but I could help but wonder if he had each room decorated a certain way. His studio was stunning. I could spend all day in there reading and looking at the view.
"Shit," Bradley mumbles, shaking his head.
"What happened?" I ask, getting up to stand beside him. A small laugh leaves my mouth as I look at the burnt meat in the pan. The sauce was also starting to burn and Bradley quickly turned the heat off, shaking his head slightly while tossing the meat and sauce in the trash.
"Well there goes dinner," he sighs and turns to me, "What do we do now?"
"I'm perfectly fine with takeaway," I smile.
"Pasta?"
"Pasta."