Pitter Patter

Xavier, who was now Giovanni turned slowly, a cigarette still in his mouth. He had taken off the mask and wig that represented Xavier's face. Despite his casual attire of a beige T-shirt and baggy joggers, Alessia recognized him immediately.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You look a bit like my boss," Alessia said with a nervous laugh, walking towards him with a smile. "It's good to see you again. I really appreciate your kindness and apologize for the other night. My name is Alessia." She said with an outstretched hand, thankful she came back.

"I'll take your apology and appreciation if you buy me a meal." he replied, taking the handshake.

"Sure, I haven't eaten anyway. Is there a restaurant close by?"

"Yes, there's one across the street."

"You still haven't introduced yourself."

He turned to face her properly. "I'm Giovanni."

"Giovanni," Alessia repeated to herself, studying his dainty features once more. "It suits you," she said with a smile.

"It's been a long time since I heard a compliment. That made my year."

"You're joking, right? I bet women compliment you every step you take."

"Maybe they don't see what you see then."

Alessia's stomach growled, and she bit her lip in embarrassment.

Seeing her discomfort, Giovanni chuckled.

They arrived at the restaurant across the street. Warm greetings and polite smiles welcomed them into the dimly lit restaurant. Candles glowed in stands on the walls and in hurricane vases, complementing the soft chandelier lighting. Bouquets adorned each table, and the soothing melody of a piano gave a relaxing ambiance.

"This should be a popular restaurant. Why is it empty?" Alessia wondered aloud, handing her coat to a waiter.

"Maybe people aren't as hungry."

Alessia gave a pout, knowing he was referring to her stomach rumble. "Where would you like to sit?"

"By the window. It's going to rain soon." She squealed, her eyes sparkled with mirth as she walked to a table near the floor-length window. She picked up the bouquet and turned to Giovanni. "See, it's yellow roses."

"What does that mean?"

"Friendship," she replied, offering the bouquet to him. "Here, have it."

"You should be the one getting the flowers."

"Who made those rules? You're the one who looks like you're made of flowers. Have it," she insisted, stuffing it into his arm.

After telling Thomas to have the meeting at 36, Giovanni had called the restaurant to cancel all reservations. He had wanted to give her flowers but couldn't just stand at the terrace with a bouquet. This, he thought, was a fortunate compromise, he earned this bouquet.

The waiters gently placed a full-course meal on the table, from appetizers to side dishes. Alessia inhaled the scent of the tortellini, her favorite dish. The rich, creamy sauce covered pasta stuffed with beef and scallops, topped with an edible gold leaf. Alessia looked at the table before her and bit her lip, it would cost a lot of money, which she doesn't particularly have at the moment, but she already offered to buy him a meal.

"This doesn't count for the meal you're getting me. I'll keep my coupon for another time."

"Oh, that's fine by me," Alessia mumbled. She promised herself that when she made more money, she would take him to a restaurant like this.

As she reached for the wine, memories from the hotel flashed before her eyes. She opted for a glass of water instead.

"Don't mind me. A glass won't make you drunk."

"It's better if I don't drink at all."

Giovanni gazed at the blonde woman before him. "If you're really my friend, then don't die," she had told him 15 years ago. Those words had kept him alive for the decade that followed. Even though he knew she wouldn't remember or recognize him anymore, he still kept his promise.

She motioned for him to eat, as he didn't eat while listening to her talk. After their meal, they enjoyed Panna Cotta with mixed berries for dessert as the rain began to drizzle.

"Hmm, this is more like it," Alessia murmured, looking up at the sky.

"Do you also love the rain?"

"Yes, it's lovely."

Heck, he lied. He hated the rain, it reminded him of the accidents and the mortal fights he had to survive under the merciless downpour, but with Alessia in the scene, it felt like the most peaceful moment he had experienced in a long time. Following her dreamy gaze, he looked at the tiny drops of rains chase after each other on the window, people walking with umbrellas of different shapes and sizes and cars moving slowly.

"So, what do you love to do?"

"Work."

"What work?"

"Business."

"What industry?"

"Food and jewelry."

"That's wonderful. Survival and luxury are two driving forces of buying."

"Very correct."

"I work in the tech industry. What do you do after work?"

"I rest."

"Oh my God, you're so boring," Alessia chuckled.

Giovanni's heart melted at her laugh. "I'll keep this going until I can't anymore," he swore to himself.

"Do you have a favorite food?"

"Pasta."

"Everyone likes pasta. Let me guess your favorite color."

'His favourite colour?'Giovanni thought as he chuckled. The last time he was aware of the concept of colours was when his mother used to take him for shopping, 2 decades ago.

"Pale blue," she said, making a camera gesture with her hand, like she was trying to picture him in a blue outfit.

"You're right, I love pale blue." He had no idea that pale blue was a colour until seconds ago but he knew he'll never ever look that that colour the same.

"Don't you have any questions for me?" Alessia had been trying to keep the conversation going, because all he ever did was stare at her, listening almost too intently.

"Well, I'll keep my questions until next time. It's quite late."

She checked her wristwatch. It was half past nine.

"Yes, it is."

As they left the restaurant, the waiter offered them an umbrella. Giovanni held it as they walked towards the road. She entered a taxi, waving at Giovanni, who now wore a face mask. The realization struck her, and she gasped.

He was the guy who had saved her from Marco at the restaurant.