#ihatethisitssobadhelp

[mischiefinbloom]

୧ ‧₊˚ the language of summer

₊⊹ summary: after years apart, reader returns to the villa, where memories and emotions intertwine. in the presence of elio, the air thickens with unspoken words and lingering glances. as they navigate the delicate dance of reconnection, every shared moment becomes a step toward rediscovering a bond that time had only deepened.

₊⊹ pairing: elio perlman x reader (no use of y/n)

₊⊹ warnings: none! maybe bad writing... sorry...

₊⊹ author's note: this was requested by someone, but I accidentally lost the request. I’m really sorry! :(

the villa stood at the edge of the world, nestled among the hills where the sun lingered a little longer, painting the landscape in shades of gold. it was a place that felt out of time, a retreat where days unraveled slowly, where the air seemed to hum with the weight of memories. you had come here, seeking solace from the pressures of life, yearning for the quietude that this place promised. yet, it was hard to ignore the quiet unrest stirring within you, an undercurrent that had been with you since you first learned that elio would be here.

the news, shared by beatrice, your childhood best friend, in her usual casual manner, had come as a surprise. elio. you hadn't seen him in years. not since that summer that was now little more than a distant blur of moments—half-remembered touches, stolen glances, the sharp, fleeting intensity of youth. yet, somehow, hearing his name again felt like stirring something you hadn’t fully understood. your pulse quickened, and there was a knot in your chest that you hadn’t anticipated. still, you didn’t let it show. you couldn’t.

beatrice greeted you warmly when you arrived, her embrace familiar and comforting. her smile had that same warmth that always made you feel at ease, as if nothing had changed. but there was something different in her eyes, a quiet knowing that you couldn’t quite place. she spoke of the past, of summers spent in this very place, but also of the present—of elio’s return. as her words floated in the air, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this summer, too, would be different, though you had no way of knowing how.

as the evening stretched into twilight, the villa came alive with the sounds of laughter and the clinking of glasses. you found yourself sitting at the long wooden table outside, the soft murmur of conversation rising and falling around you. the air smelled of fresh bread and herbs, and the distant chirping of cicadas added a certain melancholy to the moment. yet, amidst the simplicity of the evening, your thoughts were preoccupied with one thing: elio.

when he finally appeared, it was as though the world shifted just slightly on its axis. you knew he was coming, of course, but seeing him again—after so many years—felt like an unexpected revelation. the lines of his face had changed, though subtly, his youth softened into something quieter, more restrained. his hair still fell in dark, unruly waves, and his eyes—those eyes—still held the same sharpness, the same depth. but there was something more in them now, something unspoken.

he met your gaze across the table, and for a moment, everything else faded. it was as if time itself held its breath. elio’s smile was slight, but it reached his eyes in a way that felt like recognition, though neither of you had spoken a word yet.

"hello," he said, his voice a quiet warmth that felt familiar and distant all at once.

"hi," you replied, your voice faltering slightly more than you'd intended.

there was a brief silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was more like a question hanging between you two, something you both sensed but hadn’t yet articulated. you found yourself wondering if he felt it too—the way the past lingered between you, the quiet pull that had always been there, unspoken and unresolved.

beatrice, ever the matchmaker in her own way, made a casual comment about elio’s return, and soon enough, you found yourself sitting beside him. the evening unfolded around you, and while you spoke with the others, your attention kept returning to elio. there was an intimacy to the way he listened, the way his gaze would occasionally flicker toward you, as if he were silently observing, waiting for something. you couldn’t quite name the feeling that stirred within you, but it was there, lingering in the background, growing with each passing moment.

the days that followed were less defined by any particular event and more by the subtle shifts that took place between you and elio. he would appear at the oddest moments—alongside you in the garden, casually leaning against the stone walls of the villa, or walking beside you on the narrow paths through the vineyard, his presence an almost tangible thing.

one afternoon, you found yourself wandering the olive groves, your thoughts far away. the light was soft, filtering through the thick branches, and the world seemed to hold its breath in the stillness of the afternoon. you paused, running your fingers over the rough bark of a nearby tree, when you heard elio’s voice behind you.

"you ever feel like you’re not really anywhere, like you’re just waiting for something to happen?" he asked, his tone light, though there was an undercurrent of something deeper.

you turned to face him, meeting his gaze. there was a vulnerability in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, something raw and unguarded.

"I’ve always felt like that," you admitted, your voice softer than you intended. "like there’s always something just beyond reach. and I keep waiting for it to come to me."

he studied you for a moment, and you could feel his words hanging in the air between you, unspoken but understood.

"I think," he began, his gaze dropping for a moment before meeting yours again, "I think I’ve always been waiting for something, too. I just didn’t know what it was."

the silence that followed was not awkward, but filled with a quiet understanding. it was as if, in that moment, you both realized you had been circling around the same feeling for years, though neither of you had ever found the courage to voice it.

later that evening, you found yourself once again seated with luca, your best friend over the years, who had a mischievous grin on his face as he observed you from across the table. his laughter was infectious, and though you had become accustomed to his teasing over the years, this time, there was something different in his eyes. he had always had a way of cutting through the tension between you and elio, whether intentionally or not.

“so,” luca began, casually leaning back in his chair, “how are things with you and elio?”

you glanced at him, surprised by the directness of the question. you hadn’t expected luca to address it so openly.

"what do you mean?" you replied, trying to keep your voice neutral.

luca raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “oh, come on. you two have been inseparable. spending all that time together, wandering the vineyards, talking about... who knows what.” he gave a playful wink. “it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

you felt your cheeks flush, and you quickly looked away, feeling both defensive and strangely exposed. “there’s nothing going on,” you insisted, though you weren’t entirely sure you believed your own words.

luca chuckled, clearly not buying it. “sure, sure. if you say so. but just so you know, I've got front-row seats to this little drama of yours.”

“drama?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” he said, his grin turning sly. “you know. the one where you two pretend you don’t like each other, but we all know it’s only a matter of time.”

you laughed, trying to dismiss the thought, but part of you couldn’t ignore the way your heart raced at luca’s words. it wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned the chemistry between you and elio, but something about hearing it from luca—who had known you both for so long—struck a chord.

the evenings became more like small islands of time, moments you cherished in their simplicity. elio seemed to gravitate toward you in the most unexpected of ways. there was no hurry between you, no rush to define what was happening. but the air between you was thick with the weight of unspoken words, a quiet tension that neither of you could ignore.

one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you found yourself once again alone on the terrace. the villa was quiet, save for the distant rustle of leaves in the wind. the night was cool, and you held a glass of wine loosely in your hand, the faint taste of it lingering on your tongue. you had been lost in thought when you heard elio’s footsteps behind you.

“can we talk?” he asked, his voice hesitant, though his presence was steady.

you turned to face him, surprised by the weight of the moment. elio rarely asked for conversations, and when he did, it was as if every word mattered. he stepped closer, standing just within reach, his gaze intense.

“I... I think I've known for a while,” he began, his voice soft, almost as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. “I think I've known what this is. what I feel when I’m around you. but I never knew how to say it.”

you felt your pulse quicken as you took a step toward him, the distance between you almost nonexistent now. you could feel the heat from his body, the rhythm of his breath, matching your own.

“I’m not sure I know how to say it either,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat. “but I feel it, too.”

and then, there was no more need for words. his lips met yours softly, tentatively, as if testing the waters of this new reality between you. the kiss deepened slowly, like a slow burn, until it felt like the world had shifted in that single, quiet moment. there was no rush, no need to speak; the silence between you was enough.

when you pulled away, breathless, elio rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “I’ve always known,” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. “I just never had the courage to admit it.”

and for the first time in years, everything felt perfectly in place.

author's note: i hate this, it's so bad. i'm sorry.