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#learning to gif so i can have some nice rome sets on my page....
terenos ยท 1 year
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rome gifs [1/?]
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camdentown-library ยท 3 years
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The flames in your eyes || ENG ver. Ethan Torchio x reader
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โ ๐Œ๐š๐ซ๐ฅ๐ž๐ง๐š ๐๐ž๐œ๐ข๐๐ž๐ฌ, ๐š๐Ÿ๐ญ๐ž๐ซ ๐š ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง๐  ๐ญ๐ข๐ฆ๐ž, ๐ญ๐จ ๐ ๐ข๐ฏ๐ž ๐š ๐›๐ซ๐ž๐š๐ค ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ž๐ฏ๐ž๐ซ๐ฒ๐๐š๐ฒ ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐๐š๐ฒ๐ฌ. ๐€๐œ๐œ๐ž๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐  ๐š๐ง ๐ข๐ง๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐ ๐ซ๐š๐ง๐๐ฉ๐š๐ซ๐ž๐ง๐ญ๐ฌ, ๐ฌ๐ก๐ž ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ ๐จ ๐ญ๐จ ๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ž๐ง๐ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ข๐ซ ๐ฌ๐ž๐œ๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ก๐จ๐ฆ๐ž ๐›๐ฒ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐ฌ๐ž๐š.ย 
๐–๐ข๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐ฆ๐š๐ง๐ฒ ๐ž๐ฑ๐ฉ๐ž๐œ๐ญ๐š๐ญ๐ข๐จ๐ง๐ฌ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ž๐ซ ๐œ๐จ๐ฎ๐ฅ๐ ๐ก๐š๐ฏ๐ž ๐›๐ž๐ž๐ง ๐๐ข๐Ÿ๐Ÿ๐ž๐ซ๐ž๐ง๐ญ ๐Ÿ๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐ž๐ซ๐ฌ, ๐ฌ๐ก๐ž ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐š๐ค๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐ž ๐š๐œ๐ช๐ฎ๐š๐ข๐ง๐ญ๐š๐ง๐œ๐ž ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐š๐ง ๐ฎ๐ง๐ฎ๐ฌ๐ฎ๐š๐ฅ ๐›๐จ๐ฒ, ๐ฐ๐ก๐จ ๐ข๐ง ๐ก๐ž๐ซ ๐จ๐ซ๐ข๐ ๐ข๐ง๐š๐ฅ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ฅ๐ฅ ๐ฉ๐จ๐ข๐ง๐ญ ๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ ๐š๐ฌ๐ฉ๐ž๐œ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐จ๐Ÿ ๐ฅ๐ข๐Ÿ๐ž ๐ญ๐ก๐š๐ญ ๐ฌ๐ก๐ž ๐ก๐š๐ ๐ฌ๐ž๐ญ ๐š๐ฌ๐ข๐๐ž ๐Ÿ๐จ๐ซ ๐ญ๐จ๐จ ๐ฅ๐จ๐ง๐ . โž
Genre: Fluff ;; romantic ;; slowburn
Pairing: Ethan Torchio x fem!reader
Warning: English is not my native language, I may have made grammatical errors. do not hesitate to correct me
N / A: The facts told are purely the fruit of my imagination, it is not my intention to do any wrong to any person mentioned, and above all the character of Ethan could (surely) not reflect the person in reality.
Happy reading to you all!
CHAPTER 1
The first rays of July had cast on the roofs of the houses in Rome, giving the off-white plaster and rosy tiles a golden sheen that tasted like honey. The wisteria were in bloom, as was the medlar tree under Marlena's house; the scent of life in the full act of her cycle, always knocked on her dining room window, filling it with sweet fragrances.
The girl used to take her place at the table during the late morning hours, surrounded by books and tomes quite old and gnawed by the dust, with the good resolution that even that day she would read and study those very boring pages of that equally boring examination. of Egyptology. The university summer session had already begun, she had just taken a couple of exams last June and was now preparing two more that she would take in the first weeks of September.
That time could seem apparently short, Marlena didn't care that much, what could ever distract her from her work? She had no friends, and by now, even though she had crossed the threshold of 21 years in the autumn, the girl was now completely extinct her naive youth, as well as her desire to laze.
The out of tune and unexpected sound of the intercom triggered her head bent over the books of the young woman, who after having heaved a sigh perhaps a little annoyed, she decided to get up from her chair, leave the dining room and cross the wide and not too long corridor in the shape of an "L" of his apartment, finally arriving at a brisk pace towards the device it had croaked in order to answer.
"Yes?" she asked quite firmly but not too cordially.
"I'm the postman, will you open me?" answered a stranger, as she pushed the button to open the gate.
Marlena therefore opened the heavy old door of her house, remaining patient to wait for the man to arrive at the door. Although she had lived in that condominium with her father for as long as she remembered it, she had not yet found a rational explanation for its lack of mailboxes. Was it because it was a palace built in the 1920s? Well that would explain the absence of an elevator as well, but a damn mailbox wouldn't be hard to add.
The man's gasping breath brought her back to reality as her eyes saw him peeking from the flight of stairs. Was he already that tired after not even crossing the second floor? The young woman wondered a little disappointed.
"Are you Madam Levavi?" the postman then asked, catching his breath and rummaging through her purse. Marlena wrinkled her nose instinctively.
"Ahm ... not madam, I'm her daughter" she replied shaking her head, what could that postman ever care if she was "miss" or "madam"? The girl lightly bit the inside of her cheek as a reproach.
"Here you are. How many floors are there still?" She asked the man wiping her sweaty forehead with a handkerchief after giving her the mail.
"Two more ..." Marlena replied disinterestedly as she closed the door, observing her letters.
Bills for electricity, water, the tax to be paid for the next university year and ... a letter?
Well, it certainly wasn't sent by her father...
The girl looked at the text of that letter once more, rereading it and rereading it several times, wrapped in a silence that was probably inherent in memories that clouded her common sense, while slowly after taking a few steps back, she gently placed her back to the wall.
"Dear Marlena,
I know perfectly well that it might have been easier to call you, but you know I've always enjoyed writing you letters.
Unfortunately I noticed that in the last few I sent you you didn't answer, I guess it's because the university keeps you very busy ...
However, I learned that your father is out of Italy on a business trip and he will be away until the end of August; It seemed only right to invite you to spend these last months of summer in our house outside the city.
I know that since your mom left, you haven't had the desire to visit us anymore, but I think it would do you good to change the air for a while. The place is quiet, there is the sea and also a large and extensive countryside with a pine forest and the locals are really friendly and helpful.
You can also bring Lapo if you want, I know you are very close.
Either way, let me know your verdict.
A strong hug.
Grandmother Agata.โ€
She had distant memories of that house, distant but still happy. He remembered when he woke up early in the morning with grandmother Agata and grandfather Laertes to be able to go to the sea and his little hands while looking for hermit crabs and shells on the shore, as he remembered the music in the square and the laughter echoing in the same way as the bells of the church on Sunday, everyone was happy ... and life seemed to be less unfair to those who deserved it less, it tasted like jam and fruit jellies, salt on the lips and bees flying.
Marlena's chest swelled with air, as if she had been holding her breath until then...perhaps because diving into one's childhood was like floundering in a stormy sea pretending to stay afloat.
The cheerful barking of her dog Lapo brought the young woman back to the present, who decided to place the letters on a window sill not far from the front door and set off together with the playful animal towards the kitchen. Lapo was a nice Bernese Mountain Dog, with a black, brown and white coat. It had been given to her five years ago, perhaps because her father had sensed that even his absence had created in the heart of his only daughter, a sense of distressing loneliness, which had consumed her to the bone making her totally apathetic for certain verses.
But Lapo, Lapo had saved her from her, with Lapo she spoke and shared gestures of affection, such as caresses and little licks between her fingers and hair. Sometimes Marlena fell asleep in her bed, with the bulky dog โ€‹โ€‹on her, because feeling her warm and humid breath on her blankets reminded her in her sleep that she was not alone in the dark of the night. As long as Lapo's heart had beaten the young girl she was not afraid of having to wake up or sleep.
Although she tried to convince herself that staying in her comfort zone would be easier than answering "yes" to her grandmother's request, a part of her was again attracting her to that letter; her gaze was captured by the horizon of her mind, while in the distance she could almost hear the sounds and flavors of a place almost too fairytale to be part of the material world.
"I know I should answer..." she murmured as she was intent on washing the peel of a red apple in the kitchen sink. Meanwhile the dog sat up looking at her intensely while she wagged his tail waiting for her.
"...It's just that, that place...and then I should finish studying, I have an exam to take at the end of the summer, Lapo" but the dog tilted his head in disappointment and then got up and trotted out of the room, looking for of who knows what amusement, leaving Marlena to her thoughts, as she bit into the freshly dried fruit with the kitchen towel.
All of this would only be for a little over a month and a half, just a month and a half and then she would leave it all behind her again, as she did a long time ago.
โ€œHello grandma. I'm Marlena..."
Marlena after putting the letter back next to her bedside table, she grabbed the cell phone not far away and typed some numbers on the screen, not too convincingly, and then brought the object to her ear.
There were those ten seconds of waiting that seemed the stroke of half a century, until a voice said "Hello?".
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Marlena had brought two large bags with her. One for clothes and the other full of junk such as: books, objects for the dog, tricks and everything that for her mind, not so familiar with travel, she considered indispensable. She was not so convinced that both of them would enter the trunk, but the exemplary ability to know how to adapt and make do with her grandfather always left her with amazement on the edge of her lips.
It took two days before grandfather Laerte's small and overly backward FIAT Punto made its peerless entrance next to the bottle-green gate of the small cloister of the Marlena palace.
The man had taken more or less ten minutes just to park, the niece had wondered how long it would take him to get there and start again.
The young woman was sitting in the back seats, together with Lapo. She held in her hands a small bunch of tulips that Laertes had brought her, made by herself. He said to her:
"I went for a walk in the countryside and tried to capture the most beautiful of all, like my granddaughter!" followed by a proud, croaking laugh. Laertes had always been a proud and incurable romantic, without ever giving up some of her drama, grandmother Agata did nothing but remind her of it in her letters.
Like when Marlena pointed out to him, that the steering wheel of the car was too damaged for the latter to be considered in accordance with the law, but he had always replied that a good soldier and partisan would appeal to his driving experience and a little 'of elbow grease, in order to be sure that the itinerary of the journey would be peaceful and without unpleasant hitches.
Lapo let out an enthusiastic bark when the croaking car left the endless concrete of the highway behind, and then took a narrow, winding, uphill road that would have led them to the small town.
Her gaze stared blankly at what was running, like tape in a movie camera, out the window; She saw the buildings of the city become less present, as well as the stench of smog, then there was a long stretch of highway, immersed in the wheat fields and every now and then some small farm or spare parts industry or other jobs would emerge.
In the car there would have been complete silence, had it not been for the old radio which played an entire disc of all of Lucio Dalla's masterpieces; Marlena's grandfather liked that singer, but not in the same way chatting while driving, because according to him it would have increased the chances of road accidents by 50%, and frankly, the granddaughter didn't mind at all this acknowledgment ... she didn't even know where she should have started and however much her relatives tried to make her feel at ease, she imagined herself as a stranger, a stranger, who had knocked on their door and was now just trying to learn and remember their common manners.
"If you look to the right you will see the sea, Marlena" Laertes informed her, while he struggled with the steering wheel at every bend, but he did not dare to make even a moan under stress. The girl decided to accept those words, and looking out (after rolling down the window) a crisp air of salt pervaded her nostrils like the balm of a mint. Her eyes tried to show as little as possible the defeat of an amazement that had overwhelmed her like a raging wave, making her heart pound.
The sea. Marlena loved the sea. And for a few moments she was wondering what she had forced her to shut up in the house all that time, but then her mind went back to static and clear. She knew why, and there was no other reason to get her back together, even if it was difficult.
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Yet there seemed to be few people around the streets, perhaps because at that time anyone with a minimum of wit would have holed up in the cool four walls of their home, just to escape the scorching heat that did not yield until the stroke of five in the afternoon .
By now it was almost two in the afternoon when Laertes' car passed the threshold of the square of the small town, while the attentive (even if apparently lost) gaze of his granddaughter observed everything in detail.
Nothing seems to have changed in that place since the last one who went there. The street was always covered with the usual, old and coarse slabs of white stone and eroded by the weather, as well as the various shops that surrounded the square and the small houses side by side, glazed with a fresh off-white plaster and dark brown roofs, the fountain in the center, and the small restaurant with its balcony overlooking the long pine forest that extended at the foot of the modest hill that supported the town.
A jolt suddenly shook Marlena, when her grandfather decided to pull over and pull up the handbrake of his FIAT, thus causing a slight recoil unexpectedly enough to suddenly wake the girl from her thoughts. She cleared her throat, while she opened her door, so that Lapo could finally trot and wag his tail excitedly around, on the other hand she didn't blame him, it must have been hard for a dog to stay good in the car for so many hours.
"Here we are!" proclaimed the elderly man putting the car keys in his pocket and then ring the bell of the small house next to FIAT "Your grandmother will be so happy to see you, I bet she will have prepared ciambelle with red wine to celebrate your reunion" he added while he waited for the woman he mentioned to open to him, already anticipating on his lips the pungent and sweet taste of those sweets he loved so much.
"So I suppose you made at least thirty" commented the young woman ironically, as she dragged out the two bags with extreme difficulty, attracting the attention of Laertes who, hastily adjusting his frizzy white hair, hastened to reach his niece to give her your support.
โ€œAh don't worry, kid. I'll take care of it, maybe you can ring the door, your grandmother has now gone deaf as a bell...โ€ he said as he gave a slight snort and then muttered something.
"Cโ€™mon, grandpa" Marlena replied then raising her eyes to the sky trying not to smile, how melodramatic could that man be?
After pressing her finger on the bell again, the girl waited for someone to answer and hearing the approach of some quick steps together with the rubbing of flip-flops on the floor, made her realize that Agata had finally heard their arrival. Marlena did not even have time to greet the elderly lady, who took her in her arms, wrapping her in an embrace that caught her unprepared and to which she did not respond immediately.
โ€œOh my love! Iโ€™m so happy to see you again! But look how you have grown! It seems only yesterday when you reached mid-thigh and now...โ€ the hands a little gnarled, but from the soft fingertips of the woman, gently took the face of her niece like a cup, as if to feel if her presence was only fantasy or reality "...You are a woman to all intents and purposes" she whispered and then fussed with kisses all over her face, while Marlena whining pretending to be somehow annoyed.
After climbing a short flight of stairs that led to the house located on the upper floor, the girl's nostrils and consciousness were flooded with memories and sensations already savored. She observed the now old floor of the house, granite tiles that alternated with one hand painted and another not; Marlena rejoiced with a touch of amusement when she as a child she spent boring afternoons playing on them, jumping only on the decorated ones because according to her imagination those remains were made of incandescent lava.
The walls were always the same, covered with a light blue paint and slightly lumpy at times, she could feel it, when the index and middle fingers of her right hand absently brushed the surface.
The house of Marlena's grandparents was very simple and perhaps apparently a little cramped. Having opened the wooden entrance door, after having passed the landing and the stairs, she had in front of her a corridor that extended along to her right, thus marking the various doors of each room that the house gathered inside. Almost parallel to the entrance there was the kitchen door on the opposite wall, without doors, next to it the bathroom door, and then the door to the room of the two elderly spouses. At the end of the corridor there was a small balcony with the railing covered with hanging vases where, like a multicolored waterfall, a thick branching of coral red bucanville came out which, in addition to poetically letting itself fall from the small niche, climbed elegant and graceful on the handrail of the then hug the outside walls of the house.
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Marlena took advantage of it, to be able to peep there, while she deeply breathed the fragrant and velvety scent of those petals, mixed with the sea breeze that came from beyond the pine forest that surrounded the town. She observed the small houses around her while if she winked she could distinguish the clear line of the flat and calm sea that merged in perfect alchemy with the clear sky on the horizon.
The young woman tried in every way to convince herself that that enchanted place, that little corner of paradise had never failed her...but she suddenly proclaimed herself foolish for having thought such a cynical thing in the least.
TO BE CONTINUED . . .
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