Illyana's POV
We lingered over lunch at the trattoria, savouring the delicious pasta carbonara and the warm afternoon sun on our faces. Alessandro continued to share stories of his childhood, his voice filled with a nostalgic warmth that made my heart ache with love for him. I listened, captivated, my hand finding his across the table as we interlaced our fingers.
“There’s one more place I want to show you,” Alessandro said, his voice soft, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mystery, of anticipation. He paid the bill, his movements quick and efficient, his usual confidence returning, but I could still sense a trace of nervousness beneath the surface, a subtle tremor in his hands that betrayed his excitement.
He took my hand, his fingers lacing through mine, his touch sending a familiar w
