“So. What is there to plan if we already know the wedding is happening here?” Alessio asks.
I stand off to the side, on the stairs of the structure so that I can see everything around me.
Though I’m uncertain who exactly I’m protecting them from here, I do my job regardless. I watch every single movement out of the corner of my eyes. I glance at them, I glance at the house, I look at the woods to the back of the garden.
Nothing is happening. Simply the two of them standing in the middle of the pavilion looking at each other cluelessly.
“I suppose deciding on the flowers would be the first step. I think pink roses would look great as an accent,” Rosalie suggests.
“Of course you would decide on pink,” Alessio says, and at first, I think it’s a quip, but then he stands closer to her and puts a hand on her back. “You’re beautiful in pink after all.”
Rosalie chuckles and look at him with a brow raised. They share a look that I can’t quite pinpoint, then look at me, then back at each other and her expression softens. “Well, if there’s a flower you’d prefer we can combine them. Provided they don’t look terrible together.”
“I think pink roses is a great idea, perhaps white as well?” Alessio suggests.
She nods and looks around. “Those would fit in nicely too. I’m thinking an arch of them in the middle leading up here,” she steps closer to me and the stairs and waves her arms around. “The green from the stems and leaves needs to be showing too. It’ll tie in nicely.”
Alessio follows her as she walks. “I agree. What about several arches leading up to the stairs? Down the makeshift aisleway.”
“Ohh yes, that would be gorgeous, besides my uncle told me there’s no budget.” She smiles at him with a brightness in her eyes.
Alessio smirks at her in response.
He seems so incredibly charming right now, compared to the silent and stone-faced version of him that had been fronting when Eivor was around.
I find myself questioning if the two of them are truly in love and getting married for more than just their families. I don’t know much about either of them, despite the research Eivor gave me. I have no way of knowing what is true and what is simply his opinion on things.
According to Eivor, Alessio is a cold and weak man. He doesn’t seem very cold right now. As he follows Rosalie down the stairs past me and walks with her along the hedges and cobblestone.
“How many people do you think we need to seat?” Rosalie asks. “Including both of our families that are in town, and out of town, that is about twenty people. Who knows who else my uncle will invite.”
“We should plan for fifty. I think we can get all of the chairs in here. We’ll need to get heaters as well so they don’t freeze their asses off. Maybe they’ll think we’re crazy for having an outdoor wedding during the coldest winter anyone can remember here.” Alessio laughs and glances over at me as they stand a few feet away. “I don’t know how you’re out here without a coat.”
I tilt my head toward them and push my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. “What’s cold to Rome isn’t even close to cold for everywhere else, and besides, I’m used to the cold.”
“I can see that,” Alessio smirks at me, crookedly, and his eyes move down to my feet and back up. I feel a buzz of something run up my spine. The way his lips tug to the side. The way his long hair is speckled with snow. His long dark hair is brushed back into a ponytail at the base of his neck, but several wavy strands stand out against the side of his face.
I can see why Rosalie would want to marry him.
I blink, and I’m grateful that my eyes are hidden.
The sky is getting darker as it threatens heavy rain.
I walk over to them more abruptly, and I place a hand on Alessio’s shoulder out of some instinct even I’m not aware of. I quickly put it down to my side.
He looks back at me. Rosalie looks at me as well and her eyes shift down to my hand.
“Time to go inside,” I tell them.
They both look up at the sky as the clouds look even more ominous. “Of course,” Rosalie says. “I’d like just a minute to talk to Damian, okay, Alessio?”
Alessio eyes both of us, his expression darkening. “Alright. I’ll be inside.” He leans forward, and I recognize it as him trying to kiss Rosalie, but she doesn’t meet him in the middle. Not right away.
“Oh,” she mumbles. Then she leans in and presses her lips very softly to his. Her face is flushed pink, but I’m pretty sure that’s from the cold.
Or maybe not. When he pulls away after the soft kiss, she looks a bit discombobulated.
Alessio makes his way inside, and I’m outside in the ever-strengthening wind with Rosalie. She looks up at me with pale eyes and her lips turn down.
