Chapter 33 #2
Sneaking out of the house is surprisingly easy with Nico guiding us. We end up in the garage without issue, and neither Matteo nor I are surprised when we see Nico get in his own car to follow us.
“He’ll probably security stalk us with his little worker bees,” Matteo tells me as he pulls onto the street nearest the Moretti mansion. “But I can tell him to fuck off if he makes you uncomfortable.”
“No, it’s okay. He’s just taking care of us in the best way he knows how.”
Matteo looks at me after the words leave my lips, his smile soft like he knows what I mean, and he agrees.
When we get to our seats, the theater is just beginning to fill up.
Our box is a bit small but cozy, with comfortable chairs and space to breathe.
In my experience, box seats at the ballet can be hit or miss.
The privacy is always nice, but the view can vary.
Ours is a great one, though. I can see the entire stage and know that we won’t miss any details while the performance is on.
When the lights dim, Matteo offers me his hand to hold, and I take it happily. I don’t know whether he wants to hold my hand, or if he simply thinks it will make me feel safe in this unfamiliar place, but I don’t care. I want to feel his warmth against my palm, no matter the reason he offers it.
I do feel safe, though; I felt safe even before our fingers became interlocked.
The ballet theater full of people doesn’t make my stomach twist with anticipation, nor my heart race with anxiety.
Nostalgia, paired with the protective energy that Matteo offers, provide a comfort I didn’t think possible.
I’m entirely at ease as the opening act begins.
“Wow,” Matteo says under his breath, leaning forward in his seat as soon as the curtain opens. “They just jump right into it, huh?”
I fold my lips in, smiling as I mutely nod. He hasn’t seen this show before, that much is obvious. It makes me wonder who in his family secured this box, and if they often use it, since Matteo clearly hasn’t.
Dancers twirl and leap around a lavish party set, meant to represent the gardens of a medieval palace.
They’re celebrating Prince Siegfried’s birthday, carefree and joyful in their movements.
A traditional romantic melody transitions into one of melancholic duty as the prince’s mother informs him that he must pick a woman to make his wife at a ball the following night.
By the time the ballet has ended, almost three hours have passed.
I almost expected Matteo’s interest in the show to wane as it went on, but I think he may have enjoyed it even more than I did.
Though, I think I may have forgotten how much I enjoy watching ballet since I haven’t been participating in the art myself.
“You liked it, right?” Matteo asks, still holding my hand as he leads me back to the private parking area. There was a valet option, but he didn’t use it so that we could come in through the back instead of the busy front entrance.
“I did,” I agree happily. “The ballerinas were talented, and the music was lovely. I had fun.” And I did. Not even walking through what is basically an alleyway is taking away from the way the ballet lifted my mood.
“Good.” He looks down at me, a smile playing on his lips. “We have a couple hours before dinner time. Is there anything you want to do before then?” We both stop walking as he asks.
“Would you mind if I went to the hotel with Uncle Mikhail for a bit? I feel okay, but I told Tiffany I would check in with her. And it might be good for me to check in with myself. Just to make sure I haven’t pushed myself too far, you know?
This is the most bold activity I’ve done in a long time. Flying here, going to a public event…”
“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Matteo tells me, his voice going soft.
“You can absolutely go back to the hotel for however long you need. I’ll drop you off, and we can plan for me to come back in a couple of hours for dinner?
We can go somewhere to dine out or I can bring food with me.
Whatever you’re more in the mood for when the time comes. ”
Rubbing my thumb over his knuckles, I nod. “That sounds nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I agree, looking up at him. My eyes trace the shape of his lips, and I decide that I haven’t finished being brave yet today. “If I wanted you to kiss me, would you?”
“Oh, fuck, Anya,” Matteo breathes out, stepping forward to back me into the alley wall. “I’d give you anything you want. Anything. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”
The brick is solid and cold, and probably so covered with germs, but I don’t make a move to get off it. I’ll scrub extra thoroughly in the shower later. Nothing will ruin this moment for me.
“My cheeks,” I whisper just loud enough for him to hear. “Will you kiss them?”
Matteo doesn’t hesitate, leaning down to press his lips against each apple of my cheeks. His touch lingers on both sides, like he’s savoring the innocent connection. My whole body seems to break out in tingles, and I need more.
“My forehead?”
His lips brush just above the skin between my eyebrows, and I feel his breath in my hair, dancing over my scalp. My legs feel like they’re trembling, but I can’t allow the moment to end. Not yet.
“Chin?”
His eyes seem to darken as he kisses just below my lips, and my eyes flutter shut, then back open. Fear doesn’t prevent me from asking him to kiss my lips, but something undefinable does. I hug him instead, pulling his body against mine and tucking my head under his chin.
Matteo embraces me in return, inhaling as he does.
“Fuck,” he mumbles, gently placing his lips on top of my head. “I’m so fucking happy you’re here, meraviglia.”
I’ve never been happier to be anywhere.