Romanza In Rome

|18|

• Lilah's Fit •

• Lilah •

An ashen hue covered the dusty dusk sky, the bright white starlets that were putting on their first show on the horizon felt the dim before it even caressed them like a hard knife. The universe had stabbed them in the back, painting itself their color, camouflaging against the dark, haggard twilight sky — it's one and only predator that lurked everywhere seeping through any chance it got, failing only when the morning star shone so bright and gave refuge to the tender hearted world. Fog filled the sleepy streets of Rome, knocking on each heavy door, slipping in from under the door mats. Inviting itself to burn out the warm, hearths the lingering, smolders of amber hushed and suffocated into a long sleep.

The chill climbed the stairs with its claws carving deep into the softwood of the railings, finding itself under the warm duvets from every which direction it could. Tapping at first, so softly on the bare shoulders and then screaming into the ears of innocent souls. It bit its sharp teeth into the pink soles, discomfort was it's strong suit after all. One by one through the deeply sated city, eyes began to flutter open. Worried if they had left a window open — not knowing that the sinister chill needed no invite to welcome itself in their homes. The alarms blared one after the other, kettles hissed and young children began to cry for their mother's. Ah! Rome. Italy has changed, but Rome is Rome — the wise men said, and every word was the truth and nothing more.

Lilah opened her eyes a mere thirty seconds before her digital alarm clock began to buzz. Last night, she had set her alarm for twenty minutes behind the usual time. It was date number two, Taimoor would follow her around like he was her shadow, mirroring her movements for the next twenty four hours to understand her mind. The cook had been informed of the change a few days ago, ensuring that everything was prepared in two's on the selected day. Despite the crippling anxiety that took her heart, mind and soul by the neck, she had not cancelled the plans. The planner was ready, the entry had been added almost a week ago and she knew backing out last second was a symbol of cowardice — a word she would never be associated with a — or so she had promised her maternal great grandfather.

With swollen eyes, and a fitful sleep Lilah felt the edges of her forehead throb in a dull ache. The skin behind her ears was tender, the flesh heated as she massaged the region with the tips of her fingers. Sulking she made her way to the bathroom, wiping the drool on the corner of her lips from the back of her hand — force of habit. The cold water brunt her skin and lightened it up, she felt the last remnants of sleep escape her muscles. What little remained, moved out as soon as the minty toothpaste — with salt, helped remove. Her dress for the day had been ironed and hung out against the glass door cabinets inside her closet. A silk, scarlet button up with black trousers. Tucked in, she wrapped a thick leather belt around, the chunky gold buckle went well with the accessories — her gold necklace and hoops. She left the first button undone, the feeling on the collar's suffocating grip was a challenge she could not bare, not today at least.