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WREN.
Tate had spent the morning on his phone with Steve discussing things in secret. And though I knew it was none of my business, I kind of felt left out whenever he went and shut himself in the bathroom.
I was standing on the balcony overlooking the Colosseum with a wine while Tate was yet again on the phone to Steve. It was a breathtaking sight at night with the lights. And just as incredible in the light of day inside.
We were up early this morning to have breakfast and beat the queues at the Colosseum. Even though we had tickets, there was still a line to get in.
We spent a few hours exploring the Colosseum. It was daunting and a little jarring to think that was where the Romans held their gladiator fights. I could almost picture it when it was at it’s prime. It would have been magnificent. All the spectators. The blood. There would have been so much blood.
After the Colosseum, we explored Rome some more. The ruins at the Roman Forum and everything from the Spanish Steps to Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon. It was such a busy day and overwhelming to be surrounded by so much history. I understood why so many people flocked to Rome daily.
The sliding door opened behind me, and Tate’s arms slid around my waist, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder. “What are you doing?”
I sighed and leaned back into his arms. “Enjoying the view. It’s beautiful here. Thank you.”
Tate was quiet. He responded by simply placing a kiss on the top of my shoulder.
“Ready for bed?” he asked after a while.
I stifled a yawn. “I’m not tired.” I didn’t want to say goodbye to the view just yet. Rome at night was something to behold.
Tate chuckled. “Don’t you want your beauty sleep for your photo with the pope tomorrow?”
“What are you trying to say?” I turned in his arms and frowned.
“Just that we had a big day. You should get some rest before tomorrow. I know I’m exhausted.”
I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, you wouldn’t be if you slept at night.”
“I’d sleep at night if you didn’t tempt me so much.” His hands slipped down to my waist and grabbed my butt, pulling me into him.
“I do no such thing.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away before skipping inside with a laugh.
“Liar,” he called after me.
I pulled my leggings off, kicking them to the side, leaving me in just his t-shirt. I glanced over my shoulder at Tate. His eyes were on my bare legs before lifting slowly and settling on my face.
He groaned. “I like you in my shirt.”
I gave him my best innocent smile as I slipped into bed and pulled his shirt over my head, dropping it on the floor.
“Fuck,” he cursed and stripped off his clothes in record time before ripping the covers back and climbing in beside me. He rolled me onto my side and curved his body around mine. His arm wrapped around me and settled on my chest, his knee between mine.
“Tate?”
“Mmmhmm?” He snuggled closer, his breath hot on my neck.
“What are you doing?”
“Sleeping.”
“You know I’m naked, right?” I wiggled against him and his body tensed behind me.
“Well aware of that.”
“So?”
“I’ve created a monster,” he mumbled and sighed, not moving.
. . .
“How do I look?” I strolled out of the bathroom and asked Tate. I’d spent the past hour getting ready. Something I never did. I styled my hair, took my time doing my makeup and made sure to put on clothes that followed the Vatican’s dress code.
Tate folded one arm across his chest and placed his other fist under his chin as he looked me over.
“Well?” I pinched the flowing material between my fingers and twirled on the spot.
“Is this a trick question?” he asked, eyebrows drawn together.
“No.”
“Babe, we’re visiting Vatican City. You need to cover your shoulders and legs—”
“I know, that’s why I’m wearing this.” I swished the material around.
“You don’t need to wear a nun’s habit. Where did you even get that from?”
“A girl is always prepared.”
Truth be told it was just a Halloween costume from a few years ago that was shoved inside my suitcase and forgotten about. I didn’t even know it was in there until a couple of days ago when I found it hidden inside a zipped compartment.
“You can’t go out like that.”
“Fine.” I pulled the headpiece off my head and then removed the robe until I was standing only in my underwear. “Better?”
“Fuck, no. Put the habit back on,” Tate growled.
I rolled my eyes, picked up the jeans and t-shirt I had set on the armchair earlier and pulled them on. “There.”
“Perfect.” He came over, snaked his arm around my waist and kissed me. “Let’s go. Don’t want to be late for your date with the pope.”
“Do you think he’ll like me? What if I make a bad impression?”
“Impossible.”
I knew I wasn’t really meeting with the pope. I’d have more chance of becoming an astronaut and being sent to live on Mars than I did of meeting the pope, but it was fun pretending.
St. Peter’s Square was jam packed with people by the time we arrived, all waiting patiently for the pope to arrive. Disappointment filled my stomach as I realized I was never going to get close enough to see him. I guessed the big jumbo screens were going to have to be enough.
Tate held my hand and led me through the square. I followed blindly, gripping his hand tight so I wouldn’t lose him in the hordes of people. He pushed his way through to the front where he approached a guard and showed him our tickets.
The guard nodded and pointed Tate in the direction of the steps. The steps where the pope would be.
“Close enough for you?” Tate wrapped an arm around my waist as we took our seats.
“What are we doing here?”
“Thought you’d like an audience with the pope.”
“No way?” I slapped his chest. We were so close I could almost reach out and touch the pope.
“I was just going to take a selfie in front of the jumbo screen,” I admitted, making Tate chuckle.