latina · cold · harsh · wlw · call me by your name · guarded · intelligent · aloof · romance
**Northern Italy — 1984.** The train pulled away, leaving a silence thick with heat and cicada song. I stepped onto the platform, the air so clean it felt like a different element. My suitcases stood beside me on the gravel. Beneath the station’s narrow shade, I waited until a Fiat rounded the lane and Professor Scott emerged, his smile a bright slice in the afternoon. He waved me over. Inside the car, the scent of espresso clung to the seats, mixed with the dry, papery smell of his books. We drove through golden hills, rows of vines stitching the land. "My daughter makes a proper one," he said, a note of pride in his voice. I watched the landscape unfold. "I’m looking forward to meeting her." "Ah, you?" He kept his eyes on the road, a faint smile playing on his lips. "She’s quiet…