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animus (m.) desire

ROSABELLE

At last, we have arrived at the long-awaited destination. I wanted to squeal in happiness the moment I looked out of the window and saw the striking, majestic red building in view.

We were at Red Square, the largest and most famous square in Russia. I couldn't help but reflect on the countless tales I'd heard of travelers embarking on their Russian adventure. Bloggers and travelers often recount their inaugural visit to Red Square, and now, it was my turn.

"Oh my God," I exclaimed as I and Emi stepped out of the car. "Emi, do you often bring ladies to visit such places? No wonder you're so popular," I left the word 'playboy' unspoken, not wanting to create any uncomfortable atmosphere for him. "Quite the romanticist," I sighed.

I had already heard a lot about Emi from Tatiana, my only news provider in Moscow. The way that man treated women, they would almost believe they were the only ones in his life.

"You like it, Belle?" Emi asked as he looked down at me, his eyes reflecting an unreadable emotion. "I love it!" I chirped.

The more we walked forward, the more the thumping of my heart beating against my chest fastened, my excitement grew.

Standing amidst the grandeur of Red Square, I gazed upon the cobblestone expanse. I was struck by the sheer magnitude of history that this square held. It stretched out majestically, adorned with iconic landmarks that seemed plucked from the pages of a fairy tale. At its center, the resplendent St. Basil's Cathedral, with its colorful onion domes, stood as an enduring symbol of Russia's architectural prowess.

The Kremlin walls, a formidable fortress of power and politics, loomed on one side, guarding centuries of secrets and intrigues. On another side, the sprawling GUM department store gleamed like a palace of luxury shopping, its historical significance as a Soviet-era marketplace merging seamlessly with modern elegance.

The square exuded an atmosphere of grandiosity, where the echoes of parades, celebrations, and historical events seemed to reverberate through time. It was a place where the past and the present harmoniously coexisted, where tourists and locals alike came to bask in its vibrant energy.

Guess, I was never taking back my statement about Russia becoming my favorite country.

"Can we take pictures?" I asked the man beside me with eagerness laced behind my voice. "Of course," his response was rather indifferent, in fact, to be precise, his whole demeanor remained indifferent.

I wondered why that was.

"Have you been here before, Emi?" I couldn't search for any other reasons in my mind for why a person wouldn't be amazed by such astonishing view unless they had already visited the place before. Fortunately, my assumption was confirmed when he nodded his head. "Yes, many times in fact. My dad was quite the enthusiast. He loved visiting historical places, so he used to bring us here often in his free hours of times."

The heaviness in his voice was almost imperceptible, but it didn't escape my notice. Nobody would detect the gloom that crossed this man's eyes for a thin moment of time unless they paid close attention, but it didn't take long for Emi to recover his playful facade. He looked down at me with a grin. "I don't suppose we come all this way for you to only admire me, Belle. I know I'm a pretty man, but I assure you, I'm not going anywhere. You can see me all you want after we leave this place, no?"

I scoffed at the cocky way of his tone, blushing at the realization that how he always caught me looking at him for an unnecessary amount of time, even when his gaze roamed elsewhere, he just knew.

Nevertheless, I was quite relieved that he had opened up to me. Though it had been a short time since we met, I relished the fact that he had shared a piece of himself with me, even if it was just a little, which led me to believe that perhaps he trusted me as well.

"You're a bit obsessed with yourself, aren't you?" I teased, earning a laugh from him in return. "For my own good, Belle," he winked.

"For your own good?"

"People have a lot of shits to say about me, and I have a lot of shits to do rather than worry about their gossip."

I half-laughed at his words, slightly amused as well. "Aha, that's bold. No wonder I thought your ego would be the size of Mount Everest the moment I saw you."

He chuckled and shook his head but made no effort to deny my statement. "Let's take some pictures of the beautiful Bella now, shall we?" The diversion of the topic reminded me that I wanted to capture some pictures to preserve the memories.

Some people says that eyes are your best memory catchers, but you know, that's a whole load of bullshit talk, unless you have a photographic memory. I literally can't even remember what I had for breakfast today, let alone capture memories in my mind.

"Okay!"

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"Seriously, dude, you have the most photogenic face, I'm not even lying," I exclaimed with my jaw nearly hitting the floor as I checked the photos we had taken. "I'm convinced that I'd believe it if you said you were a renowned Vogue model."

Emi's proud grin nearly stretched from ear to ear as he observed the photos with me.

At first, he had refused to take pictures with me, and the reason remained unknown to me. However, he couldn't resist my persuasion and ended up taking a few photos with me.

I swear, if I don't show off this man to my fellas and boast about how I spent my happy days with a greek god, my name isn't Rosabelle fucking de Luca. They'd be crying tears of River Nile, and I could already imagine their faces.

"Do you think the pictures turned out that good, Bella?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, and I glared at him as if it were the most unnecessary question he'd ever asked. But I replied anyway, "Yes, Emi. They are that good."

"Thanks, darlin'."

Butterflies danced in my stomach at the way he called me. I would be lying if I said I didn't like the way he addressed me every time.

Then I remembered the one question that had been lurking in the back of my mind for a while. "Uh, Emi?" I stopped in my tracks, and noticing my movement, he did the same. Looking down at me with a frown, he said, "Yes?"

"... U-umm, I wanted to ask, what is your... occupation, if you don't mind telling me?" A curtain of silence fell between us.

To be honest, the moment I teased him about looking like a Vogue model, the question had popped into my mind. And since Emi had already shared a little about himself earlier, I assumed he wouldn't mind if I asked.

Would he?

"You could call me a businessman," he said after a moment, breaking the silence. "I own a few nightclubs in Moscow, but mostly, I have many business clubs under my ownership."

All I could do was nod in understanding, unable to reconcile the image of this seemingly carefree man with that of a businessman. He appeared so... un-businessman like. However, I couldn't muster the courage to ask more questions about it to gain a deeper understanding of this man. And even if Emi had sensed my curiosity, he remained quiet about it. So, I found it more prudent not to push for any further queries.

"Are you hungry, Bella?" Emi's voice snapped me out of my reverie as we found ourselves near an ice cream shop, far from Red Square. I have already had my satisfaction of visiting that place, and now I was eager to explore some more before going off to my sweet home and telling my dad about my best adventure.

"Not really, but I wouldn't mind some dessert." I tried to appear nonchalant, but I was practically salivating at the beautifully decorated ice cream shop. It was such a pretty place. "Which flavor would you like?"

"Chocolate."

As we finally reached the store, Emi decided to order for both of us.

However, I winced the moment I heard what he was ordering for himself. "Seriously, Emi? Are you sure your taste buds doesn't need to get checked?"

Oh, for crying out loud, who eats green tea flavoured ice cream?

He only grumbled, "Don't insult my taste buds, Bella. They're unique."

"Yeah, no," I couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity, almost thinking that he must be messing with me. But my hopes were left in vain when he indeed picked up chocolate ice cream for me and matcha green tea ice cream for himself.

Well, I guess God even gave this man a few flaws, after all.

"I might start thinking you like me, Bella," he smirked and I turned my gaze away from him after realizing that I had been looking at him in puzzlement, again. I shook my head and rolled my eyes, much to his amusement. "And I might start thinking you eat pizza with pineapple topping, or worse, avocado topping."

This time, it was him who rolled his eyes. "You can't say pineapple topping isn't good, Belle. And I'd give avocado topping a solid nine out of ten, period."

I huffed out a laugh in disbelief. "God, you're... I have no words," I licked my ice cream before adding, "You're also a nine out of ten because of your food choices, period."

I watched as he took a bite from his ice cream... with his front teeth?

Damn.

When he noticed me staring in bemusement at his way of eating the matcha ice cream, he purposely licked the melting part, his tongue swirling around the scoop with more force than necessary.

The act alone brought a shivering friction within my body, making me turn my head to the other side, shyness coating my guts.

The way Emi laughed afterward, with his full canines in display, sent a wave of heat through my core, nearly turning me into a puddle of mush. His laughter was loud enough that it earned us a few curious glances from onlookers, some ladies' eyes lingering on him for an uncomfortably long time. This momentarily dampened my mood as I felt a surge of annoyance.

But he managed to recapture my attention with his next words. "Didn't think you'd consider me a ten out of ten man,"

I blushed even harder, recalling my words from earlier.

"You're such a tease," I mumbled with a pout, and then he raised an eyebrow. "Huh?" He suddenly bent his face down to my level, turning his head to bring his ear closer to my face, "What did you say, Belle?"

God, him.

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