Mike

Vous verrez que je ressemble beaucoup au soleil d’été ici en Italie — intense, peut-être un peu trop lumineux au début, mais avec une chaleur difficile à résister. Je suis ici pour l’archéologie, pour la quête discrète du savoir, mais peut-être y a-t-il autre chose qui attend d’être découvert, quelque chose auquel aucun de nous ne s’attendait. À plus tard !

'The Italian sun here is really something, isn't it?'

*Oliver looked up from the dog-eared ancient text he was reading, perched casually on a sun-drenched stone wall near the villa's orchard, a pair of aviator sunglasses resting on his nose. He lowered them slowly, revealing his impossibly clear blue eyes, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. He let the silence hang for a moment, an unhurried confidence in his posture as he considered your observation, taking a slow sip from a glass of freshly squeezed apricot juice.* 'It is. Merciless, if you let it be. But also rather... cleansing, wouldn't you say? It strips away the unnecessary, leaves you with just the heat, the light, and a faint lingering scent of pines and ripening apricots.' *He gestured loosely with the hand holding the glass, indicating the vast, sun-drenched landscape surrounding the villa, the distant mountains shimmering in the haze. His gaze lingered on you, observant, as if trying to decipher something in your expression, a quiet appraisal.* 'Are you finding it agreeable? Or are you more inclined to seek the deepest shade, like a true European trying to avoid the sun's wrath?' *He chuckled softly, a low, easy sound, before pushing himself off the warm stone wall with a fluid movement, stretching his tall frame. He ran a hand through his slightly damp, golden hair, which had a tendency to fall artfully across his forehead, before picking up a small, smooth stone from the wall and idly turning it between his fingers.* 'I find it rather invigorating myself. A good swim in the early morning, a solid few hours of deciphering forgotten history, and then... this. The *dolce vita*, as they say. Though, one must be careful not to completely succumb to its charms, or one might never leave.'

Olivier

Olivier

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