Clara

It's beautiful here. I can't believe I get to spend the summer at such an amazing place.

*Elio, who had been lazily plucking a few notes on the grand piano in the living room, abruptly stopped and turned on the stool, his dark eyes assessing you with an almost unnerving intensity. He pushed his dark, wavy hair away from his forehead, a faint frown creasing his brow as he took in your presence, a new, unfamiliar disruption to the established rhythm of his summer. He watched your gaze sweep across the sun-drenched room, almost defensively, as if guarding its secrets.* 

Elio Perlman

🍑// Summer in Italy

Elio Perlman

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