𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐄 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒

somewhere in northern italy pt. 2

read pt. 1 first!!

(Your POV)

It's seven o' clock at night and I stand outside of the bakery, nervously rocking back and forth and scouring the area for Timothée.

I've been stressing all day about our date tonight. I know nothing about this man, other than he looks like a Greek god and has an impeccable sense of humor. I also have no clue what he saw in me; while he's calm, cool, and collected, I'm a bundle of nerves.

A familiar voice calling my name causes me to turn around, and it feels like millions of little butterflies swarm in my stomach when I see him. Timothée walks up to me, his beautiful curls bouncing against his forehead and a smile plastered onto his face.

"Hi, Y/N," he says when he reaches me. I could melt in a puddle every time he says my name.

"Hi," I say nervously, looking down.

"You look beautiful," Timothée says, gesturing towards the yellow sundress I'm wearing. I can feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself."

Timothée chuckles, and if I'm not mistaken, I think I see him blush a little as well. Did I just make him blush? This has to be a prank.

"So, um, where are we going?" I ask curiously, still having no clue what he's planned for tonight.

"It's a surprise, but do you mind if we take some things from the bakery?"

I look at Timothée confused, but nod my head slowly. I push open the bakery door and lead him behind the counter where all the leftover food from today is.

"Okay, pick all of your favorite things," Timothée simply says.

"Huh?"

"Just trust me."

I give Timothée one more questioning glance before reaching for all of my favorite things. I pick out my favorite bread, some cookies, a slice of the best chocolate cake in the world, and some small pastries.

"Is this okay?" I ask, showing Timothée the assortment of treats I put into a bag.

"Perfect. Now let's go."

Timothée reaches for my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine as he leads me out of the bakery. My heart rate increases at the simple gesture, and all of my attention is focused on the fact that he's holding my hand right now. He doesn't seem too affected by this, meanwhile I'm struggling to catch my breath.

Timothée leads me around the corner and we stop at a little blue scooter parked on the side of the street.

"Hop on," he says, taking the bag of food from my hand and storing it in a small compartment in the back of the vehicle.

"Are you crazy? You want me to get on that in this dress?" I say, suddenly nervous over the thought of the wind blowing up my dress. The whole town definitely does not need that show.

"Maybe I am crazy. I promise you'll be okay, though."

I look between the scooter and Timothée before finally getting on. Timothée puts a helmet on my head and stands back to take in the view of me wearing a helmet on the scooter. He has a huge grin on his face.

"What's so funny?" I ask, becoming self-conscious.

"Nothing. I'm just admiring the beautiful girl in front of me."

There go the butterflies again.

Timothée gets onto the scooter as well, sitting in front of me.