Can we be wrong tonight?

F

Francesca Raven

Well-Known Member
Messages
53
OOC First Name
Claire
Age
4/2013
In a dock on the south-western coast of Italy, a small boat chummed the water. Lit only by the soft glow of the midnight moon, Francesca Kendall-White shivered in her dress. Without her sister to accompany her, Fran felt extremely alone. Italy was still a place of unfamiliarity for the young woman, who had been living there for less than three months. Wrapping her arms tightly around her, she watched as the boat which had carried them both to the island bobbed up and down on the calm sea. Tired of standing, she slipped off her heels and sat down on the end of the dock, the tips of her toes skimming across the water's surface. If it weren't for the guilt plaguing her, Francesca would have found the evening quite pleasant, but as it happened this was no ordinary midnight stroll along the beach. She sighed, knitting her eyebrows in confusion as she considered turning around and walking home. With any luck, Keira would still be fast asleep, and she could slip back into bed unnoticed. Basilio would have been disappointed, of course, but he would soon get over it. But as the girl contemplated returning home, a sadness crept up on her that she couldn't shake. No. She had to see Basilio. It didn't matter that he'd lied about his English speaking abilities, or that everything about this situation was completely and utterly wrong. What if this was their only chance to spend time together before the wedding?

Pushing aside the guilt she felt, Francesca inhaled deeply. The salty smell of the ocean reminded her of the days she'd spent at the beach when she was little. This was a private and secluded beach, sheltered by beautiful white cliffs - nothing like the one she'd known as a child - but it reminded her of it nonetheless. As the minutes ticked by, Fran grew more and more nervous. Where was he? Had he stood her up? Maybe he'd had second thoughts about meeting her, too. She would have understood. Francesca could only imagine how furious his Mother would have been if she'd caught him sneaking out at midnight to meet the sister of the woman he was supposed to marry. Perhaps he had been caught, and that was why he wasn't here. Another minute passed. Two. Three. Francesca's concerns were morphing into severe nerves. Four. Five. He's not coming.
 
Basilio could still hear the footsteps of his father as the man paced along his study. Basilio's bedroom lay directly beneath it and as it was now so quiet, the slightest noise could be heard throughout the house. Basilio had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes for his father to leave the room, but so far the man had left twice, only to return and continue his pacing. It was beginning to get on his nerves by now and all he wanted was to be able to see Francesca. He'd been more than a little surprised when he'd decided that he wanted to see her again. Only to then have his thoughts answered when, after asking Francesca to see him, she'd replied with a yes. A hesitant one, but it was still a yes. Now all he had to do was wait for his father to sleep, which didn't appear to be anytime soon. Wilfred had gone down hours ago, Izabella was currently at her tutors house learning a variety of womanly virtues and Ciro had snuck into Abby's bed again only moments before. It was rather ridiculous that Ciro, aged thirty two, still had to sneak into his fiancee's bed considering they were to be married in a matter of weeks. Basilio's eyes had really been forced open to how the outside world worked when he'd run away from home aged eighteen. Of course his mother had dragged him back home only a year later, but it had been enough time for him to gain some experience in many things and be able to judge his own life accordingly.

The time was beginning to get away from him as he waited for his father, but he could wait no longer as it was now passing the time they had arranged to meet and he couldn't expect Francesca to wait for him all night. Instead he decided that he would just ignore his father and if he got caught, well, it wasn't outside the realm of possibility to be meeting with a client. Extremely late, yes, but it could and had happened maybe once before. He ignored his father for now and concentrated on sneaking out of his house. He'd been dressed for hours thankfully and so he didn't have to worry about collecting his robes before he left. All he had to do was worry about himself and Francesca. He really hoped she would still be there. Sighing as he made it out of the manor, he looked around carefully, paranoid he was going to get caught before making his way out of the wards and apparating to where Fran was. He was already late enough, there was no sense in making her way longer. He appeared a couple of metres away from her, hoping to not startle her as he approached. She was sitting on the docks, dipping her toes in the water. It must have been cold. Basilio shook his head, he shouldn't have come. He knew that, but he had to see her. He shrugged off the top layer of his robes and placed it around her as he knelt next to her and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. He smiled at her. "I'm sorry." He knew he didn't need to tell her why he was sorry, because she would know. Besides, there were so many things he needed to apologise for, it seemed like a waste of time to say them all aloud. He would probably forget one and then it would all just be fore nothing. Francesca knew why he was sorry. He was sorry for not being the kind of person she could hate. "The water looks cold."
​
 
He's coming. He's not going to come. He's coming. He's not going to come. Francesca's body shuddered, the cold seeping from her toes up her legs and spreading through her torso. She stared out to the vast expanse of ocean before her, wondering why she'd bother to come at all. Perhaps it was for the best. It wasn't like Keira would have been distraught - she wanted to go through with the marriage as little as Francesca. But what would it mean for the Ravens? As she sat on the dock, Francesca vowed this to be their first and last private meeting. She couldn't mess this up for Emilianna and her husband.

Just as this thought was crossing her mind, Francesca felt a cloak falling over her shoulders. At once, she was staring straight into the eyes of Basilio Raven. Francesca felt a rush of excitement, fear and adrenaline as her eyes made contact with his. His fingers on her temple felt red hot, burning through her skin. She loved it. She hated it. It was wrong. It was a sweet gesture, which left her heart racing wildly. The coldness she had felt before his arrival had vanished without a trace as he spoke, her ears filling with the thick and beautiful sound of his voice. He needn't have apologised. Francesca didn't care that he was late; he was here, and that was what mattered. He'd come, despite the risks involved, because he wanted to see her. When she finally managed to prise her gaze from his eyes, she glanced down at her feet. "I can't feel it, my toes are numb," She blurted out, before biting her lip. What was she saying? Get a grip! Francesca took a deep breath, trying to calm her jitters. "Why did you come?" She asked weakly, staring into the ocean below to conceal the tears in her eyes. What she really wanted to know was why he'd asked to see her in the first place. His sweet gestures had her almost certain that he felt the same way she did, but she needed him to confirm it.
 
Strike a match, let it burn to the end, watch the burning and feel the flames, that's the feeling of love, that's what you want when you love someone.

Those were the words that immediately jumped to mind when Basilio looked at Francesca and the look on her face as she looked at him. He'd never paid much attention to those words before. He didn't even know where they came from, they sort of just popped into his head and expected him to know how to deal with them. Basilio shook his head and looked out over the water as she told him that her toes were numb. What was she doing here? What was he doing here? He had to be crazy if he thought that they were going to get away with this. However, as Basilio thought about it, he realised that he didn't care whether he got away with this or not. He was thirty two years old and he was being forced to marry someone he didn't even like. What did that say about the kind of life he would be leading in the future if he didn't do this now? He needed something that was his, that only he knew about. Well, he and this one other person, but it would be their shared secret. He knew it must be hard for her, given that she was the sister of his intended bride, but she obviously thought there might be something between them if she had shown up. He'd given her plenty of time to back out, as she had done the same. He was here now, there was no backing down.

"If your toes are cold, maybe you should remove them, yes?" He turned his head back to her now, she wanted to know why he was here, yet it was the question he did not have a real answer to. Not a short answer that would give him only moments to say. It was complicated with many layers, each one more confusing than the next. He had to tell her something, so he closed his eyes and let out a sigh. He opened his eyes again and stared straight into her eyes. "I can't breathe." They had only just met, but there was just something, it called to him from across the water and nagged at him until he had arrived here tonight. He needed to explore it, to see what it was, whether it would be painful in the long run or not, he had to know. Basilio smiled slightly and held out his hand to Francesca. "Are you going to remain here, or would you like to walk with me?" The least he could do whilst he was here was show her some of his favourite places off of the island, the places he would go to get away from his family. His mother rarely left the island, so if he wanted to hide, but still be within reach should there be a need, he would just come down here, away from the manor, but only so far as to not enable his mother to follow him, but still reach him if she needed.
​
 
The soft lines on Basilio's face were all the more beautiful in the moonlight. Francesca was stunned that she hadn't noticed just how handsome he was until now. Now that the tears in her eyes had dried, Fran turned to look into Basilio's. His voice was so captivating that it took several seconds for his suggestion to register. She pulled her icy toes from the water and slipped her pumps back on, considering his next sentence. What did he mean? Why couldn't he give her a straight answer? Perhaps he was unsure of his own feelings. She certainly knew that feeling. The situation was so bleak that she felt choked, suffocated by the cage she had built around herself. This was her fault. If she had fessed up and admitted to Emilianna that Keira would never be happy in an arranged marriage, this would never have happened. Francesca would have been free to walk along the beach with Basilio without guilt. True, she likely would never have met Basilio if it hadn't been for Keira's arrangement with him, but she was kicking herself all the same.

"I understand," She said solemnly, slightly disappointed that he hadn't confessed any sort of attraction to her. He seemed to be a conservative man, though, and this gave her a little hope. Maybe he simply wasn't ready to say it yet. "Me too," She added, her train of thought being abruptly shattered by the man's gentle smile. She took his hand, appreciating its softness. Francesca could have sat on the dock with him all night and not been bored, but in case he had somewhere in mind that he wanted to go, she shrugged. "Let's walk. Si tratta di una bella notte," She said roughly, smiling at her acquaintance. Since arriving in Italy, Francesca had made an effort to learn the basics of the language, though it still confused her when spoken fast. Keira, on the other hand, hadn't bothered at all. The most she knew was how to order a glass of wine in Italian. Francesca shook her head in disbelief. This man couldn't marry Keira. The idea was preposterous, not to mention heartbreaking for Fran. She still didn't know how Basilio felt, but he'd asked to see her, hadn't he? That had to mean something. Slowly, and with the support of Basilio's hand, Francesca stood up and waited for him to lead the way. The silence between them made her feel uneasy, but Francesca's throat seemed to have completely closed up. There was a plethora of thoughts circling her mind, but none of them were forming into coherent sentences.
 
Basilio knew that what they were doing was wrong. They could both be punished severely for this, though mostly him, because Francesca was not part of his family, but, he had to see what he could get from this. Before he spent the rest of his life with Keira, he needed to see what he and Francesca could have. It was true that nothing could come of it, but, he couldn't just leave it like that, he had to see. His curiousity and need to know things was a curse sometimes, but here, here he thought that maybe it was a blessing. It had drove him to seek Fran out, to actually follow through with the plan of seeing her and to not turn back immediately after having shown up. Here it was definitely taking on a whole new feeling for him and though he wasn't sure how he felt about that, he wanted to find out. Basilio was glad when Francesca finally took his hand. He had the sudden thought that maybe she wouldn't, he didn't want to think about what might be going through her head right now. He knew what was going through his and if this went wrong he would never forgive himself for wrecking things between her and Keira. He knew all of this was trouble, but he didn't care.

It is a beautiful night. She spoke in his tongue and Basilio could have laughed. He didn't expect it. Keira after all, he knew, did not speak a stitch of Italian. He had wondered if Francesca would have the courtesy to learn, it appeared that she had. Basilio leaned down to kiss her hand. "Non è la notte che è bella, Stellina." Basilio looked up at her as he pressed his lips to her hand before smiling and returning to his full height and leading her along the dock. Basilio wasn't sure what was happening between he and Francesca, but that kiss to the hand had conveyed a lot more then he had initially intended. "So when did you start learning Italian?" He wondered if it was only recently. Her pronunciation was pretty good, though there were a couple of accents she couldn't seem to grasp, of course she'd spoken only one phrase. He had to hear more to know how well she could speak it. "What else can you say, Bella?"
​
 
Francesca's grip on Italian was not firm enough for her to dissect every word in Basilio's sentence, but she began to blush all the same. The flood of adrenaline that she thought was long gone suddenly rushed straight back to her toes as his soft lips pressed against her hand. The excitement, coupled with her fear that what they were doing was unforgivably wrong, made her feel lightheaded, but this gave her an excuse to grip tightly to Basilio's arm. Well, that confirmed it. There was no mistaking that her feelings for him were mutual. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure what she was feeling, but once she had overcome her guilt, what was left felt darn good. Following Basilio's lead, the pair set off down the dock toward the beach. It was funny how quickly the cold night had become so warm, as if Basilio's presence alone was heating up the beach like a fire. Or perhaps it was just the friction of her internal conflicts as they fought each other that was making her feel so hot. Before long, the forbidden pair were strolling along the soft, sandy beach, with only the gentle sound of lapping waves to keep them company.

"A few weeks ago," Francesca said, cutting through the silence. This was only partially true - whilst she had indeed been learning the basics for almost a month now, the sentence she had spoken to him moments ago had been rehearsed thoroughly before their meeting. Thought she would never have admitted it, it had actually been a feeble attempt to impress Basilio. Unfortunately, he promptly asked her what else she could say. Francesca stumbled in her mind over every piece of Italian she knew. "Er.. Il tuo salsiccia ha un lustro bella," Francesca tried, reciting the words she'd heard in her local butchers that day without a clue what they meant. Still, the word 'beautiful' was in there, so she was confident she must have been complimenting him. She giggled at her lack of understanding. "Sorry. You must think me awfully ignorant," Franny apologised, and then kicked herself for speaking so formally. It was a habit she'd gotten into from living with her Aunt, who came from an extremely affluent background. Keira, much to her Aunt's dismay, hadn't picked up the same qualities. "So.. what did you think of Keira?" Francesca asked carefully, hoping she wasn't prying. After they had arrived home, Francesca had heard all about Keira's mishap with the tequila. It wasn't that Fran wanted Basilio to feel indifferent toward her sister, but she couldn't help but hope there had been a lack of chemistry between them. After the rudeness with which she had behaved, she imagined Keira had not left the Raven household with the best of impressions.
 
At the blush on Francesca's face, Basilio knew that he had gotten his point across. He did not know how much italian she had learned, but he was flattered that she had bothered to learn any at all. Honestly he was being surprised by this woman at every turn, something he had not expected. From their momentary meeting, he had surmised her to be different to her sister, but he had not known to what degree. It was becoming more apparent to him that she was a totally different person and he was really rather intrigued by that. In his personal experience most siblings were similar, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Though Basilio would deny it fervently he knew that he was very much like his brother-mirrors and the thought that he could not escape them had plagued him once, long ago. Now, however, he was much acquainted to the idea of being a triplet and was quite happy to accept it, though his jealousy over his brothers would not leave him soon. The tightness of Francesca's grip on his arm, realerted Basilio to where he was. He had never felt quite so exposed as this. Should Keira's have found out about this, the slight on her honour would have been enough to end the upcoming nuptials there and then. The physical repercussions for Basilio would have been more severe and not to even mention the things that would have been done to Francesca. Though, with her being the head of her house hold, there was every possibility that his father would do nothing but blacklist the family throughout the wizarding world. A feat once accomplished by him when a suitor intended for Alessio had been caught in the throws of passion with a man who was not Alessio. That had been a very interesting day indeed.

The walk along the beach had no specific end, but Basilio intended on showing her some of his favourite places. They were few, to say the least, but that mattered very little to him at the moment. Basilio smiled at Francesca when she told him that she had only been learning his native tongue for less time than he had anticipated. He was very impressed indeed. Basilio stopped at the edge of the water and looked down into the sandy bottom. Two crabs were vying for dominance over a smaller fish and the resulting waves were akin to the turmoil they were surely both feeling at what they were currently doing. Though nothing was happening, the intention was there, it was all that mattered to a woman who could read the minds of her children. At the next words to pass her lips, however, Basilio's face immediately broke into a massive smile and he laughed quite opening for the first time. Clearly she had not read the phrase from a book and it was most likely that she had been to a butcher or perhaps a slaughter house, though a butcher made more sense. Shaking his head slightly and trying to retrieve his calm, though it was now far to late to pretend he had little emotion, Basilio looked back to Francesca. "Your way with words... they are definitely something else, Bella." If she was trying to suggest something, he was sorry to disappoint her, but actions such as those would likely get them both killed. It was bad enough that they were together alone, but if they added intimacy into the equation, well, there would be nothing he could do to stop the wrath of his mother. His father wouldn't even be the concerning factor anymore. His mother's wrath was much worse and the thought of her was terrifying even now. "Ignorant, no... misguided? well, that is a more appropriate term." He was more addressing the fact that she was here with him than her use of poor italian. Though he had invited her and then shown up himself. If she was misguided than that made him the con.

Her next question confused him. Did she really wish to speak of her sister at this point in time? He would have much rather spent this time talking about her, than of the sister he was bade marry. Not that such a marriage was uncommon and he had infact been born of an arranged marriage, but he hardly imagined his children leading to a lifetime of love and respect with Keira. Rather he would have been happy were she to simply fall pregnant to some immaculate conception. She was attractive, that was certainly true, but her manners and her own dislike for him would make things very difficult in the intimacy department. "She was... not what I expected, to be truthful." He told her. There were many things that he could say about her, none of them very flattering and even a few would reveal his own petty nature. "I do not expect her to pay for that bottle of whisky by the way. It hardly seems important." Though he had so loved that bottle and was rather disenchanted to learn that he was never to taste the liquor inside. "I hope you don't take this the wrong way, Bella, but your sister... she is rather... uh... inclined to deflect the truth." He was not calling her a liar, well, he was, but he was trying to be gentle about it. He didn't really care so much as needed something to say about the woman he was to marry.
​
 
Francesca wasn't entirely sure why Basilio had stopped walking. Curious, she followed his gaze to the shallow depths of the sea before them. At the sight of the duelling crabs, the corners of Francesca's mouth upturned into a smile, but it disappeared just as quickly when Basilio began to laugh. Conflicting emotions rose within her; firstly, embarrassment for having said something he found so terribly funny, and secondly a mild irritation. She frowned, her grip on Basil's arm lessening slightly. "What?" She asked him, but he quickly elaborated, putting her mind at ease. Whatever she had said, at least it hadn't offended him. The last thing she wanted to do was come across as the careless woman her sister was. Their blood relation was where every similarity between them stopped, and Francesca felt a nagging need to prove herself to Basil. The smile quickly returned to Francesca's face as he corrected her. "Misguided.. well, that's an incredibly polite way to put it, Basilio," She said sternly, but her grin indicated all too clearly that she was pleased.

The next few moments seemed to pass agonisingly slowly. Francesca wasn't even aware that she was holding her breath until she began to feel light headed again. Basilio spoke carefully, as though mentally checking every word before allowing it out of his mouth, but this only made her apprehension grow. He was clearly trying to refrain from speaking badly of her. Just when he had seemingly gotten away with it, he ended his sentence with something that made Francesca start. "Inclined to deflect the truth? What are you trying to imply? That she's a liar?" Francesca released her grip of Basil's arm entirely and stepped back, widening the distance between them. She shook her head in disbelief. It was no secret that Francesca was not entirely proud of her sister's life choices, nor her behaviour, but she was her sister. She was allowed to feel that way. Despite feeling a little relief upon finding out he was not too keen on Keira, Francesca was furious to hear that Basilio thought her sister a liar. "Well, I suppose you two will get along just fine then, Mister 'I can't speak English'," Francesca scoffed, folding her arms to shelter her torso from the bitter chill of the winter air. "I don't know what I was thinking, coming here," Francesca mused aloud, staring out across the ocean. The urge to walk down the beach had gone, and in its place grew a strong desire to apparate away.
 
For whatever this was, Basilio was grateful for this time. Certainly things could progress no further than this and they would likely not see each other again until the wedding, but he just had to see, to know what the possibilities might be. Had he been Ciro, he simply would have refused to marry Keira, but he was not his brother and though he did all that his father wished of him, he was still no closer to his goals. Not that it really mattered any more. His initial desires to head the family had seeped away long ago and he was now left wishing he had been Alessio instead. It was too late for him now though, he was too accustomed to the creature comforts his family and lifestyle provided him and he very much doubted he would be able to sustain his lifestyle without the support of his family. Basil smiled at Fran and nodded. "Perhaps so, but it is not the goal of a smart man to intentionally upset a lady." He was glad that she was not angry at him for calling her misguided. It was perhaps a harsh term, but he was lumping himself in there too. Why he had bothered to let anything come between them was ludicrous and he had to wonder what would happen if he returned to his father now and refused the marriage. Nothing he imagined was worth the defiance.

As soon as the words left his lips, Basil knew he'd said the wrong thing. He cringed as she latched onto his words and released her grip from his arm. Basil allowed her to yell at him, because he knew he'd been wrong to suggest anything of Keira, he didn't know her and Francesca was right about his own deceit, however different he perceived it to be. Though he honestly did not believe that he was the same as her sister. Basil turned to Fran and pulled her to face him, he wasn't going to talk into the side of her head. "Francesca, what I did was entirely different to Keira. None of you asked me whether or not I could actually speak english, Keira then proceeded to insult me, it would have been far worse had I come clean then. As far as she was concerned at the time, I did not know what she was saying. It was too late to stop." Basil may not have liked Keira very much, but he didn't want to embarrass her either. "I don't know either, obviously this isn't what I thought it was."
​
 
Unfortunately, Basilio had a point. What had Francesca really been expecting him to say, anyway? That he was truly, deeply, madly in love with her sister, and wished to marry her right away? Francesca bit her lip with such force her pointed incisor almost drew blood. In hindsight, her outburst had been completely uncalled for; Keira had insulted him. and in front of his Mother at that. Francesca turned gingerly to fact the dark haired man, her eyes shining with regret. "I'm sorry.." She began quietly, though she had no idea where to finish. Basilio had risked as much, if not more than Francesca to come to the beach tonight, and this was how she had repaid him. Quite frankly, sorry didn't cut it.

Francesca's gaze dropped to Basilio's chest, since the pain in his expression almost sent her crumbling with guilt. "Please, forgive me. I do not condone the way my sister behaved in your company the other evening." Francesca had slipped back into her formal tone, but did not stop to correct it; there was something about Basilio's company that put her at ease. Keira had spent so much time mocking her sister's accent, as though acting like a proper lady was something to be utterly ashamed of. Keira was wrong. It was the younger Kendall who should have been ashamed of herself. Francesca lifted a hand to tuck a lock of wavy brown hair behind her ear, but the gentle ocean breeze soon swept it back again. It flapped awkwardly, tickling her cheek and slipping between her still slightly-parted lips. It's presence was soon forgotten though, as Basilio's final comment caught her completely off guard. Francesca's head cocked slightly, her eyebrows sloped up toward the bridge of her dainty nose. "What did you think it was?" She asked, barely speaking above a whisper. If Basilio hadn't been listening closely, the sound might have been lost over the lapping waves, which had started to pool around their feet. Francesca hadn't noticed. She was completely lost in the depths of his tugging blue eyes. Merlin, he was so beautiful.
 
Basilio knew he was right, but unless it was his brothers or his father he didn't necessarily like throwing it into someone's face, especially Francesca's. He actually rather liked Fran and he didn't want to alienate her so soon. Perhaps he had been a little harsh in his phrasing of the sentence, but what else was he to say? That she was the most delightful woman he'd ever met and he would be eternally happy with her? That would have been a worse thing to say, as it was a lie and though he often lied for reasons he would rather not go into, it didn't mean that he enjoyed lying when it could be avoided. He didn't enjoy lying at all, truth be told. Though he admired his brothers for their level-headedness, a trait he knew all too well that he often lacked, he also despised them for it. That level-headedness often meant that they thought that they could tell him what to do and though it was mostly true in Ciro's case, he didn't much like it when it was Alessio who was trying. Shaking his head, Basilio looked at Francesca when she apologised, admittedly something he hadn't actually expected. Basilio was a very observant person and often prided himself on knowing the outcome of something even before it happened. Things were different here though, even before coming to the beach and seeing Francesca, he hadn't thought about why he had come or what might happen. He was too concerned with making sure his parents didn't see him and trying to figure out why he was going, an answer that still escaped him. Even so, her apology was not expected and Basilio turned to face her completely as he looked down at her.

The simple fact that she apologised was enough to make Basilio appreciate her that little bit more. Apologies were hard to come by in his family and so he was not all that used to them. Most people did not speak unless they meant to and that often eliminated the need to apologise, as something that was said was usually the truth, or a warranted opinion. The few times that Basilio had ever apologised were usually to people who were not his family and he definitely believed that he hadn't apologised for anything in the last couple of months, probably years. Apart from when accidentally bumping into his numerous family members or giving them something other than what they had asked for. Those weren't big problems that he had to worry about though and as apologies went they were pretty standard, they weren't really something that needed to be thought out first. He sighed though, when she asked him what he had thought this was; honestly he just wasn't sure anymore. He didn't even know what he had thought this was in the first place, so he didn't know what to tell her now. Turning away from her, Basilio looked skyward as he tried to gather his thoughts. The way she looked at him unnerved him a little, it wasn't really a look that he'd experienced all that much and he wasn't all that sure he was even reading right, but he had to do something, say something, anything. He looked back down at her, trying to gather his words. "Francesca, this... this was not..." He'd never really had a problem with speaking before and so he wasn't exactly happy about his words failing him now. Things were much easier when he wasn't being forced into a marriage with someone he didn't like and sneaking around behind his fiancée's back with her older sister. "I suppose that..." Ah hell, this wasn't working. Sighing, Basilio did the only thing he could think of in that instance. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and slowly pressed his lips to hers. It was not what he had originally set out to do, but he had to know. What was he risking all this for? The moment his lips touched Francesca's however, everything he was doing became clear to him. Maybe his freedom was worth fighting for after all.
​
 
When Basilio looked away, Francesca was certain she felt her heart sink straight to the bottom of the ocean. It was too late. The damage she had done was irreversible, and she had no one but herself to blame. All of a sudden, another pang of guilt struck her in the stomach. She had snuck out in the middle of the night to meet a man whom she barely knew, all the while leaving Keira by herself in an unfamiliar flat. What had gotten into her? The worst part was, it had all been for nothing. Any spark, any hint of feeling Basilio might have had for her would surely be long gone by now.

As the dark haired man stared out across the horizon, Francesca studied the side of his face. The softness of his curls. The defined line of his jaw. The curve of his neck. How had she not seen his beauty before? She'd noticed it, of course, from the moment the door of the Raven manor had been opened. But illuminated by the silvery light of the moon, and surrounded by the gentle rush of the ocean, Francesca could finally see it. A full body shiver snapped the witch back to her senses. The night was only getting colder, and she was beginning to see her breath in the bitter air. At last, she dropped her gaze to the sand, finally able to accept the fact it was over. Time to go home.

Francesca's head jerked up at the sound of Basilio's voice. His deep tones thrummed through her skull, almost sending her into another fit of shivers. Was he tripping over his words? Francesca couldn't decide which of his eyes to focus on, and so she flickered helplessly between the two. At that, Fran felt an irrepressible tug. Basilio's eyes were the softly glowing lanterns in the middle of a pitch black night, and Francesca was a moth. It was happening. It was really happening. Francesca stood still for a moment, the nerves on her neck alive with his touch, her lips bursting with excitement. After several seconds, she lifted herself onto tiptoes and brought a hand up to caress Basilio's warm cheek. Her fingertips brushed against his curls. His breath tickled her cheek. For just a single, forbidden moment in time, they belonged to each other.
 
Basilio was caught up in the moment. He wasn't sure what he had been doing only two minutes ago. The feeling of Francesca's lips on his were all that he cared about. Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed that the sky seemed to have been getting darker as they spoke. The millions of stars that had been in the sky only minutes ago, had now shrunk to a moderate number more in line with a few tens. The air around them was getting colder as well, to the point that even Basil was starting to feel it. However he wasn't thinking about that now. All he could focus on, was Fran. The kiss ended though and Basil soon found himself looking at Fran. Her hand on his cheek was warm, but it didn't stop him from noticing that she now carried goosebumps on his shoulders. He felt bad for allowing her to stay out this long without appropriate attire. Though she was wearing the top layer of his robes, it clearly wasn't enough as he could clearly see the goosebumps on her skin. He trailed his hands down her arms, the feeling of the goosebumps making him feel more guilty than he already did. He smiled slightly at her and looked out towards the buildings. There was a place he could take her that was warm, he went there sometimes when he was meeting new clients that he didn't want to take to the house. She would be warm there at least.

Basil smiled down at Fran, continuing to rub her arms slowly, making sure not to hurt her, but trying to make her warm, Basil tired to think of a way to tell her what he wanted to do, without freaking her out, or suggesting something inappropriate. Eventually he shook his head and just smiled. "It's really cold and I do believe that it is going to rain any moment now. The sky is getting even darker. I know a place we can go, there's a fire and some food. If you want?" He was leaving it completely up to her. He didn't want to spook her now, so soon after he finally figured all of this out. Though everything was still confusing, he knew how he felt about Francesca, which was strange considering they'd just met, but he wasn't going to risk ruining this. He would only have a couple of months left of freedom, before he had to cut things off with this woman completely. He didn't care though, a few moments was better than nothing at all. He'd never have believed that before, but now he agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly. Ciro would die. "I... I do not want to return to my home. Not so soon after this."
​
 
It ended too soon. The feeling was just coming back to Francesca's legs when Basilio brushed his fingertips across her arm, effectively turning them back into jelly. She couldn't tell if it was the cold or the adrenaline causing her to tremble, but for as long as she was wrapped up in Basilio's arms, she didn't care. Unfortunately, as the moment of the kiss began to wear off, a horrible thought was wriggling its way into her head. From what she could gather, the Ravens weren't planning on hanging about with the wedding preparations. How long did she have with Basil before he was whisked away from her? She'd have suggested calling the wedding off, but the Ravens were an old Wizarding family, and would surely surely be much too proud to cancel now. Perhaps... perhaps they could leave Italy together. For a moment, Francesca fantasised about showing Basil the quaint English village she had grown up in, but then she banished the thought entirely. That was ludicrous.

Basil was the first to break the silence. Francesca, who had been miles away, snapped back to the chilly reality at once. Suggestions of food, shelter and warmth tugged at the young woman's heart, but it was the thought of time alone with Basilio that eventually made her nod. Just as she did, several spots of rain speckled at her face, and she looked up at the dark sky nervously. "I can't go home, either," she said, and it wasn't for fear of Keira being awake when she did. The mere thought of leaving Basil now and returning to her own bed was simply terrifying. With this in mind, she lowered her gaze back to Basilio and smiled before saying, "shall we go now?"


Shortly thereafter, Basilio and Francesca apparated to a small Wizarding tavern on the outskirts of the city. The food and fire was ignored in favour of combining the heat of their bodies for warmth. Early the next morning, the pair stole home and crept into their own beds, and neither Keira nor the Ravens were any the wiser.​
 
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