““You could belong here,” he says, his tone surprisingly serious. I turn from him and look back at the cluster of buildings, one on top of the other. A beautiful and unique place to visit, but to live long term? “I don’t know about that,” I say. “This could be your life.” He spreads his arms out as if to encompass the whole of Cinque Terre. And him. I let out an uncomfortable laugh, unsure if he’s joking. “I’m not just going to move to a foreign country. I haven’t even finished high school yet.” “ Si. ” He slumps a little, but he’s still observing me closely, intently. “I would like things to be different.” “What do you mean?” “I like when you are here. Things feel, ah, bene. Good. Better.” I open my mouth to speak, but I’m at a complete loss how to react. Bruno stows the camera away again and moves to sit next to me, straddling the bench. The inside of his thigh brushes against my knee, his other leg dangerously close behind me, and I shift away so we’re not touching. He reaches for a section of my hair and twists it in his fingers. “I like you,” he says quietly.””
