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A loud squeal pierced Isabel’s eardrums and she covered her ears with her hands. “You DID! Girl!! How did you not tell me the moment you got back? Is he crazy hot? Do you have any pictures?!”

“I didn’t even think of taking a picture of him, actually…” Isabel admitted. “Besides, I would have felt weird asking to take a picture of a stranger. But yes, he was definitely hot, in a ‘Prince Adam when he’s transformed back into a human with a less weird face’ kind of shaggy way.” She blushed a little at Sebastian’s memory and how natural it felt to be tucked against his side.

Melody punched Isabel in the shoulder and shook her head. “Did you at least get his phone number? Email address? NAME?”

The expression on Isabel’s face again gave her away. “IZZY!”

“His name is Sebastian! And no, I didn’t get his phone number, but I got this?” Isabel leapt up from the couch to avoid being punched again and pulled out the piece of notebook paper, but she didn’t really need to. Melody seemed pacified and grabbed the bowl of popcorn.

Melody swiped the paper and stared at it. “Oooh, is this hisaddress?Did you go there?!” She began tossing popcorn into her mouth dramatically, staring at Isabel.

Isabel shook her head, dodged a piece of flying popcorn, and dove under her couch blanket. “He was a tourist from Italy, Mel. Can’t you read? I couldn’t just hop in a cab and go over there! But I gave him my info. And I…might see if I can save up for a trip to Italy.”

“Girl, as your best friend, I cannot condone you traveling across the ocean to chase after a man you just met. But…as a die-hard romantic, I’m so tempted to encourage this delinquent behavior! This is way too much like a movie to just keep that piece of paper in your pocket for the rest of your life.”

Isabel took the page and tucked it back into her pocket. “I don’t know about that. Keeping the address in my pocket until we’re old and grey, then running into each other randomly again sounds more like a movie plot to me.” She stuck her tongue out at her best friend and snagged a handful of popcorn.

The movie they’d been watching was all but forgotten at this point, so Isabel turned off the TV. “It took me an entire year to save up for my trip to France. So even if I do decide to scuttle off to Italy, it won’t be any time soon. Maybe I’ll just borrow another trope and write him a letter. Artsy types like that kind of thing, right?”

“Yes, yes we do. You didn’t tell me he was an artist, Izzy! Did you ask him what medium he uses? What subjects he likes?” Melody again looked at Isabel like she was about to expound the secrets of the universe.

Isabel just shrugged. “He paints, but I don’t know what he paints. Does that really make a difference?”

A look of sheer disappointment colored Melody’s face. “Izzy, ofcourseit makes a difference!! If you do write this man a letter, I demand that you demand that he send you a photo of himself and examples of his work. That way I can judge if he’s good enough for my best friend.”

As much as Isabel wanted to argue that she wouldn’t be demandinganything,she knew the look on Melody’s face. So she sighed and nodded. “Fine. I’ll make the hostage demands. But you’re paying for our snacks next time. Bossy butt tax.”

“I suppose I can handle that, if it means I get to gaze at your Disney Prince Italian hottie. Did you two at least go on a date? Anything?”

Another shrug. “Kind of? He joined me on my tour around the Louvre and linked arms with me like we had known each other our whole lives. He did ask me to go to lunch with him, but I decided wandering a strange city with a stranger was a terrible idea, so I declined.”

“Okay, safety first. That’s my girl! But Izzy, holding your arm like that?! He must have really thought you were one hot mama.” Melody held her hand up for a high-five, and Isabel rolled her eyes before acquiescing.

The clock on the wall began to strike midnight and Melody’s smile melted into a puddle of a frown. “Damnit, I should go to bed. I have work in the morning. But you write that man a letter and I demand to see the pictures when they get here!”

“Okay, okay, Madame Bossy Britches. Get out of here so I can write in peace.”

Melody waggled her eyebrows as she shoved her feet into her already-tied shoes, then shifted her heel up and down a few times to straighten the back. “Alright, you need some alone time. I get it. Don’t get too spicy in your first love letter and scare him off!”

“Mel!” Isabel howled, her eartips beginning to burn. She lunged forward to punch her friend in the shoulder, but with a cackle Melody rushed out the door, slamming it behind her.

CHAPTER5

Vernazza, Italy. 12 August, 2006

It had easily been a century since Sebastian had spent this much time in town proper. Despite knowing how slim the chances were, he still made the trek to the post box to check for a letter from Isabel every night as soon as the sun went down. How long would a letter take to get from Utah to Italy? Would she even send one at all? He forced himself to believe so, despite having no evidence.

At least finding his Muse again had given him a ray of sunshine in his bleak existence. She seemed healthy this time. Strong. That was a relief after her last life had been cut tragically short by a heart condition. This century they may have been able to save her, which only served to increase the ache of loss.

Such thoughts followed him back from town and down into the dungeons in search of a painting. It was small, but the scene was beautiful. “I didn’t know if I’d have the strength to revisit you, Guilia,” he whispered. As his fingers brushed the paint, the water it depicted began to ripple and he felt his magic beginning to stir.

Sebastian placed the painting on an easel in his unused bedroom and sat down on the bed. He took a deep breath, placed his palm to the paint, and closed his eyes.

* * *

Venice, Italy. 8 June, 1825

The sound of running water faded in gently, encircling Sebastian like a warm blanket. When he opened his eyes, he found himself floating gently through the Great Canal on a gondola in the early evening. Lights were just beginning to flicker on in the surrounding buildings like stars waking up for the night.