Sleep is the for weak
Who: Romano, Alicia
When: Saturday 24th July, about 2pm
Where: Starting at the Coffee Shoppe
What: Ali wants to hang with her favorite Italian, Romano just wants to sleep.
The sun was glaringly bright as it shone down on one very tired, very reluctant Italian.
One day. One day since returning from Italy and Romano had already been bombarded with the attention of his brother, grandfather (unfortunately) and apparently even people he'd hardly met.
***
After swearing to the world (or at least to his brother) that anyone- anyone- who woke him within the next 48 hours would have their balls shoved down their throat, Romano had indeed been woken that morning.
And while it was physically impossible to punish Alicia for the text (how the hell did she get his number!? ) Romano satisfied himself by hurling the phone across the room, turning over and going back to sleep.
Unfortunately all that meant was that he had to get up to retrieve it once the next message came through.
[YOU BETTER ANSWER THIS PHONE OR I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN!!!]
Romano stared at it, yawned, and contemplated turning the phone off. He would have too, if it were anyone other than Alicia. But the girl didn't seem like the type to make hollow threats.
Fucking women.
****
And so two hours later here he was, waiting at a Coffee Shoppe corner table with head resting on folded arms, an empty Latte cup beside him. The want to go home was almost as strong as the desire to sleep there and then. Where the hell was Ali?