It's a Love Story

She shook her head. "No. I mean, I can draw better than some but not as well as them."

"You must be different kind of artist," he concluded. "With clay? Or imagination? Musica~ or poetry?"

She blushed slightly. "I like writing."

"Ah! A writer," he smiled. "Good ones are hard to find. Have you sold any of your writings," he asked.

She shook her head. "I'm not as open about my stuff as the rest of my family may be. I haven't showed anyone my writing."

"It's a shame. All the best writers don't share their works," he said. "Shakespeare shared his only because they were plays. Do you write plays, madam?"

"I supose I could. I write stories about life. I have one going about my high school life, I hope to publish it. It's sort of like a diary." she said softly. She didn't know why she was telling this guy all this.

He chuckled. "I didn't mean you should sell them, madam. Not without someone else reading them first. Before you get to the publisher, you have to get an agent. Agents are very hard to find and very criticizing. You cannot take what they say personally," he told her.

She nodded. "Why... Why are you telling me this?"

"Because a beautiful young lady like yourself should not cry," he told her. "And I unintentionally got your hopes up - publishing is never a sure thing. Not unless it is a sequal to a successful book."

"But I wasn't crying." she said softly.

"I meant if you get turned down, if you decide to find an agent," he said.

"Oh... Thanks for the adive. I'll keep it in mind if I decide I want to be published." she nodded, starting to walk away.

He reached for her hand. "Wait, madam," he said, taking her hand.

She stopped and looked at him, blushing slightly. She'd had boy friends before but none of them made her blush when he touched her hand. "Yes?" she asked softly.

"I do not know your name. Oh, silly me. You don't know mine, either," he chuckled. "I am Pavo."

She smiled at him. "My name's Roman."

He smiled. "You were named after my home? Brava," he chuckled. "Have you been to Roma?"

She shook her head, smiling. "I want to. Are you really from Rome?"

"I am," he smiled, nodding. "My family lived right in the middle of the city, and then transportation got very good and tourists made the city very loud. So my family moved to the country side - very beautiful - and now we own many farms. A farm for pigs, a farm for grapes to make wine, a farm for apples and peaches. Many farms," he smiled. "All of them beautiful as far as eye can see."

Roman smiled. "I'd love to see that someday."

"Perhaps your family will do art shows in Italy one day. Call me when they do - I'll show you around my beautiful country," he smiled.

She nodded. "Thank you Pavo." she said, smiling up at him brightly.

"You are most welcome, Madam Roman," he bowed his head to her, smiling back at her.

"This may be weird, but, have I seen you around my school? I feel like I've seen you in one of my sister's classes." She said, looking at his face.