Blizzard

A nice romantic week for two getaway in Venice sounded absolutely perfect. Three weeks ago when the for two part actually existed. Now it just sounded like a track wreck. Especially since the deposit was non-refundable and after being financially forced into going Nova found out that Venice was experiencing a bit of frost.

Or the entire river was covered in a thing layer of ice and everything else was coated in a rather thick layer of snow. Yesterday's plan of a nighttime gondola ride seemed futile now. The blizzard that swept in when the temperatures dropped had ruined any redeeming quality the trip had.

"Guess there won't be any boating tonight."

Nova had been in Italy for three days so far. Trying to talk to Italian market venders, trying to understand the Italian waitstaff and employees in the hotel she was at. So to hear an accent that wasn't Italian, that was British even, was like a gift.

She turned eagerly, the street lights illuminating the night well enough that she could make out the features of the young Brit standing a little away from her.

It figured. It figured that on a freezing cold night in Venice, the only time the Italian city lacked it's romantic luster, she would run into someone who looked like he modeled for Burberry. The young man before her had a deep tan and the perfect sweep to his hair (it sort of made her jealous in a weird way). He looked absolutely flawless.

Life had a rather sick sense of humor lately. Teasing her with a handsome stranger.

"No I suppose not," Nova replied finally.

He had a smirk on that told her he was aware of her staring. She hated when people were smug like that. Her last boyfriend was smug like that.

"What brings you to Venice?" He settled on an easy question, not wanting to seem too obtrusive.

"Holiday?" It sounded more like a question but Nova wasn't sure how to explain her reason for being in Venice. Telling a stranger (albeit an attractive one) that it was supposed to be a trip for her and her boyfriend before he left her.

"Same here," he nodded to her and then moved closer.

"I guess I might as well just head back to my hotel," Nova felt awkward, standing around with a stranger.

Before she'd left for Italy her mother had gone over a handful of stories about people being robbed on holiday. Apparently, in her mother's neurotic opinion, Italy was full of dangerous pickpockets waiting to steal from her. She'd brushed it off until now. What if he was waiting to rob her? Or kidnap her? Or kill her?

"Why?" He had a nice smile. Well, he had a nice everything but his smile was especially nice. "There's still plenty to do, there's a bistro just down the way."

Nova shifted anxiously, following the line of his arm with her eyes, trying to find the bistro he mentioned in the distance. The street lamps didn't do much to light anything in the distance.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"Everyone needs to eat, right?" His smile was far too contagious for Nova's liking and she found herself nodding in response.

He took her hand then, as if the action was completely natural, and led her back the way they'd come. She tried to concentrate on other things as they walked. The crushed snow imprints of pedestrian shoes, the frozen street lamps and signs, the whirring snowflakes that were still falling. Even with all those thoughts she couldn't stop herself from noting the feeling of his warm hand in hers.

Her ex boyfriend was never much of a hand holder, especially in public. It was out of place to her that a complete stranger would hold her hand the way he was. There was a gentle swing in his arm that caused her to go along with it. Every once in a while on their walk he would look over and smile at her. Nova tried her best to smile politely back, he was making her more than a little nervous though.

The bistro he'd mentioned was right up ahead though and the moment they reached the door he held it open for her. Nova slipped in passed him. The hostess at the front smiled at them, taking out two menus as they approached her.

"Two," the young man stated, holding up two fingers to let her know. Most of the Italian's she'd met spoke decent English and she was sure the waitstaff here did too.

"So, I never did get your name," he mentioned as they sat down at the table.

"Nova."

"Just one name?" He grinned.

"Yeah," she couldn't help smiling back, "like Madonna or Prince."

"Well Nova," he emphasized each syllable of her name, "I'm Zayn."

"Zayn?" She wrinkled her nose at the unusual name. It fit him though. He looked like a Zayn. He looked like a model out of Italian Vogue.

"Your's isn't terribly common either," he laughed, "now what bring you to Venice?"

Nova refused, through the first glass of wine the waiter brought, to divulge the real reason she was stuck in Venice in the snow. By the first course and a second glass of wine she caved, agreeing to tell him why she was in such a sour mood about being here. She didn't feel as strange as she thought she would, going over all the events.

She reasoned that the comfortable feeling came from him being a complete stranger. He really didn't know her and, come tomorrow, they would be about their own business. He would have forgotten her and she would have moved on from worrying that some attractive stranger would find her equally appealing.

"So, how long are you staying in Venice?" He asked once the dessert was in front of them and the waiter had left them two glasses of champagne.

"A week, or four more days."

"Not a very long time," he mentioned.

Nova frowned a little, "to see the city? I think the bad weather has ruined that."

He smiled, the look in his eyes hinting that she had misunderstood the meaning of his comment, "I meant not a long time for me, to get to know you."

Nova tried to control the embarrassing giggle that escaped her lips, internally blaming it on the increased level of alcohol in her system. Zayn smiled as she brought a hand up, covering her mouth to silence the noise. It was a flattering statement and he knew that.

"What brings you to Venice?" Nova asked finally.

"Holiday," he shrugged. "Here, I've got it," he put his hand over hers as she reached for the check the waiter was offering them.

Zayn made quick work of it, scribbling the math for the tip down on the receipt before sliding a bank card in the folder and handing it to the waiter. Nova sat back and watched. She wasn't really an old fashion type, she didn't mind paying half for something that wasn't really date.

"Well consider this a date," Zayn caught her by surprise and Nova looked up, realizing she'd spoken out loud.

He helped her with her coat and walked with her out of the bistro. She'd promised that her hotel wasn't a long walk from here but he told her that he wanted to see her back safely.

He held her hand again on the walk. The little swing from before picked up and he even tangled their fingers this time. He mentioned that he was from England, something that made her laugh because she'd very obviously noticed.

Nova didn't protest him walking her to her room. She knew all the horror stories that her mom read her were possibilities but she doubted Zayn was capable of anything less than gentlemanly behavior.

"This is my room," she hesitated to open the door, turning the keycard over in her hand.

"Thank you for having dinner with me," he leaned forward, pressing his lips to the corner of her mouth.

Nova couldn't stop the smile that came as his lips met her skin. It was the sweetest feeling in the entire world.

"I think I have a bottle of Pinot in my room," she licked her lips, "if you'd care for a night cap?"

Zayn shifted a little, bringing his face close to hers again, his mouth ghosting hers as he spoke, "Absolutely," he whispered before capturing her in proper kiss.