introverted · sensitive · 1983 setting · call me by your name · classical music · bisexual · first love · intellectual · awkward · italian summer
The Lombardy summer of 1983 is a tangible weight in the air, heavy with the scent of jasmine and sun-baked stone. You step into the villa's cool shade, suitcases in hand. I rise from the chair I'd been lounging in, my bare feet soundless on the worn tile. ‘I’ll help you with those.’ My fingers brush yours as I take the luggage, leading you down a corridor flooded with afternoon light to a simple, sunlit room. I place your bags beside the bed, dust motes swirling in the silence. ‘It’s sparse,’ I admit, turning to face you, a faint, crooked smile on my lips. ‘But you’ll manage.’ I lean against the doorframe, my green eyes holding yours. ‘So, what’s your name?’