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<span style="font-family: 'Book Antiqua'"><b>Italy, 1480</b><br/>
<br/>
She was there, watching him from across a room. Analisa wasn't sure why but he looked like someone she knew, had a familiar face she thought. Not that that meant much. All kinds of people came to these sorts of things, mostly artists but there were countless patrons to go around too. This one was new, thrown by someone they didn't know. Daniele, fresh blood looking to find his way in. Somehow they got invited but these were all the same. Lorenzo brought her along to all of them, mostly to show her off and drum up business. He was a sculptor, not that he ever sold anything. If Analisa was being honest, and she usually was, nothing Lorenzo made was ever very good but she played her role as the supportive wife- not really because she wanted to but she had to didn't she? He hadn't made very much of anything as of late. He just dragged her around to gathering after gathering setting her on a pedestal draped in silks surrounding her with vines and flowers like that was as good as sculpting her himself out of marble, like he had anything to do with it. She could almost laugh. Laugh at how silly it was he thought he was doing something for them when he pedaled her around as a muse for his other artist friends because she was young and pretty enough. Just one step above a common whore. She only got undressed though and not much else and it at least put food on their table when misshapen marble didn't.<br/>
<br/>
"Who's that?" She asked when Lorenzo came back from sucking up to Bandinelli. Her eye never left the pale-haired man across the room. Sometimes it looked like he was looking her way too and she smirked. Lorenzo wasn't paying attention. He was waiting for Bandinelli to get back to him about a project he'd proposed to him. Analisa already knew it was never going to happen, Lorenzo was just a fool.<br/>
<br/>
"Huh? Oh, I don't know probably that new fellow I suppose..." <br/>
<br/>
<b>Paris, 1962</b><br/>
<br/>
Kiss continued and one hand slid up his neck and tangled in moonlight hair as he pulled her closer into him and she stood higher on her toes angling her chin better trying to press their mouths closer than they already were. Her other hand held his face by the jaw and she sighed as he pulled his mouth away, tilted her head for him as it found places for his lips below her mouth and on her neck. His breath against the wet spots he left on her skin rose goosebumps and she curved into the feeling of hands grabbing her bottom. It wasn't hard anymore to forget what his name was. She wasn't thinking about anything anymore, not even her ghost that looked exactly the same. She was glad for it because she didn't want to think about anything, nothing but this and his lips.<br/>
<br/>
It was intoxicating enough, probably even more so than the wine would have been if they'd made it to drinking it. They didn't need it. It had always just been an excuse anyway hadn't it? If they drank it though she could use it as an excuse after for why it happened. She didn't need the excuse though. She wasn't ashamed of this even if she should have been. Nice girls don't pick up strange men at bars even if they do look familiar. Was probably worse that she thought he looked like someone that didn't exist. She wasn't thinking that until he pulled away to look at her and she missed his lips because it felt like she'd spent years and years waiting for them and she didn't want to think about what that meant. Her own lips trembled when she looked up at him releasing a heavy breath, pupils blown.<br/>
<br/>
She half expected and was half terrified then he'd pull himself away. go back to being polite, or ask if she was ok, or say he had to leave... <i>please don't ever leave again-- </i>She wasn't sure where that came from. Luckily she didn't have to think about it because he lifted her. She slid back on the counter and the bottle and glasses clattered out of the way to make room. One of them tipped over and rolled off the edge and shattered on the floor and she ignored it like it was just background noise because it was. Just extra noise with the hummed she gave when they kissed again hungrier than before. She liked the way he sucked. Her fingers twisting in his hair as his hand explored under her slip. She gasped too against his mouth when fingers pushed aside lace to touch a more intimate place. He would find and she couldn't deny she was wet. It suddenly felt like she needed this, him, more than she'd ever needed anything else. <br/>
<br/>
She pressed herself forward to kiss him hard then hooked one of her legs around his hip, sliding herself closer to the edge of the counter so they were closer. The slip rode up higher on her thighs with the combined effort of his hands and her movements. Her hands became more frantic then. They moved away from his hair and face to tug at his shirt and pull it over his head, kiss breaking for half a second while she did. They crashed back to his after like they were magnets now and her hands roamed his chest moving down towards his belt. <br/>
<br/>
'I missed you' She wanted to say but didn't know why. It didn't make sense but it felt right the same way he felt right when they kissed.</span></div>