"I'm glad you're the one that knocked my favorite ice cream to the ground yesterday~"
Ari felt his chest tighten as he heard the words. Not in a bad way, the way one's chest tightened when they felt grief, or sorrow. It tightened in the way that someone wanted, yearned for more. The kind that said 'I want to hear those words every day for the last of my life.' "Me too," the man replied smiling softly at Valeria, the soft pressure of her hand squeezing his, magenta eyes vibrantly staring back at him.
There were plenty of places Ari wanted to see if he was to be honest. Japan, France, Australia, South America, anywhere, so long as it was new, different. It seemed he wasn't alone in this sentiment either, Valeria apparently having her own sense of exploration. "Food is culture, after all," Ari agreed with the girl, sticking to the topic of Rome for now. "Besides, nothing in the US can really compare to a country's own cooking. Same goes for hotels. The little holes in the wall, where its always packed, but you think you might get food poisoning," the man laughed, "that's where the good shit is."