♥︎ ✯ ☘︎︎

𝟏𝟎 ... 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰

☘︎︎ ✯ ♥︎

matt 🍁

The sun dips lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the hillside as we continue down the winding path. The world feels soft and golden, as if the entire coast is holding its breath, waiting for night to fall. I can feel the strain in my legs from the hike, but it's the good kind—the kind that leaves you buzzing with energy.

I glance over at Callie, who's a few steps ahead of me, gazing down the path with a small smile. It's strange to see her like this, quiet and almost... peaceful. She must sense my eyes on her because she looks back at me with a smirk. "You keeping up, city boy?"

"Hey, I'll have you know I've got stamina for days," I say, even as I take a dramatic gulp of air.

She laughs, the sound light and unexpected. "That's what she said," she teases, but there's no edge in her voice—just an easy warmth. For a second, it feels like we're the only two people in the world.

As we round a bend in the trail, the faint sound of music reaches my ears. I see Callie's eyes light up, and she gestures down the path to a small building just ahead, its windows lit up with warm light and the unmistakable hum of people.

"My mom wrote about this place in her journal," she says, her voice softening as she gestures to a small building on the side of the path. Unlike the trail, which was empty, the building—a sort of rest stop—is packed. Lively Italian music blares from inside, mixing with the laughter and chatter of a crowd, while ponies neigh and stomp in the nearby pen. "Apparently they've got the best orange juice in the world and killer nachos."

"Good, cause I'm starving," I mutter, nudging past her to head inside.

Callie laughs and follows me, and I catch myself smiling. Her laughter's become one of my favourite sounds—not that I'd ever admit it out loud.

Inside, the place is a sensory overload. Every step risks bumping into someone; voices bounce off the walls in Italian, English, and a few languages I can't place. My nose catches a strange mix of spilled beer, sweat, and nachos, and I weave through the crowd, hoping we find a table.

We order orange juice and nachos, Callie stumbling through the words in Italian, which earns her a few chuckles from the locals. She waves off the teasing with a smile before we finally snag a small, sticky table wedged between two loud groups.

"You speak Italian?" I ask over the noise as we sit down.

"Just a little. I took it in high school," she says with a shrug, raising her glass. "To a great hike and an even better rest of our day."

I grin and raise my own glass. "Cheers." I take a sip, and the orange juice bursts with flavour—sharp, fresh, like biting into a ripe orange. "I think your mom was right. That's incredible."

Callie nods, her eyes wide as she savours another sip. "No kidding."

We dive into the nachos, both of us too hungry to say much, focusing instead on inhaling the food. It's almost five, and we skipped lunch, so every bite feels like it's bringing me back to life.

Once the plate's empty, I lean back, sighing in contentment. "Best nachos I've ever had."

Callie smiles and opens her mouth to reply, but she's cut off when an older man stumbles against her chair, his hand gripping her arm for balance. He steadies himself, but his gaze lingers on her face, his smile turning into a smirk. "Ciao, bella."

Callie's eyes narrow, and she yanks her arm back. "Vaffanculo," she barks icily.

The man raises his hands in mock surrender, shuffling away. But the table of men behind me is only getting louder, cheering and pounding the table with their fists as they chug drinks. Someone bumps into my seat hard enough that my ribs knock against the edge of the table.

The tight space and rising noise claw at my nerves. My chest feels heavier, my breathing faster, but I try to push it down. I'm fine. I've handled worse than this.

Then, someone trips with a tray of drinks, and beer and cocktails splash across the table, drenching Callie's shirt. I lurch backward to avoid getting soaked, only to crash into a man behind me. He glares down at me, fists clenched, yelling something rapid and sharp in Italian.

I can't move. My heart slams against my chest, my hands going cold. I'm frozen, like a kid cornered on the playground, and all I hear is my pulse thundering in my ears.

"Hey!" Callie's voice cuts through the noise. She shoves the man backward, her glare fierce. "Fare marcia indietro!" she snaps.

The man rolls his eyes but turns back to his table. She offers me a hand, her gaze worried. "You okay?"

I take a shaky breath and nod, avoiding her eyes. "Can we get out of here?"

She nods, grabbing my hand again and leading me through the crowd, barking at people to clear the way. Her fingers are steady, a strong anchor in the chaos around us. The second we step outside, I gulp in the cool air, letting it clear my head.

Callie studies me, her expression softening. "You good?"

"Yeah." My voice is scratchy, and I hate how unsteady it sounds. "It got... loud in there."

She holds my gaze for a beat, like she's trying to read me, but then she lets it go. "Sure. Ready to keep going? It's a half-hour walk down into Positano, and apparently it's a ton of stairs."

Callie isn't stupid. She definitely noticed I freaked out a little, but she's not pushing it, and I'm grateful. I hate when people act like I'm constantly on the edge of losing it. I was fine; it just... got to be a bit much.

"Yeah. I'm good," I say, but then I notice her shirt is still soaked. "Are you, though? You're drenched."

"Oh, this?" She waves it off. "I'm fine. Got a change of clothes in my bag, and I'm planning on swimming when we get to the beach, so I'll rinse off there."

I eye her skeptically, noticing the drops clinging to her arms. "If you're sure..."

"Matt, calm down," she laughs, nudging my shoulder. "I'm good. Let's go."

Her laughter breaks the last of my tension, and I realize today, I'm seeing a different side of her. She's been warm, funny, and even protective in a way I didn't expect. And I'd never tell her, but seeing her stand up for me, especially when she's laughing and just being herself? She's beautiful. Absolutely, effortlessly beautiful.

As we start down the trail, I can't help but think maybe I've underestimated her all along.

"Look, there's Positano!" pointing to the pastel-coloured town spilling down the mountainside.

Positano stretches out across the cove, the buildings painted in warm, earthy hues. Far below, the waves lap at the shore, flashes of whitecaps visible even from up here. And between us and that idyllic beach lies a winding staircase—narrow, steep, and disappearing into the trees.

"This feels like something out of Pirates of the Caribbean," I say, eyeing the seemingly endless steps. "I think I might need to channel my inner Jack Sparrow on the way down."

Callie laughs, nudging me forward. "Please do."

I throw her a mischievous grin and step down the first stair, launching into an exaggerated Jack Sparrow-style gait, arms flailing, knees high. I probably look like a complete idiot, but Callie's laughter echoes down the steps, filling the air. Normally, I try pretty hard not to embarrass myself in public because Chris and Bryn do enough of that, but I am figuring out that I would do just about anything to make Callie laugh.

At the first bend, I pause, glancing back to see Callie catching up. But before I can say a word, she sprints past me, tossing a cheeky wave over her shoulder. "Race you to the bottom!"

"If you trip and crack your head open, I'm leaving you to bleed out!" I call, not wasting any time as I chase after her.

"Same to you!" she shouts, still zooming down the stairs with zero hesitation.

She's fast, way faster than I expected. I'm taller, but her confidence on these stairs puts me to shame. She glances back, laughing each time I yell at her to be careful, and somehow that only makes her run faster. By the time I finally reach the beach, she's already there, finishing off her water bottle, looking totally unfazed.

The section of the beach we are at is small, the mountain behind us jutting out to separate us from the main beach in Positano. I'm not sure how we ended up here instead of the real beach, but this spot is nice. It's quiet, the only noise being water crashing against shore and birds chirping in the surrounding palm trees.

I collapse onto the rocky sand beside her, gasping for breath. "Shit, you're fast," I pant, stars flashing behind my eyes as I look up at the bright sky. "That was insane."

"I ran track in high school," Callie giggles as she tugs my backpack away from me to pull out my water bottle. "And I still run a few times a week. Helps me clear my head. Here, drink. You look like the tomato from VeggieTales."

"Ha ha, very funny," I say sarcastically, taking my water from Callie. I don't comment on the way she just shared something about herself so casually, but internally, the butterflies in my stomach are doing cartwheels. Is she finally starting to trust me?

"You going to swim?" Callie tugs off her tank top to reveal a black bikini, and I quickly look away as she shimmies out of her leggings. "Maybe it'll fix your tomato syndrome."

"Oh, you think you're so funny, don't you?" I retort and climb to my feet, pulling my shirt off in a smooth motion.

Callie gulps and averts her gaze, making me grin. "I'm hilarious, don't pretend like I'm not."

"Yeah, okay," I snort in amusement as I kick off my shoes and socks. "Race you."

"Hey!" Callie shrieks, chasing after me as I race toward the water, the sand warm under my feet. "Cheater!"

I laugh, crashing into the waves, the water a perfect shock of coolness against my skin. "Can't hear you over the sound of my victory!"

Callie splashes in behind me, shoving me hard. I stumble, then quickly turn to splash her back, sending her toppling into the water with a yelp.

"Asshole!" she sputters, soaked from head to toe.

I cackle with laughter at the unimpressed look on her face and dodge the splash of water she sends my way. "You were asking for it."

Callie makes a face of annoyance before lunging at me. She plows straight into my chest, her hands firm on my biceps, and my hands automatically go to her waist in an attempt to steady us both.

I assume she was hoping to knock me over with her body weight, but I only waver slightly, keeping my balance on my feet. But Callie, on the other hand, didn't catch herself, and is now leaning against me as she struggles to find her balance.

My breath stills in my chest as Callie replants her feet in the sand below us, her hands not leaving my arms. Her laugh dies in her throat as she looks up at me, her eyes widening when she realizes how close we are.

Every part of my body that she is touching feels like it's on fire, and I desperately want to close the space between us. My heart is hammering in my ears, my stomach alive with nerves, but I stay still, despite everything in me demanding I move closer. If Callie wants this, she has to make the next move.

Callie's breath slows, and my fingers curl around her waist as she gravitates closer to me. Her eyes search mine, looking for what I'm not sure, but she seems to find whatever it was she was looking for when her gaze drops to my lips.

I physically stop breathing when she gently grazes her thumb across my bottom lip, her touch light as a feather and intoxicating as hell.

"Matt," she whispers, her voice catching as she looks back up to meet my gaze.

Fuck it. She clearly wants this. That's a green light if I've ever seen one. I move to duck my head to close the distance between us, but apparently the universe doesn't want me to.

A huge clap of thunder sounds overhead, and out of nowhere, the skies open up, rain pouring down in thick sheets.

Callie shrieks and jumps away from me, her eyes wide  with panic. "We have to get out of the water!"

My head is still foggy from the near-kiss, but I don't argue when Callie grabs my hand and tugs me toward the shore. Her panic is contagious, and the sight of the lightning crackling overhead clears my head fast.

"Matt, come on!" she urges, her voice trembling.

I pick up my feet and match her pace, my heart pounding in my chest. The waves are getting stronger, and the storm's intensity grows with every second. I glance up at the sky just as another bolt of lightning splits it open, the thunder booming in the distance. My stomach churns with the sudden realization of how dangerous it is.

We scramble up the beach, my mind focused solely on getting out of the water, and I tighten my grip on Callie's hand as we race toward safety. The wind is picking up now, each gust harder than the last, and I flinch as a drop of rain smacks me square in the forehead. The storm isn't just rain—it's a torrential downpour, sharp and painful, pelting us with every step.

I look over at Callie, and I can see the fear on her face as the storm rages around us. I squeeze her hand reassuringly, trying to keep my own anxiety at bay. "It's okay. We'll find shelter in town, alright? Let's just keep moving." But Callie doesn't seem convinced, and I can't blame her.

We make quick work of tugging on our shoes, and after swinging both of our bags over my shoulder, I grab Callie's hand again without thinking and tug her after me in the direction of town. We have to go back up a few sets of stairs, but then it's a straight shot into the heart of Positano.

The world is getting darker by the second, and the streets of Positano are eerily empty. I had expected to find people taking refuge under overhangs or in cafes, but everything's shut down. All the windows are dark, and the streets are abandoned, the wind carrying the rain sideways.

"Matt?" Callie's voice trembles. "Matt, I don't like this."

"I know," I say, my throat tight. "I don't either, but it's gonna be okay. We'll find somewhere to wait it out."

I'm not sure if I believe my own words. I scan the streets, eyes flicking between the few darkened buildings, until I spot a small sign that reads Lina's Inn.

"Over here," I say, tugging Callie toward the door. I push it open, and the sudden silence is almost deafening after the chaos outside. The air inside is warm, and though the power seems to be out, there's a soft glow from a lantern at the front desk.

A sweet-looking woman with grey hair and a friendly smile greets us. "Ciao. How can I help you kids?"

"We're just trying to wait out the storm," I explain, glancing back at the chaos outside. "Everything's closed, and we were hoping to find somewhere to stay until the buses start running again. We need to get back to Sorrento by tonight."

Lina laughs softly, her smile sympathetic. "Honey, you're not going anywhere tonight. When these storms hit, there's no getting out. The buses won't come back until tomorrow, and all the shops are closed until then. I'm afraid you're stuck here for the night."

I blink, stunned by the sudden change in plans. I glance back at Callie, who's sitting on a couch with her head in her hands, shoulders shaking as she tries to calm her breath.

"Is there really no way out of here?" I ask quietly, not wanting to alarm Callie.

Lina shakes her head, truly seeming sorry. "No, not until tomorrow. And with the power out, you won't be able to contact anyone either. But..." She pauses, then gives me a warm, knowing smile. "I've got one room left. You're welcome to stay here if you'd like."

The sudden realization of being stuck here hits me like a punch to the gut. I hate it. Everything was supposed to go according to plan. And now we're stranded, in the middle of a storm, in an unfamiliar town, and sharing a room.

But what choice do we have?

"Okay. We'll take it," I say, trying to sound calm as I pull out my credit card. "Can I just leave my number and pay later when the power comes back on?"

Lina nods, and we sort out the details quickly. I make my way back to Callie, my stomach twisting with discomfort at the way everything's gone wrong. I crouch down in front of her, resting my hands on her knees to get her attention.

"Hey," I say softly. "You okay?"

Callie nods silently and wipes her eyes, and I pretend I don't notice her tear stains.

"It looks like we're stuck here for the night. The buses won't run until tomorrow, so... we'll wait here until we can leave." I try to sound reassuring, though it doesn't really help with the way my insides feel like they've turned to stone. "Does that sound okay?"

Callie nods again and doesn't fight me when I clasp her hand to pull her to her feet. We follow Lina up the stairs, the lanterns flickering in the dimness as we move through the inn. The place is quaint—painted a deep red, with wooden floors that creak underfoot. There's artwork on the walls, and the low glow from the lanterns makes the place feel like it belongs in a different time.

We reach the third floor, and Lina unlocks the room, handing me the key and a spare lantern with a soft smile before she heads back downstairs. I take a deep breath and push open the door.

The room is small. The bed is small. The single bed. That we're supposed to share.

I can't hide the discomfort that hits me like a wave, and for the first time today, I'm unsure of what to do next.

Fuck.

cara's obsession ❀

tehe. y'all don't even know what i've been cooking up 🥷🏼 (i was so hoping the canucks would win last night so i could post and they served with a 5-1 victory against the ducks i'm ecstatic)

when i backpacked europe last year i did this hike and it was wonderful! matt and callie basically lived my time on the amalfi coast. the orange juice is in fact to die for.

question of the day! who is your celebrity crush? any of the triplets is not an acceptable answer since obviously we all like them. so let me just say: quinn hughes, the man that he is 🥵 i love him so bad he's so ughhhh 😍😍😍

i love you all so muchhhh i hope you're having the best day ever !!! 💋💋💋

🍉 🍉 🍉