Chapter Text
You didn’t necessarily love driving long distances, yet the three hour drive from Bucureşti to Braşov was not nearly as bad as you had initially anticipated. Perhaps it was the breathtaking scenery as city infrastructure slowly transitioned to that of quaint villages and then the foothills of the Southern Carpathians. Or maybe it was the eagerness to leave the big city behind and begin your postdoc fellowship at the prestigious Transilvania University.
Sure, Bucureşti had been your place of residence for the past three years while you received your doctorate in art history, but leaving the city left you with mixed emotions. You had found a mother figure in the form of a mentor, Dr. Alexandru, who had graciously helped you secure this postdoc position. You had also gained a few comrades within your academic community. Yet, Bucureşti never felt like home. You previously considered home to be nearly 5,000 miles away in a small midwestern town, but even there it was a far cry from the community you had longed and wished for.
As thoughts of what once were shrouded your mind, you tried not to think of her. For she was no longer allowed to live in your mind rent free. Perhaps she was the reason you were so eager to leave in the first place.
Fortunately, your woeful reverie was broken when your new home came into view. The small city of Braşov was nestled between the most beautiful mountains of the Carpathians and it was quite the idyllic scene as you drove in. The sun casted dramatic shadows from the clouds above over green peaks and valleys. You could make out the Braşov Hollywood-like sign that gleamed on top of mount Tâmpa. The warm, late August air blew through the windows of your car whipping your long, wavy hair around your face as you drove through the city streets. You noted the buildings of medieval origin adorning the charming streets with a mixture of Neo-Baroque, Renaissance, and Romanesque architecture. Tourists and local neighbors walked about on the streets and sat at the picturesque cafes. You could make out the sounds of amicable laughter as you drove by and you smiled to yourself. It was nice to be back in a smaller town.
Upon arriving at the address of your new apartment you found that it conveniently sat atop of one of the town’s many cafes. Smells of fresh coffee and warm bread overwhelmed your senses as you parked your vehicle and you made your way into the building. You promptly met the owner of the building who was a nice elderly gentleman named Petre. He gave you the rundown of rent and rules of the lease before obtaining your signature.
“Your Română is very good for an Americana,” the rosy-faced man noted as he handed you a set of keys.
“Thank you! I’ve been living in România for three years now, so now I just need to work on my accent,” you responded, blushing as this was the first time someone complimented your Romanian.
“Very good,” he said in English whilst giving you a thumbs up before continuing in Romanian: “If you need anything, my wife, Valeria, and I live just below you. Don’t hesitate to call on us, that is, if it’s at a decent hour.” He gave you a wink and bid you farewell.
You found the interior of the apartment to be minimalistic and modern, quite the juxtaposition from the medieval plastered façade of the building. It was a simple one bedroom apartment complete with a full kitchen, living room, and bathroom. Even though it was small, the open floored concept allowed the space to feel quite nice. The living room area contained a gray, modern looking couch with a coffee table and a medium flat screen TV mounted to the opposing wall. An empty bookcase sat in one corner along with a desk you would certainly make use of during the semester. The walls were painted an off white, however the exposed red-brick wall in the kitchen brought warmth to the place. The bedroom, you found, was also quite satisfactory with a queen-sized bed with matching nightstands and a mahogany armoire to store your clothes.
As you walked through your new home a wave of sorrow washed over you. You recalled looking through photos of this exact apartment nearly eight months ago with the woman who was supposed to move here with you today. The one you planned on marrying one day. The one who said that she would love you forever and never hurt you.
The one who…
“Fuck.” Eight months felt like eons ago and fate had taken you elsewhere, but the pain still lingered.
Why did it linger so?
Fighting back tears you noticed that you had crumpled the copy of your lease as well as the print out of your welcome letter from Dr. Beneviento. Uncrumpling the paper, you reread over what time you were supposed to meet her. Your meeting was not until 4:00 PM which gave you a little over two hours to get settled. The next hour or so was spent unpacking, mainly just clothes, books, art supplies, and music records from your car before you headed out.
The University of Transilvania was located on the opposite side of town near the historic center. You were glad that you had finally invested in a vehicle as the buses were not always reliable in smaller towns and walking would prove to be a pain, especially in winter.
Arriving at the University you admired the façade of the main building. It was just as grand and charming as the town of Braşov itself with its Neo-Renaissance style architecture. You smiled as you admired the impressive Sgraffito paintings that embellished the top of the structure.
You had fortunately arrived early enough so that you could explore the interior of the building. Today was actually your first day on campus as you had initially interviewed with Dr. Beneviento over the phone and secondly over a zoom call. It was unusual to have not had an in-person interview, nonetheless you were grateful you didn’t have to travel back and forth.
You followed the signs that directed towards the art department. Today you would be meeting with Dr. Beneviento, as well as the head of your department and your new mentor, Dr. Alcina Dimitrescu. She was the reason you were so interested in this fellowship to begin with as you were mesmerized by her publication regarding the modern implications of the Archaic Greek poet, Sappho, and Sapphic references throughout art history. It was her only published work, but it was enough to make you want to study under her. Her main specialty otherwise pertained to western art history which is what you were seeking in your postdoc, specifically that of the Baroque, Rococo, Romanticism, and Art Nouveau periods.
Approaching the office of Dr. Dimitrescu, a faint, sweet scent wafted its way from her closed door. It smelled so nice. You continued to walk by, however, as your first meeting was to be with Dr. Beneviento whose office was conveniently next door. You knocked and the door was promptly opened for you.
Dr. Donna Beneviento was extraordinarily more beautiful in person than she was through the zoom video as she had more noticeably soft facial features and a lovely smile. Her long, black hair was neatly put together in a bun with a few stray bangs that framed her face. Her eyes were dark brown, but you could have sworn you saw flecks of gold in them. A black, velvety blouse adorned her torso which tucked neatly into a high waisted, long black skirt. She looked like she could be your age, but she had such a youthful beauty about her that it was possible she could be in her thirties. Damn, if it wasn’t that she was technically your superior you would have considered asking her out.
“Hello, Dr. Vos. I am Dr. Beneviento,” she spoke with a kind, soft voice. She held her hand out to you which you found to be quite cold, yet soft.
“Oh please, call me Aurelia. I hardly feel like a doctor.” You blushed.
Dr. Beneviento politely smiled at you and you couldn’t tell if she was blushing also, but she ushered for you to enter. She looked slightly uncomfortable in your presence, but it was most likely that she was an introverted individual. She was otherwise quite friendly and you could tell she was trying to make you feel more comfortable in her office.
“Would you like some tea? Or coffee perhaps?” She politely asked.
“Oh, sure, I would love some tea.”
You sat down at the armchair that was situated next to her desk. You glanced around her office as she made the tea. The walls were decorated with a plethora of paintings, a mixture of oil based and watercolors. She also had some interesting doll sculptures displayed on her bookshelves. Your eyes lingered a bit longer on a rather peculiar, ventriloquist-appearing doll that wore a white veil and dress. You recalled that she was one of the heads of the Fine Arts department at the University, but she mainly taught three-dimensional design studies as well as the studio arts.
The woman nervously placed the cup of tea in front of you. She swiftly sat at her desk and quietly cleared her throat. “Dr. Dimitrescu is currently in a meeting with the president. These meetings most certainly go on for an eternity so you will not be able to meet with her until tomorrow. Otherwise, I will help you fill out the necessary paperwork and give you the rundown on everything.”
“Oh, okay sounds good to me.” You were a little bummed as you had been excited to meet your new mentor. Nevertheless, your meeting could wait.
The meeting with Dr. Beneviento lasted a few hours as you discussed your arrangements. You were to be working at the university as an adjunct professor teaching at least two survey courses into Western Art History to freshmen undergraduates. This would earn you a fair living stipend as well as pay for your education while you completed your studies under Dr. Dimitrescu. By the end of the meeting you had begrudgingly finalized all the necessary paperwork. So much paperwork that you thought it might have drowned you. At least the tea she made was delightful as well as the delicious cookies she had graciously offered you after your stomach made an audible gurgling sound. She bid you farewell for the night and instructed you to return to the University tomorrow at 10 am sharp for your new meeting time with Dr. Dimitrescu.
Before heading back to your apartment for the night you decided to check out a bar around the corner from the university called “The Library.” Quite the ironic name, you thought as you walked towards the grungy appearing building. It looked like a dive bar, but you always loved these types of places as they reminded you of similar bars in your hometown.
Upon entering the bar, it smelled of old leather and tobacco and the air was filled with the sounds of warm jazz tones. There were only a few other patrons littered throughout which was most likely due to the fact that the University would not be in session for another week and a half. You promptly sat at the bar, the flimsy old bar stool swaying as you took your seat, and flagged down the bartender to order a whiskey on the rocks. You needed something to relax yourself from this stressful day of moving. Hoping to further distract yourself, you opened your phone and began doom scrolling on social media.
“Hard day?” A warm, sultry voice sounded from the right, breaking you out of your trance. You were slightly jarred as you did not recall having sat next to anyone. Glancing up from your phone you noticed a cross-legged woman wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck tucked into high waisted tweed slacks that hugged curved thighs. Ornate jewelry of gold and pearls decorated her neck, wrists, and ears. This regal woman appeared quite tall, even without the designer black stilettos she wore. She appeared quite expensive and certainly out of place in this dingy bar. Golden eyes met your own as a wolfish smile spread across full, crimson painted lips. She leaned in closer, giving you a view of her well endowed cleavage that was visible through the slit in her shirt. A sweet perfume with notes of vanilla, bourbon, and tobacco enveloped your senses. How long had she been sitting there?
“I always order whiskey when I have had a trying day,” she said and then continued to sip her own drink.
“Oh, well sort of. I just moved here and I’m starting a new job tomorrow, so I guess you could say I am a bit… anxious?” You gave her a nervous laugh which caused her to sharply inhale. You didn’t know if it was something you said, but you looked down at the drink the bartender placed in front of you. Quickly taking a sip, you tried your damnedest not to scowl as the liquid burned its way down your throat. A moment of silence passed as you nervously combed a hand through the wavy curls of your hair.
“May I ask where you are from? I detect an accent.” You glanced at her again, this time taking in the details of her face. The low light of the bar casted dramatic shadows across ethereal features. She had short, raven black hair that framed her porcelain face with perfect curls. Smile lines traced the corners of her eyes and mouth making her all the more stunning. She was perhaps in her early 40’s. But her eyes! By the gods, her eyes were of a golden honey which you had never seen the likes of before. You could feel a blush forming as the beautiful woman awaited your response which earned you a small chuckle.
“I’m from the States, but I’ve been in România for 3 years now. I was previously in Bucureşti,” you finally responded, giving her a polite smile back.
“Where in the States?”
“A small town in Michigan,” you said as you took another sip of your stiff drink.
The woman hummed as she turned to face the bar once more. “Michigan…” Her eyes drifted towards the ceiling as if she were lost in a daydream. “Once upon a time I performed at the Fox Theater there in Detroit.”
“Really? Are you a singer or something?” You became curious about this mysterious woman.
“In a past life, yes I was a singer. Classical jazz, mostly.”
“Huh, very cool. I’ve seen a couple of shows at the Fox. It’s such a very pretty venue.”
She continued to swirl her drink before locking eyes with you again and smiled. “It’s very gorgeous indeed.” Her low, timbered voice rolled off her lips with such ease. You felt another blush rising in your cheeks. The few sips of whiskey were beginning to hit you quite hard and you tried to push certain thoughts aside. Out of nervousness, you slammed the remainder of your drink. The woman giggled.
“Would you like something other than whiskey?” She asked, leaning closer once more. “I recommend a Hugo spritz. Try mine.” She pushed her drink in front of you with a grin and you felt obliged to take her offer. Upon sipping the beverage, this had to have been one of the most delicious beverages you had ever tasted. Flavors of elderflower and mint melted with that of the aperitif and prosecco.
“Oh, wow. That’s really good, but I really shouldn't,” you nearly fumbled over your words. God, you have always been such a lightweight. As much as this woman was alluring, you did not want to get drunk before your first day.
“Surely, one more will not hurt. Please, consider it my treat to welcome you to Braşov,” she said as she placed a hand on your arm for just a brief moment. You nearly gasped at her cool touch which left you with goosebumps.
“S-sure. But just one more,” you said as you gave her another nervous smile. She promptly ordered the two of you another drink. You sat in silence for a moment as the bartender poured each drink until he placed them in front of the two of you.
“Welcome to Braşov,'' the woman toasted as she held her glass up.
“Thank you for the warm welcome” you nodded back, holding your own glass up to her.
“It is my pleasure,” she hummed. This woman put out an aura, it was hard to define. But it was alluring and oh so inviting. You couldn’t tell if she was flirting, but you didn’t care. She was incredibly attractive and she smelled so enticing. What was that perfume? It smelled so oddly familiar…
Leaning in closer, you felt brave from the alcohol. “So, tell me more about being a singer?” You questioned, giving her a smirk.
“Well,” she said, flashing you a charming, yet mischievous smile back. “What is it that you would like to know?”
An hour passed, or perhaps it was two, but the pair of you managed to have talked about everything and nothing at all. You were fairly tipsy by this point, bordering on drunk as you had ordered another drink, but you did not mind anymore. This woman’s presence was all you wanted. You suddenly found yourself craving her, wanting her…
Your sudden thoughts of desire caught you off guard. The woman had also suddenly stopped talking as if she had read your mind. Her eyebrows knitted together a moment in contemplation before turning back to you. Another smirk spread across her face, her beautiful smile lines becoming more visible. She placed a cool hand on your thigh. It remained there for a moment and you shivered at her touch.
“Well, darling, I unfortunately must bid you farewell as I have other things to attend to this evening. It has been… rather a pleasure.” She purred as she stood up from her seat, her hand still on your thigh.
“Can I ask for your name?” You asked, dumbfounded that you had never introduced each other’s names.
The woman simply hummed in response, ignoring your question. Her thumb brushed along your inner thigh as she retreated her hand. You shivered again. “Perhaps, I will see you here again, my Americana,” She said with a wink and then walked out of the bar leaving you in a wake of speechless bliss.