Leonardo still had to reign him in like a child at times. All it took was a heavy hand at his shoulder — and an even heavier pull, one that usually knocked him off balance and left Wilsa grabbing his other shoulder to save him. He thanked her with a soft smile, and for a short while turned his attention back to the Magister and his friend. The spices in the baskets, as bright and fragrant as they were, were only interesting for a time, and soon Luca was again looking across the market.
The young man — just barely, he was easily years younger than Luca (at least, physically) — stood out. He was beautiful. Old world beautiful, with softer roman features than Luca had. Like the marble gods and goddesses that were still praised today. He matched them in pallor as well, though, his skin so fair that it almost surprised Luca that he didn’t share Wilsa’s European characteristics. He could have looked at the young man all night and into the day, had he the will for it.
It was almost enough to bruise his pride and ask Leonardo to do it for him.
“You’ll turn him to stone if you keep staring like that,” Leonardo mused, a lecturing bite to his words.
Luca bit his tongue, Wilsa blushed for him.
“I could swear I’ve seen him before,” he whispered to her. She nodded, but it was just passive encouragement, and he chose to pay it no mind. When no harm could come from it, she generally let him run his course.
“We’ve been at this market every night for the last three,” Leonardo said between bartering with the merchant. He pointed out spices that most couldn’t afford, and Luca glanced back to watch the merchant eagerly fill and measure pouches and jars for them. With every trade of silver for the spices, Leonardo handed Wilsa something to put into the basket she was carrying.
Luca dealt with the possibility that the Magister was right. That he had simply seen this young man one of their previous nights at the market, in passing. What he knew for certain was that he wasn’t mistaking him for anyone else, such a thing would be impossible to do.
“I...” Luca whispered, choosing not to finish his thought aloud. He wanted to meet this boy that was standing across the market. He wanted to meet him, and if only for their short time in Turkey, know him, and call him a friend. They so rarely became close to people, knowing they would have to disappear from their lives without word in just a few years.
That was one thing Luca had never prepared for. It was one thing he and Wilsa hadn’t known prior to their gifts. It was one thing, of how many Luca didn’t know, that Leonardo had kept from telling them, maybe in an attempt to keep from breaking their spirits.
Luca sighed, looking over his shoulder and watching Leonardo talk with another merchant; watching Wilsa keeping an eye on both the Magister and the Illusionist she stood between. He caught her eye and smiled at her. Of course she would always be enough for him, the one constant friend that he would never have to leave behind.
But he couldn’t be blamed for wanting to know someone else in his lifetime, forever long as it was.
When he looked back at the young man across the market, his surprise that they met eyes was almost enough to make Luca want to stop him still. Swallowing, he licked his lips and blinked, only to find they were still staring at each other when his eyes opened.
Luca held his breath and took one step forward. When he wasn’t stopped, he took another, and then a third. It was on the fourth that Leonardo’s hand wrapped strongly around his arm and yanked him back. Wilsa wasn’t there to help him catch his balance, and he fell back into the man’s chest with a grunt.
“What harm could I do,” he muttered, brushing the wrinkles from his sleeves and looking once to the young man. Curiosity laced his features, and maybe, Luca thought, a smile at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to break into a run, no matter the repercussions he would face later, and just say hello. Introduce himself. Make a friend.
“Plenty,” Leonardo said, dashing Luca’s hopes then and there.
“Luca,” Wilsa whispered, easily grabbing his attention. He turned towards her and, seeing the calm in her face, found his own. She readjusted the basket in her arm, her other hand waving at him with a small flick of her wrist. “Come away.”
“How is that any fair,” he whispered, upset, into her ear while he wrapped an arm around her waist and took the basket from her to carry. He kissed her temple when she leaned into him, but his mind didn’t settle.
“He’s only looking out for us. You are, silly Luca, quite a task.”
In a sigh, he laughed, and with one look over his shoulder, he tried to find the young man again in the crowd. When he couldn’t, he frowned, and in instinct held Wilsa closer.
“If he’s here at market again tomorrow night, I will introduce myself.”
“All you did was look at him, Luca. You don’t know a thing about him.” Wilsa’s words were cautious, telling. Always the voice of reason that he wanted to follow, but he couldn’t explain it this time.
“It’s a feeling, Wilsa. There’s something different about him. I want to know what. And what good is this gift if we spend our entire lives keeping our heads and hearts away from people. Think about it: had I met Leonardo before I had met you, my Wilsa, surely he would have kept us apart.”
Wilsa was the one to stand still, then. He licked away the smile that tickled his bottom lip, and turned to face her when she did. He tried not to think much on what he had just said, for it would have been a very real fact in their lives had the Magister found him when he was still just a child. To think of a day without his Wilsa pinched something in his stomach, and he reached out for her hand.
“If he’s here again tomorrow night...”
“If we’re here again tomorrow night, and you see him, you can say hello. But I won’t stop Leonardo if and when he chooses to smack you across the back of the head for it.”
Luca grinned.
“Tomorrow, then.”