Page 33 of Siren's Heart

"This way," he says happily and begins walking, slowing down when he realizes how quickly I need to walk to keep up with him. His eyes are on the buildings we walk by, presumably as he checks their numbers and the phone in his hand.

"Here," he says finally, and he stops in front of an archway, revealing an alley and a small shop at the end of it. I narrow my eyes, trying to read the sign on it from afar.

"Pottery?" I ask, feeling a rush of excitement building in my gut. I’ve never tried my hand at pottery!

"Yup," he tells me with a proud grin on his face. "Since you said you like creating with your hands, I figured: let's get them dirty." Then he fucking winks at me. Holy smokes.

Happiness tingles in the pit of my stomach, and I want to jump up and down, press my lips against his, and hug him as tightly as I can. A man who listens? Just propose to me now. Seriously.

I can't stop the giggle from bubbling out of me and squeeze his hand. "It’s like you’re reading my mind,” I say in awe. “I've always wanted to try it. I'm so excited!"

"Then let's go!"

It’s a tight fit walking next to each other in this alley, but we manage, our shoulders bumping against each other, making me giggle.

A soft jingle announces our entrance as we open the door to the studio. The first thing I see are walls lined with huge shelves holding various products. There are the cutest mugs and plates in various stages of creation and adorable little ashtrays that look like flowers. I don't smoke, but if I did, I'd definitely need one of those.

I come to a stand when I spot a finished cup. It's so big, perfect for cozy hot chocolate evenings in winter, and has cute heart-shaped protrusions colored in red, pink, and the most striking gold glaze for accents.

Luca gently tugs at my arm, and we walk further inside until we find a woman carrying a tray of finished ware around.

"Ah, there you are!" She greets us with a warm grin. She’s probably in her early fifties, and I can’t tell you why, but she just has incredible mom-energy.

Her kind eyes scan the two of us curiously, and her eyes grow soft when they stop at our intertwined hands.

“I’m Millie,” I let go of Luca’s hand to offer it to her, and she shakes it with a firm grip. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Mary.”

“Likewise, love.”

Luca introduces himself as well and immediately reaches for my hand again once they’ve finished their handshake.

"Well, come over here, you lovebirds. I'm Mary and I'll be your instructor for today." She catches my eyes for a moment and winks at me, before setting down her tray and guiding us over to a small room with two pottery wheels set up to face each other.

"I will give you a short introduction, and then I'll leave you to yourselves. Sound alright?" The two of us nod, and she gives us a satisfied grin. "Wonderful."

We take a seat at one pottery wheel each, getting comfortable as she sits down in front of a third one in the front of the room. Looking around, I see several more propped up against the wall. She must give courses here regularly.

The speculation intensifies when she expertly explains how to start and stop the wheels. She lets us demonstrate that we understand how to operate it, then reaches for a clump of clay and throws it onto her wheel with a satisfying spattering sound. Then she starts forming a mug.

And she makes it look so effortless. A voice inside my head whispers, 'Damn, that looks easy,' but then again, she explains that she's been throwing pottery for more than twenty years already. I’m still very convinced that I can do it. Fascinated, I watch her as she creates a lovely mug within only five minutes, her fingers and a sponge dancing over the clay with ease and grace.

"Alright, now it's your turn," she announces and hands each of us our own slab of clay. "Today you're throwing your mugs, and then you'll come back in a week or two to paint them."

When I look at Luca, I notice a satisfied grin on his face.

"Oh, you’re so smooth!" I exclaim, playfully punching his arm. So I guess I know what we'll be doing for our next date.

"What can I say? I was confident we'd go out again," he replies, chuckling. Mary watches our exchange with a fond look in her eyes, before she leaves the two of us alone to continue with her own work

Luca grins at me confidently when he slams his pile of clay onto the wheel. I shake my head and take off my sweater before I begin. Mary has the weird ovens that they will go into running, and it feels like a record-breaking summer in here: stuffy and warm. Also, it’s too cute to get covered in clay.

When I lift the hem, I feel Luca's eyes on me, his heated gaze leaving a hot trail, where they wander over my exposed skin where my top rides up my stomach a bit. Throwing the garment on a table behind us, I shoot him a wink and quickly adjust my cleavage, since the top slid down a bit as well, exposing bits of my beige bra.

Now, I finally throw the clay onto my spinning wheel, watching from the corner of my eyes as Luca squirms in his seat.

Then I watch the spinning mud. Mary made it look so intuitive, but honestly, I have no idea where to even start. Experimentally, I press against the sides to make it a uniform clump at firms. It feels wet, cold, and heavy in my hands, and unsurprisingly, it’s really hard to smooth it into shape.

But bitch, I am stronger.

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