"I bet he did." She smirks at me, and I roll my eyes.
But yeah, he did… and they, too, were hot and steamy.
We venture closer to the mud pool. Its surface is shrouded in a veil of swirling mist, but the mud isn't bubbling. The air is heavy with the earthy scent of minerals, hinting at geothermal heat. The mud appears thick and gooey, inviting yet mysterious.
"El, this is amazing. I can't wait to get in later."
"Why wait? Let's kick back and relax here while the guys explore the cave."
"No way. We can't let them have all the fun."
"Fun? You realize there's probably nothing in that cave, and it's going to be utterly boring."
"You're not getting out of it, El," she singsongs. "Oh look, there's a sign on that big rock."
I turn my head and spot the wooden sign perched on a small ledge. I don't remember seeing it. But then I was rather preoccupied with my hot Italian.
"What does it say?" I ask.
"It's in Italian." Duh. "It says 'La Piscina dell'Eternità'."
"Hmm, what does that mean?"
"Piscinais something like fish, isn't it?" Rhia replies, scratching her chin. "AndEternitàsounds like eternity."
"So I guess it means anyone who bathes here will never be short of fish," I jest, and we both burst into giggles.
I run my fingers over the carved writing on the sign. It's not as neat as I would have imagined; a little amateur, even.
Did Tiero make this himself?
There's so much I don't know about the man who gave me his heart.
How could I?
We were only together for a few weeks, and except for the first ten days, they couldn't have been more stressful. Yet despite our short-lived relationship, he imprinted himself on my very essence.
"El, there's something else," Rhia says, disrupting my thoughts. "It's some sort of urn, an old-fashioned container hidden in a hollow in the rock."
She pulls it out and inspects it. "There's something carved into the clay…'L'olio essenziale'."
"Essential oil? Is that to pamper the bather more?" I wonder.
"Amazing. They thought of everything?"
"What does it smell like?" I ask, curious.
Rhia takes the lid of the urn and peeks inside.
"Hmm, there's a glass spray bottle inside. The label says the same thing.L'olio essenziale."
Unscrewing the cap, she sniffs the contents and grimaces, scrunching up her nose.
"It's not essential oil. More like some sort of olive oil. But I think it's off. It really doesn't smell that good. I don't think I want that on my skin."
She puts the bottle back inside the clay urn, replaces the lid, and puts the container back where she found it.
"I wonder how warm the mud is?" she muses before kneeling down on the edge to dip her elbow in the mud to test the temperature.