Get Over Sherlock And Find Someone Else With A Nice Ass To Have Fun With - Tumblr Posts
Seriously though, Roberto deserves someone.
He's a good man (or at least has been) .
I'm invested.
I would gladly read a "getting over Sherlock Holmes" fic with him as the main character.

Another excerpt from Inferno (working title), the sequel to @totallysilvergirl's Drawn to Stars. Let's get Roberto Zanardi's POV.
Per carità di dio. I thought I was braced for seeing him again. Yet when I walk into the case room, I’m seared once again by the same lightning bolt as when I first laid eyes on him back at New Scotland Yard.
He’s still so beautiful, painfully so, and my heart constricts in my chest. The rumpled white linen shirt, his dark glasses dangling from the pocket. He looks warm, his raven curls a bit damp. The years we’ve been apart fall away and I have to look away lest my attraction become too apparent, so I can’t gauge his reaction to seeing me.
But I can and do register John Watson’s fury at recognising me — he curses that he should have known.
Ah, Valentina hasn’t told them I’m the team leader. I’d urged Alfiero not to name names, lest it lead to an instant refusal. And perhaps that would have been wiser; if he’d known, would Watson have allowed this meeting to take place? For that matter, would Sherlock have agreed to come?
I’ve been completely torn, my heart divided against my head. I’m late to this meeting because I had to try once more to convince Alfiero to do without Holmes and Watson, only to be overruled yet again. I left that rendezvous both dejected by my failure to persuade him and oddly agitated at seeing Sherlock again. I must be honest, too; the case has been going badly enough for the past two months that I can use all the help I can get. But at what price?
......
So many times I’ve realised at the end of a difficult case that it would have been quicker and so much better if Sherlock had been working with me. From the very beginning, back in London on that trafficking case, it had been my fantasy to entice him to Rome, not just to my bed but to my side, as my partner. Together, we’d have been invincible.
Yet now, when the opportunity presents itself, I find myself hesitating. Of course, John Watson complicates things. The man who squandered his chances to love Sherlock had whistled, and Sherlock had gone running back to him, leaving me broken. At least he’d had the decency to marry him. Under Italian law I couldn’t do that even if he had wanted me to.
But he did want me, once. He didn’t just say it, he showed it. If that month with him hadn’t been so intoxicating I could have accepted it when he left me; but we were good together, I know we were. I saw how he blossomed when we became lovers, how his body relished being worshipped, how he loved bringing me to my knees. Conversation was easy, dancing was just another form of lovemaking, and he was happy with me in Rome. Until he wasn’t.
So despite wanting Sherlock to work his not-exactly-magic on the case, I’m apprehensive about working with him on it. Am I even capable of behaving normally around him? Functioning normally? To go by my racing thoughts and distracting memories, I may not be; I’m barely keeping up my end of the conversation, fading in and out of my memories of the past (and perhaps, wishes for the future). And this case is vital. Definitely dangerous, too: all the more so with Sherlock as a clear and present distraction. If he does join me, will he be more help or hindrance?