Rosa Giovenesi's P. O. V
Wind brushes over the apples of my cheeks and the bridge of my nose as I shrink back into my own embrace. My boots crunch and crackle underneath the pile of scattered dead leaves as I put one foot in front of the other. The weather forecast was all wrong, but I don't hate it. It almost feels fitting. As if the skies above are humouring me and letting me have this day to myself, theatrics and all.
Tightening my grasp on the object in my hand, I keep my head bowed, choosing to focus on the cement grey of the path that creates a foot walk on either side of the trimmed grass rather than on the heavens above. I don't need to look at it to know, to envision the sullen inclement weather that awaits me. The clouds overhead are swollen and sullen, promising a tempest to come and leave everything drenched in its wake. I take in a deep breath and exhale slowly as fresh smells permeate through the air.
If the overcast clouds weren't a sign, the thick smell of damp soil confirms any and every suspicion.
It's as if every muscle in my body has memorised the path to the point I could walk here even with no memory of the place. Taking a few more steps and diverting off of the path a little, I come to a final stop as I stare down at the sight before me. A swell of emotions threatens to overtake my senses, but a firm shake of my head keeps me grounded. I bend down and plant my jean clad knees on the floor, the damp grass soaking into the rather thin fabric and staining the material with green and sepia.
Tentatively, my hand reaches out and clears the few specks of dust on the dark granite stone. Cool the touch and sending shivers down my spine. My fingers dip down into the rough engravings, tracing over each letter as they spell out the word that weighs me down like an anchor. The word that crosses my mind each and every fleeting moment first with sorrow, then regret and finally an unsettling angry emotion that roils around within me, unable to lift the burden off of my shoulders.
Hanging my head low, I lean forward till my forehead touches smooth and numbing stone. I take in a few deep breaths to calm myself and keep my head steady.
"I'm sorry for not visiting you sooner, mother." University has kept me busy but I've graduated now. I'm following in your footsteps." I pause to let out a hollow laugh, tucking a dark strand of hair behind my ear.
"I came to apologise. I'll be gone for a short while. I can already hear you chewing me out for leaving you like this, but don't worry. I'll be back." A clap of thunder overhead makes me jump and I nearly let out a loud swear word but keep it in at the last moment.
Even in death, I know my mother won't hesitate to find some way so she can slap me upside the head. I won't even be surprised if she scared me on purpose a second ago. A berating at leaving her alone and without flowers to decorate her final resting place.
"You're oddly quiet. Bad sense of humour, I know." I continue after a beat. Sighing, I slump down some more. My attention turning to the object in my hand as I place it down on the lush grass underneath me. "I brought your favourite. A Chrysanthemum. Cherish it and I'll come back with a lot more next time."
I gently caress the silken white petals, smooth to the touch and reminding me of just how delicate they are. One wrong move and the stem could lay bare with the lack of blossoms. A tapered stalk slightly imperfect follows the flows of my fingertips next, the slight nobs something my mother favoured. A funny looking stem was always perfection in her eyes.
Standing up, I ignore the clicking and cracking of my joints, and brush non existent dust off of my mother's gravestone. Anything to prolong my time here. Taking in one last deep breath, the first drop of rain hits me square on the nose, which causes me to nod.
"I should get going. Arrivederci mama." A subtle wave is followed as my eyes trace over the words on the stone. Instead of feeling suffocated and heavy, there is a sudden weight lifted off of my shoulders and a sense of peace makes its way through me. I know I'm making the right decision.
What is that decision? I have no clue so far.
Clearly, my procrastination knows no bounds, even in a situation such as this one.
###
I'm not even halfway through my front door as I take the now damp jacket off of my shoulders, throwing my car keys into the bowl right next to the doorway as the security lock chimes in place once it locks. My apartment is located on the higher levels of the highrise building, which is why the floor to ceiling windows are an absolute Godsend, especially when it comes to mine and my roommates' nosy indulgence. The main door leads straight into a small corridor where a small table resides, along with a bowl placed right on top. This then leads straight into the main living area decorated in all shades of white with a few dark colours embedded here and there. I'm not one who knows much about how to decorate, which isn't too bad when you have an interior decorator as your bunk buddy. Adjacent to the living room is the kitchen, which gleams in the setting light outside, the marble countertops bringing a reminiscent smile to my face, along with the wooden floorboards.
The kitchen is my favourite part of the house, not only because all the food is there but well, mainly because of the food and the memories of my mother and I cooking up the worst dishes as we experimented here and there.
Our bedrooms are placed further back into the apartment, the both of us sharing a bathroom, but luckily we both have our own clothing space. I can't imagine sharing a wardrobe with the nightmare that my roommate is.
Stepping into the living room, I go to plop myself down onto the sofa when a common sight greets me. One that has me yelping in alarm as I reach out for the cushion.
"Damn it. Fen, you need to control your humping dog. She's nearly torn the pillow in half with her aggressive thrusts."
The French bulldog stares at me with the most innocent and deploring eyes, her big protruding ears flopping slightly and nearly making me give in. However, one look at the tattered fluffy cushion has me blanching and throwing the object far away from me.
"You're the horniest being I've ever come across, but you're also the smallest. You'll try humping the leg of a Great Dane one day and it won't be too pleased. That's my fair warning to you, Loco."
My words fly over the dog's head as she hops away, her attention now on a plastic ball of hers that she's nearly chewed into oblivion.
"Why are you giving my innocent dog the death stare?"
My glare doesn't phase Fen as she throws herself onto the couch, hand stuffed in a bag of hot Cheetos as she brings the snack to her mouth without a care in the world.
"She tried humping my favourite cushion. Again." Fen lets out a loud laugh at my words, mouth open and giving me a view of the crunched up food in her mouth. I grimace and motion for her to close her mouth before I end up doing it for her.
Fen knows damn well that seeing chewed up food is one of my pet peeves, but the woman knows no boundaries and annoys me with it nine times out of ten. That's when I start clicking my nails together, the sound of nails scraping driving my roommate to the brink of insanity. There are always threats being thrown around here and there with one of us shouting at how we'll leave the apartment and the other can fend for themselves when it comes to the next month's payment but of course, our threats are empty and baseless as we end up cuddled together on the couch binge watching movies with Henry Cavill.
"I'm thinking of dying my hair blonde."
I turn to Fen, eyebrow raised and getting ready for her to go on a spiel about her grand ideas which only last a few minutes before she forgets about that.
"I say go for it. You can pull anything off." My words are full of sincerity and Fen better know it. The woman was blessed with good genes, resulting in flawless skin with no dips or craters, unlike mine. Her strong bone structure which highlighted her face perfectly. High rise cheekbones, cutting jawline with deep eyes and a straight nose. The woman doesn't even need to contour with the shadows naturally cast across her face. Fen is quite tall as well, taller than I am and I wouldn't say I was short, taller than most, but Fen takes it out of the park with her long limbs that would put a model to shame.
"It'll be difficult to go from black to blonde, but I'll do it. I've already the bought the bleach."
I freeze in place, glancing from her eyes to her dark brown, practically black hair. Theatrics and all do I raise a shaking finger to my little old self as I stare at her with comically wide eyes.
"Me?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
I ponder Fen's request for a few moments, running through the countless possibilities on how this could end up in disaster, but has that ever stopped either of us? Never.
"Sure."
Three sets of gloves, multiple pieces of useless foils and two hours later, Fen and I are lounging straight back on the couch, only this time her hair is a weird mix of yellow and burnt orange.
"Some parts turned out quite nice." I'd say I was lying, but I truly wasn't. Other than the clumpy patches here and there, some strands of hair were a nice blonde colour after multiple sprays of toner and a wash of purple shampoo. "I'll call my stylist and she'll be here by twelve tomorrow."
Fen doesn't seem to be bothered by it, going back to her never ending packet of hot Cheetos as she passes the bag to me. I don't think twice as I let out a sigh and shove one of my favourite treats into my mouth. From the corner of my eye, I catch sight of Fen's foot discreetly trying to lure away her horny dog from another one of our cushions. This one not one of Lola's favourites but it sure does get her going.
I go to comment on how the poor dog does need to let out her pent up frustration, but both of them should try more conventional methods in the form of another willing participant who isn't stuffed full of cotton preferably. Before I get any sort of chance, the doorbell chimes, which causes the both of us to sit upright.
"Did you invite anyone?"
"Not that I recall." Fen doesn't seem to be bluffing, which causes me to cautiously rise up from my seat. Carefully making my way to the door, I peer through the peephole only for my eyebrows to raise in questioning.
"What on Earth is he doing here?" I mumble to myself, although my surprise doesn't get rid of the warm feeling that overtakes me still. Not wasting a further second, I unlock the door and put a bright smile on my face as I come face to face with the man.
The older man lets himself into the apartment, pulling me into a hug before brandishing a kiss on each cheek as he holds me by the shoulders and grins a cheerful smile.
"My little girl has grown up so much." Mr. Leo pulls me back into another hug. The older man looks exactly as I last saw him. Deep smile accompanied by even deeper smile lines. Scraggly stubble from a bear he's never been able to properly grow but now with flecks of white peeking through similar to the blading hair that sits at the sides of his head.
"Now, I know I have come very late but something tell's me we have to have a long conversation."
Those words are enough to let me know why Mr. Leo is here, and my previous visit to the graveyard flashes briefly through my mind.
Of course. I should have known I would be tailed. At least this man being here will let me put my plan into action quite nicely.
"Yes. I suppose we do."
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AN: Hello everyone and welcome to my latest book! I was super nervous posting this and kept putting it off for some reason but I do hope you all enjoy it and show it some love.
I'll be posting a new chapter soon so no worries about that!
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