CHAPTER 39| Hangout.

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AZALEA'S POV:

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AZALEA'S POV:

THE CLOUDS cast a soft, dark shadow over the small shops scattered around in the unfamiliar place. Annoyed, I lazily drag my feet against the cobblestone streets. Leaves lay lifeless on the concrete. Matteo happily skips by my side. I notice that the more we venture through the streets, the less homely and friendly the markets look. Now, tall, melancholy buildings tower over us, graffiti and drawings scattered all over them. Shivers run down my spine, but I can't tell if it's from the cold breeze or fear or uncertainty―

I don't notice Matteo had stopped until my nose bashes into his chest, and for the second time today, I fall on my butt.

"Shit," I groan, rolling my eyes. My hands cup my nose.

"Oh crap― are you okay?" His tone is slightly panicked.

I nod and roll my eyes again, taking his hand and bringing myself up.

"It's not bleeding, is it?" He asks, bringing my hands down and inspecting them.

"I'm fine, don't worry," I dismiss him, not wanting to further delay the trip.

He happily nods and smiles, then turns to his left, facing a rusted, old van. My eyebrows furrow.

"Is this the amusement park?" I joke, confused.

"Why yes, it actually is," He smiles, playing along, and as a result, I chuckle.

He knocks on the window, and a middle-aged man pops up. He rolls down the glass and smiles, almost instantly recognizing Matteo.

"Matteo, how have you been, boy?" He greets, flashing his pearly whites at him. I don't think he's noticed me yet.

"I'm good, Adam. Thanks," He grins. "Adam, this is Azalea, Azalea, this is Adam."

"Hi," I wave, smiling.

"Nice to meet you," He waves back energetically. I grin at him.

It's nice to meet new, happy people once in a while.

"You want ice cream?" he turns to me again, smiling. I slowly nod, still confused.

"We're getting ice cream, keep up," he deadpans, seeing my confused face.

"I'm not physic, Matteo," I respond, slightly embarrassed.

"Never said you were." he smirks before focusing back on Adam. "What flavor do you want, Azalea?"

I think about it for a moment. I don't think I've tried ice cream since London, but when I was there in London me and V (Vincent) would get it a lot and I'd always get cookies and cream, but I don't know if he'd have it―

"Cookies and cream, please." The words come out my mouth, successfully cutting out a session of overthinking.

His grin gets impossibly larger as he spins around, probably to start our ice cream.

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