Annaliese always craved a family. She desired a warm father, caring brothers, a loving mother and adoring sisters. Maybe even a dog or a cat. But, they were desired for a reason.
She never had a family to call her own, not since she was abandoned o...
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"Turn that shit off, it's making my ears bleed," Fransesco complains, hitting the back of Luca's seat. I yawn quietly and watch as Luca pops the middle finger over his shoulder.
I lift my head off of Marcello's shoulder in confusion. I tug at the sleeve of his jacket to get his attention, as he was listening to music through his earbuds. He takes one out and looks at me. "What does the middle finger thing mean?"
Marcello sends a glare to a laughing Fransesco and cringing Luca. I fall deeper into his side when he lifts his arm and wraps it around me, forcing my eyes to be hidden in his jacket. His subtle cologne relaxes me and I decide to hold the question off for later.
"Wow, I thought you knew better than that Luc," Fransesco taunts, leaning back in his seat with a wide smirk on his lips. The driver glances at him in the mirror.
Luca turns around from the passenger seat and glares scarily to Fransesco. I lift my head slightly from Marcello's hold to watch outside of the window. The city began to be overcome by a thick forest and after a few turns, the longest road I've ever seen comes into view.
"You don't have to look so skeptical," Fransesco's voice sounds right in my ear. I practically jump out of my skin and snap my head to him with wide eyes. Marcello pushes him away from me but it doesn't do much. "Have you never seen a tree before?"
I frown at him. "Of course I've seen a tree before."
"Really?" He asks mockingly, poking between my brows. "It doesn't seem like it."
I scowl at him and he pushes my head back into Marcello. Marcello sighs and takes out on of his earbuds, passing one to me. "Just ignore him," He mutters. I grin smugly at Fransesco and put it in my ear.
"Won't let you talk me, down."
I didn't expect the song that played in my ears. I figured Marcello would've been more interested in loud, harsh, music. Instead, a gentle voice with a guitar in the background filled the silence.
I relax into his side and close my eyes, absorbing the words with delicacy. I remember meeting street players every once in a while. I learned of many different instruments like guitars, keyboards, and trumpets. I fell in love with every sound. They each had their unique way of livening the city and bringing civilians together.
A while ago, when I was still adjusting to living on the streets, I met a tall woman who played the violin. She would let me sit by her while she played and I would watch as the people who walked past sent her appreciative glances. Some even stopped to listen for longer if they had time. This woman had such magic within her that she was able to make the angriest man into a skipping little girl.
When I sat with her, she would teach me the lyrics to the songs she played. I was never great at singing them but that didn't stop her from encouraging me to. She would even buy me books with the money she collected and I was able to learn how to read and write. Sometimes they would be about science or history, math or old literature. Whatever it was, I studied it and memorized it with all my might.
