𝔛𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯𝔞

Prologue

This is a series of one-shots that I decided to make into a story, don't think too much about the plot :)

Prologue is just about how three of the main characters meet.

Sorin Dalca was my best friend...is my best friend, my first friend. Ever. 

From the first day I met him when I was 7 and he was 9, I knew I'd never meet anyone like him. 

He was so cool, still is. 

The first time I met him I was staying with my uncle for the summer...far away from Russia. Uncle Zeke. He lived in the South of Italy. It was warm and everyone was nice and friendly...mostly.

There were rows and rows of people laying in the park, by the beach, in the water. It was like the whole country was on vacation day in and day out. Like it was against the law to not relax and enjoy the sun.

Uncle Zeke lived in a community of his own. Friends his age, a pretty Italian wife he married when they were both teenagers, Poppy. His house had such a lovely vintage look as it stood in the midst of the multi-acre vineyard that he and Poppy ran together. The house always smelled of fruits and flowers. Birds everywhere. 

He always had people over. Neighbours who lounged in the vineyard sipping wine all the time. Mr and Mr De Luca, Dr and Dr Ghio-Gucci, Miss Kai and her boyfriend Zolack and the Dalcas. Only to name a few.

I had just gotten off a 3+ hour flight,  my first time away from my parents, away from the cold. The first time I'd ever felt warm. My English wasn't so great, my Italian even worse. 

"Don't worry. No one's gonna make fun of your accent." 

He could always read my mind. That made me happy.

 I looked at him as he drove us to his home and smiled feeling a tiny bit of comfort. 

We drove with the sound of Italian Pop on the radio blasting through the car. Loud and very aggressive. I couldn't understand a thing but it made my heart beat fast, even faster when I saw a huge cream coloured house with even larger acres of land come into view. Miles and miles of grapes, vines and green, everything so green. 

"Everyone...here?" As we got out, there were many voices coming from everywhere and my palms got sweaty. I took my hand out of my uncles and wiped it across my lap. 

"Mostly, but they're nice I promise."

"Pro-me?"

"Promise, it means, I'm telling the truth I guess."

"Truth, you are truth, you are not lie?" 

Uncle Zeke chuckled at my comment. "I am not lie, very poetic. But yes, I'm not."

I nod in agreement as we got closer to the tent full of people. Clinging to my uncle's hand and the strap of my tiny backpack. 

As we got closer my heart beat faster and faster till I was dizzy, it felt like my heart was beating through my teeth. 

"Ciao a tutti, salutate mia nipote Ximera!"

"Ciao XIMERA!" My name echoed through the tent as people I did not know came up to me and pinched my cheeks. They told me I was so cute and asked about my curly black hair, amongst other things. 

"le sue guance sono così morbide!" her cheeks are so soft

"assomiglia a te!" she looks like you

"così piccolo e adorabile" so tiny and adorable.

I felt so overwhelmed, so tired. 

Thankfully my uncle grabbed me and placed my head on his shoulder. 

"lei e 'stanca" she's tired

Always reading my mind. I could tell even when we weren't speaking the same language. 

I yawned for emphasis and we were gone as soon as we got there. 

"Since you're so tired you better not get off this bed." Uncle Zeke tried to be serious sometimes but he could never stay serious. Soon enough he was blowing raspberries on my tummy and tickling me till I said "Mercy" whatever that meant. He just said I should say it so he would stop.

"Goodnight curly." I cringed at the nickname, he'd given it to me when I was just born and was mostly made of curly hair that hid my face.

"spokoynoy nochi dyadya" goodnight uncle.

I closed my eyes but as soon as the door shut I swung out of bed, grabbed as many books as possible and stacked it under the widow till I could see through it. 

I watched as people drank wine, danced and sang. I'd never seen this before, Russia was a happy place, but in a different way, an indoor way. People were happy inside. We drank spirits, not wine, chanted and raved rather than swayed. 

It all looked different. Adults everywhere with only a few kids in sight. One in particular, in the corner, playing with a board, jumping around it, over it as the other kids watched him in amusement. He looked like the kind of person everyone liked or wanted to be. 

So cool. He was someone I couldn't be. That's what made me like him.

a/n 

not edited sorry