Never Alone, Always Running

Incompiuto Amore

"Raven!"

The voice startled me, as most voices were lost over the deafening roar of the bombs that rained from the sky on days such as these. However, the bombs were nothing new. Ever since the start of the war, you could often hear the bombs from the neighboring country of France, due to the fact that we lived in the city or Vercelli, an Italian city fairy close to the French-Italian border. Because of this, no one was fazed by the blasts. You see, we'd chosen to remain neutral, just as Switzerland had in this war and all wars prior. To me, it was like 'Università di Vercelli,' the school I attended, was a safe-haven from the war, as was the rest of Italy.

So now, as I walked across the campus to my dorm, I wondered who could possibly break through the noise of the bombs. Curious, I casually glanced over my shoulder, seeing a figure in the distance gently silhouetted by the slowly setting sun that was just now beginning to dip below the horizon. The silhouette slowly began to glisten away as the figure approached me, and I soon recognized him as Jessê Santiago, a foreign exchange student from Spain, who just so happened to be the captain of the Rugby and Soccer teams hosted on campus, the Vercelli Angels. It now made sense as to why I could hear him so clearly, as he was know for his ferocity and angry spirit when he played sports.

"What is it?"

I had to strain my voice so that he could hear me over the bombs, but I was only half paying attention to him. I clicked open my briefcase and slipped some artwork I'd been working on inside, oblivious to the fact that I'd only shut the briefcase halfway when I went to close it.

"Oh, I was just hoping I could talk to you for a few minutes," He said coolly as he approached, offering a small wave before letting his arm fall back to his side.

Weird. He wanted to talk? I mean, sure, I'd wave when I'd saw him in the hallway, and he'd wave back, but aside from that I'd never associated myself with him. We never just 'Talked.' The only reason I knew who he was was because of his esteemed performance on the field.

"I guess..." I answered mildly, having mixed feeling about why exactly he'd want to talk to me. I didn't understand in the slightest.

"Well I was wondering, there's a pa-"

It was then my briefcase flew open, sending countless papers spiraling into the sky. I felt my face go red with embarrassment as I mumbled an apology, reaching out for all the papers I could grab before they were lost in the late autumn breeze that blew across the area. Jessê was quick to help me collect the drawings, and I was surprised that he was so gentle with his hands as he picked up each paper. He formed a neat stack in his arms as he continued to pick them up, brushing off any dirt that may have swept onto the drawings as they scattered across the ground.

It was then his fingers brushed along a certain drawing, and he froze. He never added it to the stack, but instead stared down at it with curiosity and interest. I couldn't see exactly which drawing it was, but whatever it was obviously had him enthralled.

"So, who exactly is that supposed to be?"

He finally turned the drawing around for me to see, and I quickly recognized the drawing as the drawing I was currently working on for my mid-term in art: 'Fuoco-volare Amore,' which translates into 'Fire-fly Love.' The picture was of me, standing under the gently drooping blossoms of a weeping willow. However, I wasn't alone in the gentle glow of the moonlight. Fire-flies danced around the anonymous figure I was with, due to the fact that I'd only drawn the base of the character. Whoever he was, I seemed captivated in him, as if he was the answer to everything I'd ever known. Just beyond the gentle canopy of the weeping willow tree was a crisp blue lake, whose waters reflected the elegance of the fire-flies and the moon that shone above it, making it appear as if the lake was a living creature itself. The lake had a gentle ripple to it, caused by the smooth yet chilling wind that brushed along it's surface, which also caused the soft yellow sundress I wore to gently flutter around my knees in a almost magical manner, along with my freely-flowing brown hair. Green grass acted as a cushion for my bare feet, tying the whole picture together with it's marvelously vivid color.