Family First | *Rewrites in Progress*

Nonna's Diary

Anastasia's POV

I had always felt at home in Italy.

The sights, the smells, the occasional nonna scolding her grandchildren. 

I felt safe, even when situations weren't so.

After I took Quinn to his room to allow him to settle in, I reached under my bed, pulling out Nonna Valerie's old diary. She had left it in this house, passing it down to me when I had first come here as a vibrant four-year-old. She had come on that trip with us, bouncing me on her knee during the whole flight so that I wasn't scared. 

As I stumbled up the stairs of the house, she picked me up taking me to where I sat now. 

~flashback~

"Nonna?" I asked, looking up at the old woman.

Her brown eyes twinkled in the light of the setting sun, her wrinkled skin holding an olive tone. Her sapphire pendant rested in a perfect position on her chest, her black blazer standing out over the white of her shirt and pants.

"Sì, Ana?" she answered, holding me close so that I wouldn't fall off the edge of the bed. 

"Am I pretty?" I asked. I don't know why I did, after all Daddy said I was his principessa, the most beautiful in the whole world. But I couldn't be pretty, I wasn't like the other girls in pre school. They all had pretty blonde hair, that was kept in bows and piggy tails. 

I preferred mine to be out, wild and free.

"Anastasia!" she cried, pinching my cheeks. "Tu sei bella e intelligente! You are the creation of your mother and father's love. That in itself, is beautiful."

She caressed my hair, taking a stray curl and twisting it around her finger. Her blue nails had crystals on each, and I took her free hand, lightly scraping it with my finger.

"My dear, I have something I wish to give you," she said, and she brought out an old brown book, with pieces falling off. The family crest was on the spine, and she rubbed a thumb over it before carefully placing it in my hands.

"This is my secret diary from when I was a little girl," she whispered to me, and I got very excited. Nonna was giving me her secret diary!

"Why is it secret Nonna?" I asked, and she tapped my nose.

"Because only the first born daughter of our bloodline receives it and knows of it. It has family secrets in it, like recipes and tunnels under this very house and homes all over Italy!"

I grinned and undid the bindings of the tattered leather book, opening it to reveal pages upon pages of cursive handwriting, differing from one writer to another. Recipes and maps adorned the first few pages, until I flipped to a part with dates.

"We have all written one page as part of it being our book. All the women who have ever handled this book have written in their wedding dates, pricking their finger and placing it down the bottom. It's like a good luck symbol dear, and one day, you'll find your soulmate and write in this book, and the you'll pass it down to your daughter." 

Nonna smiled, and turned the page to the latest entry. There was a black and white photo of a young lady, her white wedding dress made of silk and lace, like there were flowers all over it. She was smiling, and underneath it, was a drop of blood, with a name written in ink beside it.

Valerie Rosalina Cuore.

~end of flashback~

I opened the diary, flipping to her page. Nonna had died last year, a week after Hazel's 14th birthday. She died peacefully in her sleep, after battling a horrible breast cancer for years, and though my nonno was sad, we were all just glad she was no longer suffering.

I grabbed her pendant from my backpack, grasping the sapphire and stroking it as I had recently begun doing. Placing my hand on the page destined to be mine, I traced my fingers over the smooth paper that had yellowed with age. This book had been in my family for generations, full of Italian words that had died out long ago.

I was scared I would break my promise to Nonna Valerie.

What if I never had children because no one loved me? What if I never wrote my part in this diary?

I was so busy caught up in my thoughts, that I didn't notice Quinn until he was squatted in front of me, waving his hand. "Argh!" I yelled, stuffing the diary under my arse in hope he hadn't seen it. Luckily if he had, he didn't mention it.

"Are you okay, Ana?" He looked slightly concerned so I smiled slightly, hoping it would ease it away. It didn't.

"I'm fine," I tried to reassure him again.

His face didn't change. He slowly got up and sat next to me, initially raising his arm to sling it around my shoulders, but hesitating. 

"May I?" he asked. I nodded, and he slung it gently over, his arm fitting like a puzzle piece above my shoulders. I leant my head into him, and just started to cry, letting my tears fall onto his shirt like there was no tomorrow.

Thinking about my nonna had always made me miserable, as I missed her hugs and warmth so terribly. Quinn pulled me into a hug, and my legs straddled him, but I had no time to think about sexual advances. All I wanted was comfort and he was supplying me with so much.

"Hush, it's okay, just let it all out," he cooed, and he moved his arm that had been slung overly shoulders to my mid-back, the other holding my head close to him.

In those moments where it was just silence, all I could think of was how perfect this felt. Normally my brothers would tell me to stop crying, comforting me in hugs but saying crying never helped.

Quinn, a man I barely knew, was comforting me with words and telling me it was okay to cry, though he did not know the purpose of the tears. I had never felt so loved by someone who wasn't apart of my family. 

He lay me on my bed, slipping my sneakers off, and pulled the duvet up to my chin. He closed the balcony doors, and closed the curtains, before taking a seat on the edge of my bed. Picking up the diary I had stuffed under my butt, he tucked it beside me, placing Nonna's pendant on the bedside table. 

My tears subsided as he stroked my hair, smiling down at me, his eyes looking into both of mine. 

His hand stopped on my cheek, cupping it in his warm hands. 

My heart fluttered.

He leant down, and I raised myself up.

He stopped just centimetres from my face. 

"Are you sure?" he asked, the warmth of his breath tickling my nose.

I nodded and brushed my lips against his. His lips were soft, tasting of peppermint. I looped my arms around his neck, but still, he stayed as gentle as ever, allowing us to savour every moment and feeling we had.

I slowly pulled away, the sparks from our kiss settling down into my stomach. I blushed and he blushed back.

"Wow," he remarked, a reddening blush tinging his pale cheeks.

"That was my first kiss," I mumbled, and he turned his head to me, leaning down for another.

Before his lips landed on mine he whispered into my ear.

"It was mine too."