𝙎𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙨 {𝙈𝙞𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙚𝙡 𝙅𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙤𝙣}

18~ {𝐵𝓊𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓉𝓅𝓇𝑜𝑜𝒻}

"Don't retreat. Reload."

~~~

Friday, May 28th

Noon

~Destiny~

The change in altitude made my ears pop, painfully at that. It woke me up from my "sober up" nap.

The wheels of the plane hit the runway and continued forward until it stopped.

There was a light knock on the cabin door

"Ms. Sinclair."

I recognized the voice to be Arrow's. I was completely taken off guard by the way he addressed me so formally.

I got up from the bed and unlocked the cabin door to peek outside.

"We landed. Michael's waiting for you."

"For me?"

He nodded.

I stepped out of the cabin and made my way to the front of the plane where Michael was waiting for me.

When I reached him his expression didn't shift one bit. "You feel better?" He asked.

"I felt fine this whole time."

"Are you at least sober? I can't have you acting a drunken fool out in these streets."

I crossed my arms. "You have nothing to worry about."

He gave me a look as if he was unsure of whether I was telling the truth or not. He didn't question me further and just reached out his hand to help me down the stairs of the planes exit.

The feeling of his hand in mine caused a burning sensation, but not in a bad way. Even though his were much bigger than mine, they fit together perfectly.

Once we reached the ground and he let go, I looked around at the Sicilian sights around me. It was much different from New York. The air was lighter, and it was much brighter without the tall buildings blocking the sun.

Not too far in the distance was the bluest lake I'd ever seen in my life. The structure of the houses and the way the streets looked were just as I imagined them to.

I continued to be mesmerized by the sights as we walked away from the plane and into the streets where a car was waiting for us.

It was the sleekest SUV car I'd ever seen. If SUV's would ever do any kind of NASCAR racing, this car would come in first.

I sat in the very back, behind the backseats so I was a little squished, but I didn't care. I continued to watch the sights as Michael drove the car through the city. I hadn't realized how fascinated I was by Italian culture until now.

He stopped in the driveway of a house that looked just like everything around, just a bit bigger. It was further away from the rest of the houses, probably about half a mile.

Everyone else got out the car, but I knew to wait for Michael's que. Who knew? Shots could pop off and someone ends up dead. It for sure as hell wouldn't be me.