1476 {Bucky x reader}

21

Pink light peaked through the thick brush of the tree I sat under. Ezio was off running an errand for my father, Claudia was spending her day with my Mother and Petruccio, Federico was off doing his own thing as always, and I? I was enjoying my peaceful day in Firenze (Florence). The sun was going down and I was going to spend the night with my closest friends, Ciro—a witty dark-haired boy who was like another brother to me, Vittoria—she was the sneakiest out of all of us, a master thief even at such a young age, and lastly, Mirco—he wasn't the kindest towards Vittoria and me, he seemed to have a grudge against my family but I didn't know why.

"Ho la cena! (I got dinner!)" Vittoria snakes around the corner of an alley and pulls a loaf of bread from her coat.

"C'e ' qualcos'altro che hai rubato questa volta? (Is there anything else that you stole this time?)" I take the bread from her and rest back against the trunk of the tree.

"Bene, (Well,)" she begins, "Ho trovato questi, (I found these,)" she drops three pouches at the base of my feet, their brown sacks slumped when the clink of coins hit the stoned floor.

"Intendi 'rubato'. (You mean 'stole'.)" Ciro corrects her as I stuff my face with a handful of bread.

"Dettagli, Ciro... estremi... (Details, Ciro... details...)" She hushes him with a swipe of her hand.

"Vittoria, non lo mangio! (Vittoria, I'm not eating this!)" Mirco chirps as he throws the loaf of bread I handed him into my lap.

"Ok, più per noi allora. (Ok, more for us then.)" She replied in an unbothered tone, though I knew, Mirco always got on her nerves especially when he would attack her after her hard work. Being a young thief was dangerous, I couldn't imagine having to steal just to survive, I was lucky enough to have been brought up in a wealthy family. 

"Rubare non è per le ragazze, mio padre dice che brucerai all'inferno per questo! (Stealing isn't for girls, my father says you will burn in hell for that!)" Mirco opens his mouth once more, but Vittoria ignored his unpleasant comment.

"Beh, mio padre mi dice che anche gli stronzi bruciano all'inferno, quindi forse sii piu 'gentile con Vittoria perche' a quanto pare passerai molto tempo insieme nell'aldilà. (Well, my father tells me that assholes burn in hell too, so maybe be kinder to Vittoria because from the sounds of it you'll be spending a lot of time together in the afterlife.)" Ciro chimed in before taking a bite of the bread. Vittoria and I snorted under our breaths at his boldness to go against Mirco, after all, they were the closest of friends from our group—practically family with how close their parents were.

"Ciro, chiudi la bocca o te la chiudo io! (Ciro, shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you!)" Mirco threatens the young boy to my left with a strong glare through his thick brows.

"Cosa ti ha infilato nel culo? (What crawled up your ass?)" I smirked at the long-haired boy on my right, only to earn my own poisonous glare.

"Fatti gli affari tuoi Auditore! (Mind your own business Auditore!)"  He warns me. "Mio padre dice che la tua famiglia è piena di bugiardi, sudici, traditori! (My father says your family are filled with lying, filthy, traitors!) He spits in my face after I look away and scoff.

I paused from the cold liquid splattered on my cheek. "Come... osare... si... (How... dare... you...)" Silence fell upon us like a lead anchor when I wiped the spit from my face. When I turned to the boy only a year older than me, his black, hollow eyes shifted from anger into fear as if he knew he messed up. And he did. Without a thought, I pounced onto him, my fingers gripping tightly around his thick neck. I watched as his dark skin turned purple under the hew of the sunset, his veins popping out like worms. This was the moment I was going to kill him, the moment he was going to receive the proper treatment he deserved.