𝐄𝐳𝐫𝐚 | 18+

38

He leads me through the spacey hallways as I admire everything around me. There are stained glass windows on the left side, facing out onto the outrageously spacious garden. He had explained to me that, back when his mother was still alive, she would plant all different types of flowers in their garden arranging them by color and, eventually, people started showing up with different flowers for her to plant. The garden is still active today, but it's not taken care of by Mrs. Romano, but by multiple gardeners.

Funny how one woman's hobby had been replaced by five men doing their job.

I glance outside, past the garden, and notice a big pool, connected laterally to a circular hot tub. Then there are the gates, thin gold poles drawing intricate designs as they reach the sharp top. It's designed into an arch, so the sides are shorter while moving towards the middle it gradually gets taller.

"You lived here?" I ask, slowing down my pace to admire the ambiance.

"I did, yes. With my fathers death, I'll be moving back." He explains.

"Why is that? Just because there's no one else to take the villa and pay for maintenance anymore?" I ask. The question comes off as rude, but it wasn't my intention at all.

Something flashes beneath his eyes before he speaks.

"I guess you could see it that way." He shrugs a shoulder and we continue walking. The sound of our shoes hitting the hardwood floors echoes through the entire hallway. We walk up to a painting, the family portrait from before. I stop in my tracks to admire it and so does Ezra, but I'm sure it's just to wait for me.

In the painting, there are four people. In the top left, there's a man that looks like a younger version of Ezra's dad. He has dark hair like Ezra's and a short beard, his expression serious, whilst he's wearing a black tailored suit and round glasses over his eyes. Next to him, is a woman. She has light brown hair, brought up into a braid that crosses over her shoulder and her expression is calm. She has bright green almond shaped eyes and lips the same shape as Ezra's. Her lineaments are soft, except for her rigid jawline and straight nose. Her cheekbones are apple-like placed highly on her docile face. She looks fragile, but in her eyes you can tell that she could do some serious ass-kicking.

I see Ezra in her.

"That's Mamma." He speaks, pointing at the woman.

"She's beautiful." I say softly.

"I know." He sighs, a small smile on his face.

Ezra's mother has her hands on a young boy, maybe seven or eight years old. He has hair like his mother and the same color of eyes, though his lineaments resemble his father. It's not Ezra.

"Who is this?" I ask, pointing towards the unknown boy. His feature resemble somewhat those of Ezra.

"That's my brother, Lorenzo. He left home at 16 and I haven't heard from him since." He explains, though he doesn't seem pained by it. Nonetheless, I don't push any further, ignoring all of the questions piling in my mind.

My gaze moves to the other boy and I smile at him. It's Ezra. His jet black hair is slicked neatly to the side, his gray eyes looking off at the same thing all the other characters are looking at, his expression stoic and his shoulders rigid with his father's hands on them.

"How old were you, here?" I ask.

"Nine." He answers.

"You were cute." I smile up at the portrait, the paint chipping off in a new areas due to the age of it.

"Thanks." He chuckles.

"Were." I tease. He smiles before grabbing my hand again and tugging me away from the painting.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask as we wander down the hallways.

"Mhm." He hums.

"What did your dad tell you?" I ask. He's silent for a moment, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

"Since he's going to die and I work in his business, he said that I would be in charge of it all." He answers.

"That's why you're moving here?" I wonder, trying to connect the dots but it somehow doesn't work. It doesn't make sense.

"Sort of, I guess." He shrugs so I let it slide. If he wanted to give me a full answer, he would've.

"When the time comes, that my father dies, I'll have to go to Italy for a week or so." He voices.

"Okay." I say softly.

"It's for a business meeting, though. I'm staying for a week to visit my family." He explains, swinging our conjoined hands back and forth between us.

"That sounds nice." I smile.

"Will you come with me?" He asks. A small smile forms on my lips. I've always wanted to visit Italy.

"You sure?" I ask.

"I wouldn't ask if I wasn't." He smiles.

"Yeah, I'll come, but just because I know how much you'll miss me if I don't."

"Of course." He chuckles.

"I've been thinking of quitting my job..." I say softly.

"Hm." He responds. "Why?" He asks.

"I'm not getting a good pay, anyways. I was considering finding another job. I'm kind of sick of mine, honestly." I shrug.

"Okay. If you ever find yourself tight on money, feel free to tell me. I can help." He says. I smile at him, thanking him with my eyes. Even though I know damn well that even if I only have a dollar in my bank account I will not say a word.

"Ez?" I ask.

"Lee?"

"What was your mother like?" I say softly, baldly hoping he didn't hear me. Although I'm curious.

"She was very docile, but strict when it came to disobedience. She was openminded... always smiling, laughing, or cracking jokes. You remind me of her, in a way." He answers. "When my brother and I did something irresponsible, sometimes she would keep it a secret from our father since she knew he would beat us. She didn't agree with him, in that way, but it was just his way of parenting I guess." He says. I remain silent, arranging the facts in my mind.

"When she passed, we were heart broken because she was the light to our family. As if we were in a dark room, she was the candle that lit it up."

"I'm sorry." I whisper.

"It's okay, it's not your fault." He answers. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Lee?" He asks, after a minute of silence.

"Hm?" I hum.

"What are we?" He asks, and my chest tightens as my stomach clenches.

"Second cousins." I answer lightly.

"That's not what I meant." He chuckles lightly.

"I know." I smile softly. "We're friends, Ez." It pains me to say this, because deep down I know that I'm slowly falling in love with him.

Wait what?

Who said that...

word count: 1195
☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎☂︎︎

Heyoooo what are ur thoughts on the book? We're at 49 reads that's awesome tysm :D
Stay safe<3
-S