Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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Trigger warning: Grief
POV: Brooklyn "Sometimes it's just the memories you miss, not the person." Summer #3
I wanna know if you've ever felt your heart beat against your ribs, begging you to stop.
My heart has been begging for years, beating against the cage my ribs have put it in.
It has never known freedom, and neither do I.
I used to think freedom was the answer, but as I run down the very streets that Valentino and I used to walk on, I realize that freedom is not a place but a person.
A person that you can utterly be yourself with, no judgement
no masks
no lies
So as I feel my heart pound against my chest, I wonder if my heart has been beating for freedom, for him, even though it hurts, even though it consumes my soul and burns my mind to think of him, even if it makes me want to scream.
The rain pouring from the sky matches the feeling I get as I walk up the steps of the grand church; even though the parking lot is empty, grief is still in the air.
It sank onto my shoulders like an anchor as I pushed the double doors open, making it harder to walk down the aisle.
At the front, a woman sat with a veil covering her face.
She sat there in silence, staring into bliss while going through a visible internal battle. I could tell by the way her knees shook and the way she mindlessly played with her fingers.
I cautiously walked toward the row besides her and took a seat, but when I turned my head, I realized that wasn't an ordinary woman.
This was Valentino's mom.
She noticed my staring and turned towards me, gasping when she realized who I was.
"Brooklyn," she gasped, her wrinkled hands going to her mouth in shock.
I silently walked towards her and sat beside her, immediately wrapping my arms around her shoulders.
I let her cry onto my shoulders; she screamed for her dead husband, and she screamed for someone to end her pain.
Seeing Mrs. Rossi like this killed me. I always looked at her as the mother I wished I had. She always took me in and cared for me when I was a confused thirteen-year-old girl who was utterly and completely broken.
"V-Valentino," she whispered as she withdrew from my hug.
"He left as soon as it was over; I don't know where he is." "Everyone has been looking for him, but he is nowhere to be found," she said as she took my hand in hers. Mrs. Rossi always knew about me and Valentino, even when we were younger, and denied any feelings we had for each other.
She knew I would know where he is, and I do, but going there would mean something.
It would mean that I would have to relive the very memories that I have suppressed.
I would have to relive my very first memory of Valentino. ____________________________________ A/N: Guys I know I have been prolonging their meeting, but I swear they meet in the next chapter 😭✋🏽
