119 Francesca and Violetta from Violetta

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by Ameliashepherdwife

by Ameliashepherdwife

Francesca sat on the sun-drenched terrace, her fingers tracing patterns on the worn wooden table. The café overlooked the bustling streets of Milan, but her attention was elsewhere. Violetta, her lifelong friend, was due to arrive any moment.

They hadn't seen each other in years. Life had taken them on separate paths—Violetta pursuing her music career, Francesca managing her family's vineyard in Tuscany. Yet, their bond remained unbreakable.

As the café door chimed, Francesca's heart skipped a beat. There she was—Violetta, her hair now streaked with silver, but her eyes still as vibrant as ever. They embraced, tears welling up in both their eyes.

"Fran," Violetta whispered, "it's been too long."

Francesca nodded, unable to find words. They settled into their usual corner booth, the scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloping them.

"Tell me everything," Violetta urged. "How's the vineyard? And your family?"

Francesca recounted stories—the harvest festivals, the laughter echoing through the vine-covered hills, and her brother's wedding under the ancient oak tree. Violetta listened, her smile softening the lines etched by time.

"And you?" Francesca asked. "Your concerts, your songs?"

Violetta leaned closer. "Fran, I've sung in grand theaters, but none of it compares to the music we made together. Remember our impromptu duets in the Studio? The way our voices blended?"

Francesca chuckled. "Of course! 'This Is My World'—our anthem."

Their laughter faded, replaced by a quiet longing. Francesca hesitated, then blurted out, "I missed you, Violetta. Every day."

Violetta's gaze held hers. "Me too. But life took us apart."

Francesca's heart raced. "What if it didn't have to? What if we could create new music, just for us?"

Violetta's eyes sparkled. "Fran, you're suggesting—"

"An album," Francesca interrupted. "Our stories, our memories, woven into melodies. A tribute to our friendship."

Violetta reached across the table, her fingers brushing Francesca's. "I'd love that. But there's something else I need to say."

Francesca leaned in, her pulse quickening. "What is it?"

Violetta took a deep breath. "Fran, I've loved you since the moment we met. Not just as friends. More."

Francesca's heart soared. "Violetta, I—"

"—And I've never stopped," Violetta continued. "Even when we were apart, my heart held onto you."

Francesca cupped Violetta's face. "Then let's rewrite our story. Let's be more than friends."

And in that sun-kissed café, surrounded by the hum of Milan, they kissed—a promise of forever. Their album would be a symphony of love, a testament to the bond that transcended time.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on their intertwined hands, Francesca knew that their future was brighter than any melody they'd ever sung. Together, they'd create harmonies that echoed through eternity.