Nimbus (Volturi Kings x OC)

Chapter Four

My pulse was racing as my left leg bounced in frantic anticipation. My carry-on bag, a beat up black Prada travel bag I had borrowed from Mama for my vacation, was laid at my feet while I waited to board the plane home. After leaving the castle, I had calmly rejoined the St. Marcus' Day crowd, but once I had turned the corner down the street, I grit my teeth and bolted to my hotel as fast as my legs could carry me. My arm shot blinding pain through my entire being with every heavy footfall, but it was worth it to be so close to escaping mostly unscathed.

After breathlessly asking the concierge at the front desk to call a cab for me, which he did not question considering the physical state I was in, I impatiently waited for the elevator to reach my floor. Once there, I ran to my room, threw two Tylenol down my throat with hardly a pause, packed everything I had brought into my suitcase and carry-on in record time, and was back in the lobby within ten minutes. The taxi pulled up right on cue, and now I was here, counting the minutes until boarding would start. Under any other circumstances, I would've been outraged by what the hotel charged to check out two days early and what the airline was charging me to change my flight on such short notice. But today, I was grateful for those very expensive privileges.

I looked through the window at the picturesque scenery outside of the airport to try and distract myself while I waited. It was early afternoon and the Tuscan sun was shining down on Volterra just right. Everything and everyone seemed to shine from the inside out simply by virtue of feeling the ethereal warmth from the heavens. Everything I was told while planning this trip had been true, springtime in Italy really was unbeatable. Sunny and warm, but not sweltering like it would be in the summer. It was such a stark contrast from the Alaskan winter I would be returning to that it made my heart ache. The snow wouldn't melt away into spring until at least April, but April snowstorms weren't uncommon. If my afternoon hadn't been hijacked in such a strange, violent manner, I would be out in the sunshine, basking for another two days in utter bliss. But instead, there I sat, essentially fleeing for my life and feeling cold down to my very bones from fear. No matter how pleasant the weather outside was, I doubted it could bring me any warmth at that point. So much for distracting myself.

Checking the time on my phone, and then double checking the nearest clock, I was disappointed to see that there was still plenty of waiting left to do. I wouldn't be boarding for at least another half hour, and that was assuming that everything would be running perfectly on time. At least it wouldn't be a packed flight seeing as the other tourists were here to celebrate St. Marcus' Day.

With my phone in my hand, I considered calling Mama to let her know the change in my plans, especially since I would be home the next day in time for my birthday. But in the end, I decided not to. It would lead to too many questions I didn't feel like answering in my current state. Besides, it would be the middle of the night in Alaska, and the last thing I wanted was to scare her. I was already afraid enough without her usual catastrophizing. Promising myself that I would call her as soon as I made it to my first layover, I went back to my original goal of distracting myself with the surrounding scenery.

Or, at least, I meant to go back to my goal. But when I looked up from my phone, sitting directly across from me in one of the uncomfortable airport seats, was none other than Marcus. And he was staring at me with utter anguish written all over his beautiful face as he tightly clutched... a huge, black umbrella. Strange choice for such a beautiful day, but that was beside the point.

I gasped and jumped at the sight of him before wincing at the pain it caused my arm. This reaction only seemed to deepen his melancholy.

"Annabel...."

Oh, dear God. His velvet voice was nothing short of agonized as he uttered my name. My chest tightened with regret that I had no way to explain. "Marcus...."