Four guys, four hearts, one path.
Lonely, floppy-haired Cristoforo is lost in the snow with no memory. Now, he must find his way and his identity. Who will help him: Carlo, Giacomo, or the mysterious Angel? Read "Flakes" now to find out. #lightnovel...
"What kind of illusion is this? I've heard of mirages, but what is this? Snow rage? Could it be a snowrage?"
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Having run from Carlo's apartment, Cristoforo continued to run through the ever-falling snow. "Gosh, it sure snows a lot in this place!"
He ran until he was absolutely certain he had left Carlo far behind. This meant he had been running quite fast for a while, yet he was not out of breath. "I do not remember, but I must have been a runner."
This thought made him come a sudden stop. "I know something! Yes, I know something about myself! I am a runner, a very fast runner, so fast, I can do tricks!"
Celebrating his newly made memory, he dashed through the snow again, but this time, he did not run in a straight line. Instead, he zigzagged this and that way. It was fun!
It felt good knowing something about himself, and this filled his head with delight. So much so, he ran through the snow like it was an obstacle course. He was so fast he was able to run between the snowflakes before they fell.
He laughed as he ran. This laughter grew until he could no longer run, but he was so gleeful he kept moving. He spun in a circle. He kept spinning, spinning, and spinning until he became so dizzy he fell backwards.
Landing on his backside hard in a snowbank, the wind was knocked out of his lungs. This was not a good feeling. He was also beginning to feel cold, very cold. "I wish I had taken the kissing bandit's jacket."
He paused to consider what he had just said. "Am I thief? I do not think so, but maybe, I am? I do wish I had stolen that kissing bandit's jacket!"
This made him think just a little more about Carlo. "He was so kind at the start. He gave me a place to stay, but he sure would have made me pay for it! He wound up being a real flake!"
Then, he remembered he had nowhere to go. And, worse, he realized he did not know where he was.
Of course, since he had no memory, he had not known where he was all along, but he had learned at least something about these streets while wandering—or being carried through them—as he so often was.
He tightened his hands into fists before him. "Why do all the guys in this place want to carry or kiss me! Gross!"
As he looked up toward the street, he understood he was, once again, completely lost. And, he no longer had the energy to run—to see the snow as fun—or to even stand up.
Fresh winds stirred up the snow. It was once again everywhere—the air itself looked white. While he could not see far before, the visibility was worse now. He could not even see the closest street signs, but he knew he must, if he was ever going to get out of here.
But, the winds increased, surrounding him with moving curtains of snow. They kept him from seeing anything at all. He felt so small, so tired, and so very cold, but just as he was about to give up, he heard something!
