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...
Giacomo's eyebrows rose as he stood over the sleepy Cristoforo. "Let's get you into bed."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Slumped over Giacomo's shoulder, Cristoforo woke thinking he was holding a bouquet of flowers. They smelled funny. Worse yet, they looked funny. Who had ever seen black roses before? He turned his nose up at them. "They don't even look fresh!" As if to prove his point, several petals fell to the ground, creating a sad, dark trail. If breadcrumbs left a trail to follow, the black petals left one best avoided.
Stopping before a door, Giacomo stood Cristoforo on his feet. "Are you okay now? Can you stand on your own?"
"I think so."
"You best be able to, for there are no fainting couches around here. You were lucky I caught you the first time." Giacomo unlocked the door before him as he spoke.
As it opened, Cristoforo looked into the sparsely furnished apartment beyond. "And, there are none in there. There is hardly anything in there at all!" His mind ran to Carlo's comfortably furnished place, but he put that out of mind immediately. "If I can forget everything else, I can forget that too." He thought while bracing himself for the decidedly more spartan set up facing him.
The apartment looked more like a nearly empty storage room than a space for living. It also resembled a fish tank, for the wall opposite the door was mostly made of windows. There was a built-in bench beneath, which ran below the entire length of the windows. There was a single gray pillow on it. It was propped against the wall. He figured this bench must serve as the couch. If so, this was an odd and quite uncomfortable arrangement.
To his left, there was a small sink fitted on top of the one cabinet in the room. A single hot plate sat on the narrow counter beside the sink. There was a pot on it—with chopsticks sticking out from it! This made him shiver. In front of the sink there was a small round table with two metal folding chairs.
The only other concession to creature comforts was a large round platform bed. He could not imagine where one bought sheets for such a bed. There was a small nightstand beside it, and on it, there was a long black taper candle. It was already lit. He could not see a lamp or even a bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling anywhere else.
On the wall behind the bed, there was a large video screen. Odd, he thought, that is was behind the bed, but since the bed was round there was no telling which end was the foot and which was the head. What was more curious was the size of the screen. It was nearly as big as the wall itself.
Cristoforo could not imagine why someone would want such a large screen, but he thought it would be fun to watch cartoons on it. He wondered if "Crayon Shin-chan" was on now. He wiggled his backside with excitement at the idea of lounging there watching it.
Giacomo gestured for Cristoforo to pass through the open door. Stepping inside, Cristoforo felt like he was outside once again, for the apartment was colder than the hallway and almost as cold as it was outside. So much so, he wondered if it might begin snowing in here.
