Latibule s. clearwater

Chapter 7

Hazel grunted the more she tried to tug the large basket of clothing into the laundry mat in Forks. In truth, she could have just gone to the Cullen's, but then Esme would have tried to do it for her and Hazel truly valued the alone time it gave her when doing it somewhere else. 

For the past week she had been cleaning Bruce's house from top to bottom, not leaving any crevice dirty. She had to make sure the house was spotless in case Elliot got to come home. His fragile immune system wouldn't be able to handle the dirty environment. 

Hazel pulled once more, huffing in exhaustion when two big hands reached down to pull the basket out of her hands and moving it over to a washing machine. She was startled at first, but even more so when she met the glowing golden eyes of a stranger. 

She cleared her throat, trying her best to keep her heart rate at a normal pace, and nodded a thank you. 

The stranger stared at her, eyes seeping into the side of her face with furrowed brows. He started talking but without being able to look at his lips for assistance, it was pretty hopeless. 

Instead she turned back and started signing random words. Pulling the deaf card always made people uncomfortable. 

Not this vampire. 

He smirked, leaning against the counter and watched her hand movements before responding with his own. 

"If you didn't want to talk, all you had to do was say so,"  he signed, much to her displeasure.

The vampire couldn't have been much older than Edward when he was turned, at most twenty. His black hair created a contrast to his pale skin, though Hazel could tell it had a warmth to it and must have been more tanned when he was human. 

The way he carried himself was far different than the Cullens. As if not used to being around humans like herself. 

"You know what I am, yet you do not cower in fear." 

Hazel shrugged, continuing to shove clothes into the washer. There was no point in lying when he already knew the truth. If he had wanted to hurt her, which his golden eyes suggested otherwise, he would have done so already. 

"My name is Lorenzo, but you mia bella, can call me Enzo." He took her hand in his cold one and brought it up to his mouth, where he placed a quick kiss to her knuckles. 

Hazel ripped her hand away, growing impatient. 

"This is all fascinating, but what are you doing here? Surely you know this is another vampires territory." 

Lorenzo tutted in disapproval, his face falling from smug to a more soft look. "I am simply taking a break from my travels. I saw you struggling and thought you could use a friend." 

"You don't make friends with vampires." 

"No, only let them take care of you." Lorenzo shot back. "I can smell the others on your clothes, and the wet dog scent on your hand. Is it so hard for you to believe that there are other vampires that don't plan to harm you?"

Hazel thought for a moment. The Cullens always taught her to stay away from vampires, even the vegetarian kind. It does seem a bit silly that they be the only one's allowed to be around her. 

"Look, I won't bother you if you feel uncomfortable. It's just not very often our kind come across a human who knows of our existence and isn't afraid to be around us. But if you don't mind, I can hang out here whenever you bring clothes and we can talk." 

He held out his hand for her to shake, and she reached over and gripped it tightly. 

Lorenzo was right. Every day for the following week, when Hazel would bring all of Bruce's dirty clothes, Elliot's, and her own, he was there. They would talk about a multitude of things, bonding over Italian architecture and history. 

She found out that he was very old, a much older vampire than she originally thought. 

"When I was a young boy, my ma would always bake. Back then that was all she could really do. So she would bake sweets to sell or give away to the poor. If I try hard enough, sometimes I think I can smell the scent that filled our home. She always said, 'il dessert nutre l'anima', which means that dessert feeds the soul." 

Hazel watched as a ghost of a smile etched it's way across his sullen face. "I love to bake. It was something my mom taught me to do before she died." 

The next day, Lorenzo came into the laundry mat holding a small wooden box that had old carvings and placed it in front of her. 

Hazel looked at him, receiving a nod of encouragement and opened it, a small gasp protruding from her mouth at the old parchment in the box. Dozens of old recipes were written down, followed by new paper that wrote the English translation. 

"Your mother's recipes," she mumbled, fingertips tracing over the writing.

"I have no use for them now. They shouldn't go to waste." 

"Thank you Enzo," Hazel threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight hug. 

Lorenzo tensed at first, before hugging her back. 

A beginning to a great friendship. 

Please don't hate me for having to google translate the Italian. I wish I was fluent but I'm not lol. Sorry <3