Arcangelo had his arm draped over Rosalie's waist as she lay with her back to his chest both of them sleeping soundly at 7:30 a.m. in the morning. That is until their bedroom door burst open as their children came running in.
The Tuscany sunlight streamed down on the pedestrians as they all went about their day. Some of them seated outside at the cafes, some of them chatting alongside one another, but all of them enjoying the weather.
The sound of birds chirping and the wind whistling through the trees infiltrated the glass surface of the windows. Carried across the curtain's fabric; the music echoing through the room along with the rhythmic breathing of the sole inhabitant.
"What do you mean it's not done?" Arcangelo chuckled darkly as he took a drag from his cigarette. "I was told I could count on your timely delivery. But apparently, that doesn't seem to be that case, now does it?"
The students clambered about as they all gathered their belongings, getting ready to leave and head off to their respective classes. Rosalie placed her notebook and pouch into her bag before someone nudged her shoulder from behind. Stumbling, she lightly bumped into the desk before looking back at her best friend, Maria.
The first thing Rosalie registered the moment she regained consciousness was the feeling of flying. She felt numb and light and she had no idea how to get back to the ground.
The cloudy night brought a twilight feel long before the sun was ready to set. The colors of the forest become less bright as if one is viewing them through dark glasses. The breeze has dampness to it that wasn't there a short while ago; it's cooler and fresher too. Arcangelo didn't have to be somewhere yet, giving him plenty of time to daydream and admire the heavens above, brilliant shafts of light bolting through the ever-changing cloud layer.
After almost three weeks of isolation, Rosalie was almost as good as new. All the bruises were gone, most of her injuries were healed, and it was just her rib cage that was still bound since it needed more time to heal, but other than that, she was back in top shape.
It was rather early in the morning with Rosalie sound asleep, a book placed beside her pillow. She had been so engrossed in the novel--a book she had borrowed from one of the numerous bookshelves in the house--and fell asleep while reading.
Arcangelo had his arm draped over Rosalie's waist as she lay with her back to his chest both of them sleeping soundly at 7:30 a.m. in the morning. That is until their bedroom door burst open as their children came running in.
The room was silent...and white.The ceiling was tiled with circular lights fixated into the structure as there was the soft humming of a machi
The day was postcard-perfect, even the buses were running on time. Downtown, the skyscrapers shone silver in the morning sun and the sky was an unbroken backdrop of blue. Commuters walked like shoals of fish in a myriad of directions, not one of them in winter garb. Spring had arrived in Tuscany and for once it wasn't with a deluge of rain.
The air outside glistens with snowflakes as the sun hadn't even made its appearance. The flakes fell gently against the light breeze, landing on the white blanket, accumulating one after the other as it all crunched beneath the guard's snow boots. All of them dressed in heavy coats and other protective clothing against the weather while they patrolled the grounds at six in the morning.
The warmth of her surroundings was what awoke Rosalie; that and the horrid dryness of her throat. With a soft grunt, she blinked her eyes open, instantly recognizing the pungent smell of a hospital disinfectant before her vision had even cleared.
Thegaping woundto Arcangelo's side gave him trouble throughout. He felt p
Arcangelo layon his stomach, watching Rosalie sleeping beside him.
"I don't see the point in attacking the main defense before the first line." Vincent shrugged as he peered over the plan placed on Arcangelo's office table. "That's all."
Rosalie sat in bed beside Arsenio as they both talked over a storybook. Arcangelo had to attend a call, so the little boy took the opportunity of having her read a bedtime story to him.