Again, thanks to my beta, Sparagus. My story would not be what it is without her! She has some amazing proofing skills. You are a lifesaver!
Rating: This story is rated M (MA) for a reason. It will at times contain violence, lemons, and other adult content. I really don’t do PG, as anyone who knows me could tell you. So if you aren’t of age, you should not be reading this.
Disclaimer: Stephanie Meyer owns Twilight and all affiliated characters. I just like to play with them. Nor do I own any of the artwork discussed in any chapter of this fic. I am merely using it in one way or another for the purpose of my story.
Chapter 1 – Hurricane Sera
Bella POV
I was out of breath and so exhausted that I felt I was going to collapse by the time I reached the door to what would be my new home for the next four months. When reviewing the housing details, I had opted for an off-campus residence, hoping I could get into one that was close to the city center. I would have to share with other students, but I didn’t mind that so much.
After the long train ride from Pisa, I arrived in Florence mid-morning. I then took a taxi to NYU’s campus to find out what my new housing arrangements would entail.
I had a short meeting with a very nice Signorina Vivendi, who gave me the rundown on the campus, classes, and housing. She answered some questions I had and gave me a packet of information, which included maps of the campus and town, class schedules and locations, emergency numbers, and other important information.
Finally, she gave me the key and address to my new home, also informing me that I would have three roommates, though none had checked in as of yet. One was expected later today, she said, but the other two wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow afternoon.
After another taxi ride, I’d arrived at a beautiful; three story building on via Laura with the same old world architecture as the rest of the block. The morning sun hitting the front of the house accentuated the soft yellow of the stucco and reflected off the sets of windows on each floor. The entry door was to the left side and opened into a staircase leading to the other floors. On each landing, there was a window and a door leading to an apartment.
Thankfully, I was in the second floor apartment. If I’d had to heft my luggage up another flight of steps, I might not have made it. Luckily, I did make it up the first flight, and with key in hand, I opened the door.
I left my luggage at the door and walked inside, leaving the door open behind me. I smiled as I looked around. The main area was a pretty decent size I had always heard about how small European rooms tended to be, so the fact that the space was quite roomy surprised me.
The area was completely open. The entire room was painted a soft, creamy yellow, reminding me of the trailing wisps of color leftover when the sun fell away from the sky in the evening There was a small kitchenette and dining area in one corner with seating for four.
There wasn’t a lot of counter space, but would be enough. There were a couple of cabinets above and below the counter, done in a soft terracotta tone that contrasted nicely with the white of the countertop. A sink, an oven, and a small fridge rounded out the kitchen. I would have to check later to see what cooking utensils were present in case I needed to buy anything. I was looking forward to going grocery shopping and making meals in the cute little kitchen.
The room was opened significantly by the two large windows at the side of the kitchen, looking down onto the via Laura. I stepped over to them, seeking a solution to the stuffy, warm apartment. The noises of cars and horns and the bustling of the city flooded the air around me with the soft breeze when I opened up the beautiful windows.
Satisfied with the affects of the fresh breeze now filling the air, I crossed the room. At the opposite end from the kitchen was a small living area. Mismatched furniture dotted the area, offering comfortable seating. A small, blue couch, only big enough for two people, sat along the wall. There were two armchairs, one the same color as the couch and the other a burnt orange color. The couch and chairs surrounded a small, dark and wooden coffee table with loads of nicks scarring the surface. Across from the couch was a small TV on a rickety stand, both of which had seen better days–in the 80’s perhaps?
Along one wall, near the sitting area, was a small table and chair set with a door flanking each side. On top of the table was a phone, which plugged into a jack on the wall just above it. Next to the phone jack was another plug, which I assumed was for an internet connection.
The furniture and décor of the apartment was old and mismatched, but everything was clean and felt comfortable. There weren’t holes in anything, but the fabric of each piece was worn in areas, and I noticed one of the cabinet doors was askew, but all-in-all nothing appeared to be a major problem.
Crossing to a door down the wall from the kitchen area, my eyes fell upon a small bathroom. The room housed a simple sink, tub, and toilet with a mirrored medicine cabinet. Next to the toilet was a long, thin door. Opening it, I discovered that half of it was for a water heater of sorts and the other half had some wooden slats for shelving. I did not relish the thought of sharing the bathroom with three other girls, but I didn’t really have much choice in the matter.
Continuing my self-guided tour, I made my way to one of the doors by the table. Looking directly across from where I stood in the doorway, I saw a small window that looked down into a back alley behind the house. The room was simple and understated, as the rest of the apartment had proven to be. Each side of the room contained a single-sized bed next to a small nightstand that sat under the window. At the end of the bed was a small desk and chair next to an armoire with both hanging and shelf space.
Moving onto the next bedroom, door opposite the table of the first, I peeked in, noticing it was set up in exactly the same way as the other. Both rooms were done in the same creamy yellow as the rest of the apartment, the furniture still mismatched, as if had all been purchased at a flea market. I still found it rather quaint and endearing.
After my exploration of the apartment, I finally brought my luggage inside, closing the door behind myself. As there was really no difference, I picked the room to the right and chose the bed by the right wall. Hopefully whoever I roomed with wouldn’t mind.
I then pulled out my toiletries, a towel and a change of clothes before heading for the bathroom. I’d not had a shower in over twenty four hours, most of which I’d spent traveling, and I was feeling quite grimy. Besides, the shower would help to wake me up. While I imagined that I would probably nap later, I was getting quite hungry, and it was lunchtime. I wanted to clean up and find somewhere to grab a bite before I passed out.
Twenty minutes later I was clean and refreshed. I was gathering the items I’d need for my lunch trip when I heard a noise in the outer room. Figuring it would be the other roommate expected today, I went out to greet her.
Standing just inside the door was a very pretty girl with straight, pale blonde hair that hung just to her shoulders. She was fairly thin and not much taller than me. She had on a pair of tight, stone-washed jeans, a short-sleeved, pink top that buttoned down the front, and a pair of white sandals that showed off her pink, painted toenails. I looked up at her hands and, as I had expected, they were same pink shade as her toes. I smiled at that.
She was looking around the main area, just as I had when I arrived. When her pale, blue-gray eyes reached me, they lit up with excitement. She nearly skipped over to me, her arm outstretched.
“Oh, my, sugar. You must be Isabella,” she said. Her voice was sweet, bright and airy, and she had a very thick Cajun accent. “I’m Sera Bonvillain. I just talked to Miss Vivendi, and she’s a real sweet lady, ain’t she? Well, she told me you left just as I arrived or else I coulda hitched a ride. But that’s okay. I don’t mind. ”
I smiled at her and shook her hand. She seemed a little loud, but her vivacious nature was endearing and refreshing to me. I couldn’t help but like her instantly.
“Nice to meet you, but please, just call me Bella,” I returned the greeting.
“Sure thing, chère.” She grinned. “So, you picked a room? Mind if I bunk with you? I don’t know the other girls coming, but you seem like good people, so I’ll take a chance. ” She winked at me.
I laughed and nodded. “Sure, sounds great.”
She giggled at that, and then swung around as a man walked in with two large suitcases. He seemed out of breath, probably from lugging the cases up the stairs. I could empathize.
“Oh, sugar, thank you so much for bringing these up for me. I don’t know what I’d have done without you. ” Her tone was flirty as she glanced up at the man and smiled wide.
The man stood up straighter and smiled back. He was tall, about six feet, with wide shoulders and dark features. He was quite attractive, but didn’t do anything for me. My mind went back to the hottie from the airport this morning. Nope, I had a feeling he had spoiled me for other men, at least for a while.
I sighed and continued to watch as Sera charmed the man, who I learned was named Paulo, into dropping her bags in the bedroom. Ten minutes and lots of flirty banter later, Paulo left, leaving his phone number with Sera.
Dropping the paper on the table by the phone, Sera turned to me.
“So what are your plans for the day? Are you tired? You flew in this morning, right? I imagine you’re exhausted. I was! But I came in yesterday and stayed at a hotel down the way. It was great, but I was so tired that I slept later than I meant to, otherwise, I’d have gotten here before you. ”
I laughed. “I am tired, but I’m trying to put it off because I’m starving. Did you wanna go for lunch? I was thinking of food, and then maybe explore nearby to see if I can find a market. ”
Remembering that I had wanted to check the cooking utensils, I made my way over and checked the kitchen cabinets and drawers, taking note of what was there and making a mental checklist of supplies.
“Sure, let me just grab my bag, and we’ll be off. I passed a little bistro down the road. We could try there. I’m sure they could tell us about the area, too. ”
The next few hours with Sera flew by. We went to the bistro and struck up a conversation with the owners, an old local couple named Marco and Patrizia Giraldi, that had lived here all of their lives. They gave us lots of ideas for exploring, information on stores and markets, and just general insight into local life. We hugged them goodbye and promised to come again before continuing on.
Just across from the bistro was the Museo Archeologico, but we bypassed it for the time being. Instead, we took a walk in the direction of a grocery that the Giraldi’s suggested. As we walked together, we talked about the scenery and things we would like to do while we were here. At the grocery, we grabbed some staple foods and a few fresh peppers and tomatoes for dinner tonight. We decided to forgo any other fresh foods in lieu of planning a trip to the market the next morning.
We continued a little further down the road until we came to a small piazza that looked more like a park. Finding a bench, we sat, enjoying the atmosphere as we continued to talk, asking and answering the typical getting to know you questions.
I also learned more about Sera. She was originally from New Orleans, although that had been glaringly obvious from the beginning. She laughed when I feigned surprise. Her parents were dead, her mother having died in childbirth, sadly. Her father was incarcerated a year later, after multiple drug possession arrests. She was raised by her maternal grandmother, Selene LaRue.
“Mamere was a hard woman, but a good one. She didn’t blame me for what my papa had done. She took me in and raised me as her own when I had no one. ”
Sera was quiet, her eyes sad as she recounted her memory. “She passed away before I started at NYU. It was rough for a while, but I wanted to make her proud. I hope I do. ”
“I know what you mean. My mother passed away last year. She and my stepfather were in a car accident. It’s still very hard. It took a while to remember that I couldn’t just pick up the phone and call her, you know?”
Sera smiled at me. “I know.”
After a few quiet moments, each of us lost in our thoughts, Sera starting asking questions again. We spent a little longer talking in the piazza before strolling back to the apartment. The afternoon was spent unpacking our luggage and making a list of things we wanted to get the next day. We also discussed ideas for decorating the apartment.
I found out that Sera was a painter, so we planned on getting some supplies so that we could each do a few pieces to put on the bare walls. We would also need some other accessories and necessities that we’d noticed missing as we unpacked.
The evening was filled with a food fight, a delicious dinner of pasta with our fresh vegetables, and more talking. We also spent about an hour each on the internet. I emailed Charlie, letting him know that I’d arrived safely, and sent him my address and emergency information that I’d received today. I planned on getting a cell phone while I was here, but I would give him those details once I’d gotten the phone. Sera and I added that to our list of things that we needed to do.
It was just turning dark when I could no longer hold back my yawns. We were sitting on the couch chatting when Sera noticed and suggested I go to bed, knowing I was still jet lagged from the flight.
“Yeah, I should get my ass to bed, huh? Especially if I want to keep up with you tomorrow. ”
She grinned. “Of course, chère! And don’t worry about me. I can entertain myself. Or maybe I’ll give Paulo a call!”
I laughed. Her expression said she’d not be doing so.
“Okay, I’m off to bed then.”
When I came out of the bathroom ten minutes later in my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of shorts, Sera was in the bedroom, grabbing some books and her iPod.
I went to my bed and crawled in, my body feeling heavy with exhaustion.
“What’s that?” Sera asked.
Looking up at her, I followed her gaze to the nightstand where my sketchbook lay open. I had begun drawing the man from the airport earlier that day, and his portrait was nearly finished, only needing a few touches here and there to complete some detail.
I felt my face heat a little as I looked back at her. “Uh…”
She plopped down on her bed and looked at me anxiously. “Your boyfriend?” she prompted.
I shook my head. “No,” I laughed nervously. “I wish. He’s just a guy I saw in the airport this morning. ”
I picked up the sketchbook and looked down at the drawing. I still saw him clearly in my head, but I’d wanted to preserve him on paper as well, knowing my memory of him would eventually fade. “I just thought he was so…” I trailed off, looking for the right word.
“Hot? Sexy? Gorgeous?” Sera supplied.
I giggled. “Well, yeah, definitely. I guess I just wanted to capture his hotness on paper. ”
“Well, you enjoy Mr. Hottie all you want. I’ll have my ear buds on and the music blaring in case you get loud, if you know what I mean. ” Sera wiggled her eyebrows at me as she walked out.
I gaped at her and threw my pillow, but she just laughed and closed the door. I got up and retrieved my pillow while chuckling under my breath at her insinuation. While the idea of fantasizing about ‘Mr. Hottie’ was tempting, I was just too tired to do anything more than turn off the light and lay down before I was asleep. But that didn’t keep him from invading my dreams…
**********
The next few weeks flew by. I had gotten a prepaid cell phone that next day with Sera, as did our other two roommates, Kelli and Hailey.
Kelli Gray was a curvy young woman about Sera’s height with dark brown eyes. She dyed her hair so that it was almost black with violet tinted streaks. It fell straight to her shoulders, but she rarely just left her hair to fall naturally. She was constantly putting it up in all these weird updos that were strangely attractive on her. She tried to do the same to my hair, but I couldn’t pull off the look. Kelli had a quirky, funky, chic style that just worked for her, and she had the attitude to match. While her clothing was colorful, it was generally simple in style. But she combined outfits with jewelry, hair and makeup in such a way that she was almost a walking piece of art herself. Her personality was just as colorful as her dress.
Our other roommate, Hailey Martin, was a beautiful, statuesque woman who towered over me with her near six-foot height. She had pale green eyes and long hair that had been highlighted in so many shades of blonde and brown that I’d have no idea what her natural hair color was if not for her light brown eyebrows. Hailey was always very well dressed. If her clothing wasn't designer, then it was the best of what you can get that wasn't. She always looked appropriate and put together and oozed sex appeal. She was a big flirt and a little bit promiscuous, though I didn’t fault her for it. She was who she was, and I liked her for that.
I got very lucky with my roommates. While I liked Kelli and Hailey very well, it was Sera that I grew to love spending time with. She and I had been practically inseparable and had become very close. We had opened up more to each other, and I told her more about myself than I had ever told anyone. She was fast becoming my best friend, something I’ve never really had before.
The first weekend before classes had been spent getting to know the girls, decorating the apartment, and getting to know Florence. Thanks mostly to the other three girls, our apartment was now drenched in varying colors. Sera and I had spent one evening with paint and canvas, designing abstract pieces that we had put on the walls. Kelli, being a photography major, had taken some stunning pictures around Florence that she had gotten developed and had placed in various frames on the tables with a few larger photos on the walls.
Hailey was an art major and had a good eye. She had chosen the fabrics for all of the rooms. There were soft blue, sheer curtains on the windows in the living area with heavier ones of the same color in the bedrooms. A few throw blankets were draped over the backs of the chairs and couches, all patterned mostly with yellows, blues, and reds. We had even found a small area rug for the sitting area. It was a graphic design with deep colors of rust and crimson. The apartment had started to look like a home.
I found that while Sera and Hailey were passable at cooking, Kelli and I were the better cooks. We spent a while at the market gathering supplies to stock the small area and had since experimented with a lot of new cuisine from a local cookbook given to us by Patrizia, the wife of the bistro owner down the street. We now ate there once a week and were getting to know the two of them.
Once we had settled into the apartment, we had gone to explore Florence. In the last few weeks, we had been able to visit a few of the tourist spots. We had all especially wanted to visit The Academia Gallery, where the original David by Michelangelo was held. The line that we had to wait in just to make it to the entrance took almost an hour, but it was worth it to see the amazing artwork, especially one of the most famous pieces in history.
We'd also wanted to see was the Palazzo degli Uffizi and its galleria. The Uffizi Gallery started with a collection put together by the Medici family, but had grown into an extraordinary compilation of works ranging from the Thirteenth Century to contemporary times. We got tickets to the earliest showing possible and spent many hours inside admiring the works of amazing artists such as da Vinci, Titian, Botticelli, Michelangelo and Rembrandt. We had enjoyed the trip so much that we planned to go again next month.
After our foray into the Palazzo degli Uffizi, we stepped out in the Piazza della Signoria, a beautiful square surrounded by similar large palazzos. The square was large and had been turned into an open-air museum in the 16th Century when they added a number of statues, most notably a replica of Michelangelo’s David. While the replica was not as impressive as the original statue, it was still a beautiful piece.
We also spent hours scoping out places to shop, like San Lorenzo’s Market, although we heard from Patrizia that it was a bit of a tourist trap. She suggested a few local ones in the area that we now frequented for our fresh produce. We also went shopping on the Old Bridge, or Ponte Vecchio, which is a pedestrian bridge full of shops near the Palazzo Uffizi.
We had plans to visit many more of the sites in Florence, but we knew we’d be here all semester, so we weren’t in much of a rush to see it all at once. We even took a few trips, both with the school, and on our own. We would do a couple day trips to places like Pisa, Lucca, San Gimignano, and Siena; but we also wanted to see Rome and Venice, so we were going to plan a whole weekend for each of those places.
And then I had my own trip planned to visit Volterra. I had mentioned Didyme to Sera, though I left out the full details of the connection I felt. Sera also thought it was a beautiful piece and accepted when I invited her to go with me when I went to see it. Thus our plans solidified. For my birthday, Sera and I would be going to Volterra.
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