Wildflower | Volturi Kings

Chapter Four

The elderly Italian couple who ran Volterra's small, low budget hostel, Antonio and Loredana D'Agostino, were incredibly kind and welcoming to me the moment I stepped through their tattered yellow doors. The hostel, whilst cheap and in a great location, looked like it had seen far better days. The tiled floor was chipped and dulled from years of feet trampling across it, and the overall appearance was rather shabby.

However, if you looked a little closer, you could see the hard work the older couple had clearly invested in their hostel. Because, although it was worn, the place was clean and tidy, the foyer sweet and welcoming.

"It's a shame we not have more young men staying, no?" Loredana winked at me over a cup of coffee. Even after having been here for two days, I still couldn't keep up with Loredana's excessive caffeine intake. Nor her sudden interest in getting me laid.

"It's a shame we not have more people staying, full stop, eh?" Her husband grumbled behind the morning newspaper, glancing wistfully at the mostly empty visitor's book that rested against the wood of the front desk.

"Famiglie, amici, amanti, turisti... They all come for a day, one day! They come on big coach to eat gelato and eat a pizza, then back to Pisa or Florence, o un grande albergo stupido ed elaborato nella città!" Loredana spat indignantly, her coffee cup clattering against the saucer.

"But you! Ah, mia bellissima ragazza, you do right. You stay! You draw, si osserva. You learn!" She grinned toothily at me, gesturing at my sketchbook, currently sat in my lap as I doodled. I glanced down to see I had doodled a crude drawing of a penis and balls and winced. Loredana followed my embarrassed gaze and peered into my lap.

"Eh, you observe and learn most of time." Loredana cackled as I quickly slammed the sketchbook closed, my cheeks flushed red.

"Grazie, Loredana." I cleared my throat in embarrassment, smiling at her sheepishly. "Thank you for the wonderful breakfast this morning. It was delicious."

"Pah, pah!" Loredana wafted her hand at me, nudging me out of my seat. "Now go! There is so much to see, you should not waste your time parlando ai vecchi sciocchi piace Antonio ed io, eh?"

Antonio snorted, "Parli per te, vecchia donna." Loredana gasped at him dramatically, smacking him softly on the arm. After they started bickering lightheartedly in very fast Italian, I quietly excused myself. I think, alongside my drawing and adventuring, it might not be a bad idea to try and learn to speak Italian.

The day moved along quickly. Whilst the sun shone brightly throughout the warm morning, by lunchtime it was hidden behind soft, bright clouds. I packed up my work and ended up wandering through a small market by the piazza, casually looking over the different stalls.

I stopped by a mystical looking stall; lumps of gemstones, tarot cards, gorgeous smelling candles and incense, and a wonderful selection of beautiful vintage jewelry adorned the table. As I looked, I absentmindedly trailed my fingers across a selection of hanging scarves, feeling the soft fabrics with the pads of my fingers.

I startled slightly when I felt a gentle hand grasp my own. I flinched, drawing my hand away as I looked up and away from the jewelry. A deeply tanned woman, draped in numerous scarves, smiled back at me.

"Um, buon pomeriggio, signora. You have a beautiful stall." I nodded politely, a small smile on my lips. My fingers fidgeted with the hem of my left sleeve, itching to gently rub my shoulder and upper arm in comfort, a habit that had formed over the past few years.

"I miei ringraziamenti a te, dolcezza." She replied warmly. Her whiskey coloured eyes twinkled at me mischievously. "Can I interest you in anything? Perhaps, a new ring?"