Novel Drama Chapter 7 (Aliyana)
Chapter 7 (Aliyana)
“We are stalkers Yana,” My sister mumbles from next to me as we crouch on my bed, looking through
the double windows.
I don't miss Leonardo watching us with a small smile on his thick lips. His glasses have long since left
his wandering gaze for our perusal.
We've spent the last twenty minutes peeping from the top of my bedroom window at the three of them.
They have taken their discussion to the patio. Sitting on the large outdoor beige and blue lounge suites,
we purchased just two days ago. This is great, as it makes it easier for us to see them. They are
sipping on beers, and while they seem relaxed in the soft outdoor chairs, Marco’s face is harsh as he
listens to whatever Filippo is telling him.
The two of them look rather close, very familiar. I didn’t know Filippo and Marco were on close terms. I
guess staying home for the next few weeks with my family, there is a lot I am going to find out.
Including who Marco Catelli was.
I usually try my best to not be home on the days when Ilaria is around, but Papa asked me to be home
this week.
“Make an effort, mia, your whole family is here. Your sister is getting tied soon. You can spend time
away from your friends for a few weeks, no?”
“Si Papa.”
Papa never asked me this before. I understood his sudden need to do so. Guilia didn’t like Seattle, it
brought back memories of my mother’s death.
And though she wouldn’t openly admit it to me, for fear I would be jealous, or ask questions I shouldn’t,
she missed my mother and my sister. My sister’s name wasn’t a name spoken in the family. My father
forbade it. Her memory, something he wanted everyone to forget.
I knew it ate at him like a cancer.
I knew it hurt him more knowing his wife was gone too. His fear was not for nothing.
Papa knew I would seek her out. The absence of a name would not stop me.
Leonardo stands and lifts his white shirt sleeves up, revealing the beginnings of his tattoo that starts
mid-arm.
Ren told me Leonardo, Marco, and Deno shared the same tattoo. He mentioned it was something that
bound them together. I asked him what it was, but he said he couldn’t tell me exactly.
So, one day he managed to get Deno to let him take a picture of it, and showed it to me. The art was
crossed between a Latin ancient runic language and a beast with a rosary around its chest. The tattoo
started on the left side of his forearm and ran down half his torso, the limbs of the beast-like creature
went further down to places I still blush thinking about.
Deno is built in a way that says, 'I don't get these muscles pumping iron.' His strength is something
which came naturally with his kind of work.
He wasn't punching iron, he was punching bone.
Leonard sits down as he lifts his chin up toward us again as Marco barks, “Fuck Administration.”
His voice scares me at the threat lurking in his tone.
Leonardo tells them something softly, his face curving in a small smile when Filippo laughs, and Marco
takes a sip of his beer, shaking his head.
Gosh, Leonardo is cute.
“You and Leonardo will make a great couple Aliyana. Imagine what your babies would look like? And
Marco, ah Yana,” She groans, using my nickname Ren calls me. Nudging me to move up on my king
size bed.
I chuckle and snort at my sister’s dreamy gaze. Her eyebrows are arched in a way that reminds me of
Papa’s last month when Gabriel and I got caught making pocket bombs in the basement for a prank
party we were throwing at Romero's apartment.
It wasn’t so much as the bombs that had us lying, but the fact we didn’t go for classes and we were
using gun powder.
Well, if I am honest, my father's anger stemmed mainly from the smell of the basement. Which stank
like a breeding ground for weed, thanks to Michel and Romero, who smoked a bomb while we were
busy prepping the stuff. novelbin
Papa didn’t believe a thing we said and had me take a drug test after Gabriel left. He was happy with
the results and dropped it, but I did get the receiving end of his arched brow look that said he knew that
we were up to no good and spewing shit.
“When are you going to make your move?” Guilia asks me the very question I never asked myself.
I sigh, throwing myself flat on the black and purple bedding while looking at the white crafted ceiling.
The white roofing is crafted with stars and a moon in what resembles ivory, but in the dark, it glows
blue. It was a present from Ren and Gabriel.
Papa helped by keeping me away from home for the weekend doing errands. That was almost a year
ago, yet, the beauty of the sculpted stars still amazes me when I look at it, hoping answers would fall
from the ceiling. It never does.