Prisoner 4-0-9 novel Chapter 21

Ocean POV

We were in freaking Italy. It was beautiful. It took a little over 9 hours in Trevor's jet, and I slept through most of it, but when we flew over Manarola, a small town located in northern Italy, I was in awe.

"That's where my parents live." He points down at the aesthetically illuminated place, and it surprised me that they didn't live in a mansion on the hills, or near the beach. Although the houses were fairly large from what I could see.

The lights were by far the best part as we came closer to land. I'm glad that Trevor wasn't speaking because I wouldn't have been able to answer coherent sentences. The different colors fell over the distant sea, and cause such a satisfying feel. I couldn't wait to land.

I let out a sigh of content as I rested my head on the chair again, only to catch Trevor looking at me.

"What?" I raise an eyebrow and he shakes his head.

"Nothing."

Finally descending, we step out of the plane and into the Cristoforo Columbo Airport which was about 2 hours away from Manarola.

We check out at the airport, before heading out, the area live with indistinct excited chatter of a new foreign language that slipped so naturally off the native's tongue. If the lights were nice up in the air, nothing couldn't compare to it when we were up close. They sparkled in different colors, gold being the main one, not a street left in darkness.

We left at six last night, so it was now three in the morning, and the streets were still buzzing. Not as noisy as perhaps New York would've been, but it was clear that these people were simply living life.

The buildings ranged from a little worn down with old paint and old fashioned shop signs to fresh coatings and electric blinking open signs. The road was a clean as could be, and I was glad I decided to throw a long coat on, the wind blew coldly.

"This is where you grew up?" I let out an exasperated laugh, and he chuckles.

"Questa è casa mia," He says looking down at me and my mouth drops open. Oh my, he was speaking Italian. I knew Spanish and Italian were somewhat alike, so I assumed he said something about home.

(Translation: This is my home)

"Are you hungry? We can eat before we head home? It's a bit of a long ride." I nod, not very hungry, but anxious to see more of this beautiful place. "Although we won't be heading to a restaurant or anything, we're not the city that never sleeps." I chuckle at that, and we take a short walk to a local Carrefour supermarket where we bought bread and ham.

"It's called Ciabatta," Trevor says as we check out. "Italian bread."

"Ciabatta," I repeat with a nod, but I didn't sound as good as him.

We also bought other stuff like chocolate and sweets, which were mostly from Trevor to me. I loved them.

"Luigi, dove sei? Sono fuori da Carrefour," Trevor spoke to someone on the phone and I let my eyes wander once again. I just couldn't get over it.

(Luigi, where are you? I am outside of Carrefour,)

The person says whatever on the phone and Trevor nods, "A presto,"

(See you soon)

"My driver will be here soon," he says and I nod, deciding to take a short stroll where it still had little vendors. I smiled at them, and they smiled back, a little occupied with other tourists.

One, in particular, had a little cart with roses, and I would've bought myself one if I had any money, but I only had US Dollars and they hardly accepted that. I frowned.

"dammi un intero bouquet," Trevor says to the man and his eyes drift to me before nodding and doing whatever it was Trevor told him to do. Soon, I had an entire bouquet in my hand and a cheesy grin.

"They almost match your hair," Trevor teases as he hands the man the Euro.

"Almost." I giggle, feeling like an airhead. A sleek black Ferrari pulled up in front of us and I became confused.

"This is yours?"

"It used to be. Before I moved to America." A man with a curly mustache stepped out. He had a nicely tailored navy suit, and his beard was crisp and white. His face broke into one of pure joy as he embraced Trevor.

"Luigi," Trevor greeted and I smile at their interaction. They began speaking, and soon Luigi's eyes land on mine.

"Nice to meet you." He says, almost as if he was afraid to speak. "English not very good. Luigi." He extends his hands and I widen my smile.

"Ocean,"

"I'm sorry, I forgot myself."

"Dammit." I glare at him and he eyes me.

"Hey, why are you worried about meeting my parents? My dad's American if that makes you feel better."

It did, but he wasn't about to know that.

"I can't even look up Italian cultures just to make sure she won't skin me for anything."

"My mom's pretty laid back, she isn't much into this culture, having moved to America when she was younger, then returning here with my dad. She'll love you." He assures and I bite the inside of my cheek. "It's a long ride, get comfy, and take a nap." I narrow my eyes at him for a moment, as he notices and throws me a wink.

I finally give in and set the chair back a bit, where I quickly dozed off.

People all around me were speaking, hushed whispers, and I was being carried. I knew it was by Trevor since I smelled his rich cologne. I felt so warm and comfortable in his hands, I didn't open my eyes although I was awake.

He all shushed them and soon a small noise was made as he pushed a door open and laid me onto a bed. I felt the weight shift as he himself sat, and started to remove his shoe.

I was peeking through my barely opened eyes.

"I know you're awake Ocean, it's quite obvious since you've gone way too stiff." I relax myself and open my eyes, shy smile making its way onto my lips and he peered down at them.

"My mom was in awe looking at you." He confessed. "My dad just deemed to be excited that there was another American in the house." I chuckle at that, stretching my limbs while awkwardly hiding a yawn.

"I can't wait to meet them." I murmur a bit sleepily.

"Actually you can, you seem tired and no doubt they'll bombard you with questions in the morning. Have some sleep," He takes the white covers and drapes them over me. I couldn't see in of the room, as it was still dark.

"Goodnight," I mutter, eyes drooping yet I catch his smile.

"Buonanotte, amore mio,"