𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

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His frail body shivered at the freezing breeze as he trudged slowly across the icy blanket of snow that had smothered the ground.

It was only early morning and the sun had began to break through the sky, its rays of light starting to shine across the wide horizon. The white field was tranquil and silent; the only sound he could hear was the faint noises of his ripped trainers crunching against the wet snow which began to soak his thin socks underneath, icing his toes.

He was usually up quite early as a way of protecting himself at home. Tired as usual, he shuffled through the thick snow. Once upon a time, he did love the winter but as he grew older, he lost the sense of purpose. The days went on and on and either way, whatever weather he was still living the same, dull life so the seasons didn't matter to him anymore.

The snow was falling heavier than usual, each snowflake attaching and quickly dissolving into water against his clothes, landing on his long eyelashes and swirling around him. It soothed his bulging, swollen bump on his cheek, the crisp feather like flakes healing the burning sensation spreading across his face. He trembled at each touch of the snow that mixed with his tears, it was painful moving with the bruises scattered across his face but simultaneously it alleviated some of the discomfort his father had caused him.

It was unbearably cold outside. His lips were chapped and his face was drained of all its colour, leaving him with the tinted marks of abuse on his face. His small fingertips were pale and reddish. He tried to ease the feeling of cold by putting his hands into his small pockets however it was in vain as there were holes bringing the chill into his useless coat. Sniffing, he wiped the snot with the back of his sleeve that dripping out of his nose as a response to the frosty weather. All he could think about was how much his body hurt, especially his stinging ears. They were pulled upwards earlier and now victim to the horrible weather surrounding him, ice cold.

He quietly whimpered and winced at the stinging pain inflaming his cheeks. Once again, he had been beaten by his drunken father for not perfectly remembering and reciting the omertà, as well as not being 'respectful' enough to his father's standards.

The boy was covered in bruises, his skin lacked any smoothness or clearness, splotches of chaffed patches took over him. He wore long sleeved shirts and long trousers every single day to cover his scars. That particular day, he even wore a turtleneck top to cover up the signs of strangulation his father had embedded onto his skin. Even in the steaming, hot summer, he would wear those heavy, dark clothes to hide the crimes of his father.

Despite his young age, he knew what he was doing and where he was going. In his throbbing mind, the only thing he desired was peace which he sought for that early morning.

He was used to constant beating, the frequent yelling and abuse at home. At school, things were worse. He was a victim to violent bullying to the point where the week before, he had his hands almost burned in the science classroom for apparently staring too hard at his perpetrators. His teachers paid no attention to him as his father had connections with the school. There was no way they were going to expose an abused child and face the consequences of his father. The boy was left to deal with the pain alone.

At that point of his life, he was an extremely feeble boy with no confidence in himself and his abilities. If only he knew how strong and powerful he would be as he got older. He couldn't see it then; he couldn't visualise anything for his future then. The only thing he had accepted was that he was most likely going to die at the hands of his own father. He wished to at least have choice on how he died.

Swallowing roughly, he continued to walk to what he thought to soon be his place of death. Alone and scared, he embraced the thought that was soon about to be put in place. His heart was pounding faster and faster as he approached the ladder leading to the top of an old building.

Grasping onto the frozen iron pipes, he pulled himself upwards and began climbing to the top of the building. Once he reached his destination, it was daunting that he was finally where he needed to be.

No one would find him there. It would be a perfect place to escape any people or distractions that could hold him back from something he had been thinking and thinking of doing for weeks on end.

His lips were quivering at that point. As he reached the edge, he realised how much of a great decision he was about to make.

As he expected, he began to think about his family - his real family. His father wasn't a part of his idealistic thought of them. His mind wandered to his mother. How would she react to his passing? He struggled to remember how she used to look like before his father got so violent. All the boy could remember about her was her broken smile; her lips were always split and dried with blood. Those downcast eyes that had lost their motherly shine and replaced with melancholy and fear. She had suddenly aged more; her face had become so sullen and gloomy, she was a woman living yet dead on the inside.

But still, she was his mother. Of course, she would grieve deeply over his death. She loved the boy deeply. Just before he had left, she had attempted to soothe the pain of the punches and cried to him, apologising that he had to expedience something so brutal that wasn't even his or her fault. She made him his favourite breakfast that morning before she sent all the children to school. Obviously, he hadn't attended and instead was stood on top of a building he planned to jump off.

And his siblings certainly appeared in his mind as he gripped onto the steel bar. How could he leave them? It was only hours before where he was defending them from their father. Everyday, he had to protect them alongside his mother. He was their rescuer and he wanted to be their saviour for them from the monster they lived with. He didn't want his siblings to become victims of their father.

What about his poor sister? How would she cope? He thought about how sick she had been the last couple of days; her condition only seemed to be getting worse. She was attached to her brothers - how could she handle one of them missing? How could he explain what he did for his own selfish desire of peace?

The thought of them uncovering the sheet and seeing his dead body lying on the snow automatically brought him to his knees that pressed hard against the ice cold floor whilst he gripped tighter onto the bar, sobbing. He couldn't bring himself to hurl over the building.

He was deeply weeping, his hot tears running down his cheeks as he struggled to breathe at how distraught he felt - his chest felt unbearably tight and uncomfortable as he found it difficult to stop bawling at the thought and fear of death. He was so comfortable with it before but now in the face of it, he couldn't even think of killing himself.

If he left, nothing would change. His father would still assert his power over his family and probably relish in the fact that he had died. Things would only get worse. But the boy couldn't make himself turn back around and go home - he couldn't stand the fact that he would have to continue that inhumane life of merely surviving.

"Why are you sat there blubbering like a baby?"

He flinched immediately at the sound of a young, female voice. His head snapped upwards to find the sound and his eyes landed upon a small, skinny girl standing straight on the thin, metal bar surrounding the top of the building.

His eyes expanded in shock as his jaw dropped at the sight of her so close to the edge, balancing on her bare feet on the bar.

She was wearing a summer dress - a short, juniper floral dress with lace trims with no tights on. Her hair was brunette and whirling around as the cold wind blew in different directions. She raised her eyebrows at him then let out a small snigger, covering her mouth.

He blinked in surprise at her sudden mocking gesture and immediately stopped crying. He was astonished that she was wearing such light clothes despite the horrendous weather they were stuck in. Feeling embarrassed that she was staring the entire time, the boy quickly wiped his cheeks, hissing quietly as he pressed too hard against his bump.

She noticed his pain and softened her teasing look, her grey eyes skimmed across his body as she took in his rough state. "You came all the way here and you don't even have the guts to jump off," she nonchalantly pointed out. He felt suddenly angry at her careless tone - she knew nothing about him and yet commented as if she had the right.

Looking down meekly, he noticed that her feet were covered in bruises, peeling skin and tinges of blood. They looked as though they had been whipped and scratched. He discerned the red lines across her ankles as well. He had never seen nothing like it. His eyes went back up to her in shock at how she managed to even stand with that condition.

She lightly laughed, finding amusement. "If you die here, no one will find you, do you know that?" She didn't even look cold - that was what freaked him out. Her bare arms were in the air with not one sign of goosebumps - how was it possible that she was so liberated?

He fixed his posture and began fiddling with his fingers. "I-I-I know that. . .that was the point," he stammered, feeling intensely warm and sweaty all of a sudden as he struggled to maintain eye contact with her powerful gaze.

She laughed again, shaking her head. He wanted to ask what was so funny but he lacked the confidence to speak.

"I dare you go jump."

He blinked a few times again in fright at her sudden dark words, gulping nervously.

"N-No. . .I don't want to. . ."

The unfamiliar girl tutted in disapproval. "No fun. You can't do it, I can't do it. No fun at all." She sighed in disappointment and began walking across the bar in her top toes, surprising the boy again at her ability.

"How-How are you d-doing that?" He managed to say, his eyes wide at the sight of her moving so freely across a thin bar. She smirked, her arms wide in the air as she moved with grace.

"My mother taught me how to. I can't fall from here because I'm too good at balancing. Isn't that a shame?"

Perplexed at her words, he suddenly felt unsafe being around such a deranged girl.

"Aren't you cold?" He asked her in sincere curiosity.

She giggled, her damaged feet dancing again on the bar. She looked light there. Her legs were thin and toned, moving so freely as if she was a ballerina.

"Of course I am. But it's not that bad today, don't you think?" The girl replied nonchalantly, as she caught a snowflake in her small hand. Her cold breath was evident in the air making his eyebrows furrow at the sight. "I didn't get a chance to wear my coat before I left. But it's okay, I like the cold, don't you?" He couldn't agree with her - at least spring was somewhat better. She was indeed a very, very strange girl to him.

"W-Where are you from? I-I've never seen you around h-here before."

Not just anyone could move into his father's area. She had to important. She stopped again, and looked across the sky whilst he squeezed his hands together in anxiety. "I just moved here." The girl gave him a genuine smile, showing off her adorable dimples.

"I'm Maria. What's your name?"

She extended her hand out to him from above. Hesitating, he took a few small steps towards her before finally shaking her hand briefly and quickly letting go. Her smaller hand was ice cold yet incredibly soft, he knew then that she was human and did feel the cold. He felt concerned for her and considered giving her his jacket so she wouldn't die of hypothermia but he knew how cold he himself felt despite wearing a thick jumper underneath.

He was unsure of sharing his name to a complete stranger but despite her weird self, he felt as though there would be no harm in telling his new neighbour.

"I'm. . .I'm Leonardo."

Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she stopped twirling on the bar.

"Romano?"

He was surprised she knew his family name. During that part of his life, he hated the power his surname held, the constant reminder of his father. She must have been someone insightful if she knew his family. He felt weary all of a sudden again - what were her intentions? He had so many questions as to who she was and why she was even there.

"H-How do you know?"

She laughed again, the cheerful, melodious sound filling his ears. She found his voice cute - it was deep yet filled with innocence. "Silly, everyone knows who they are. My father works with them. Now I live right next to them." She paused and looked at him more seriously. "Or should I say, now I live right next to you."

The two had no idea at that point in time that they are soon to be engaged to each other as an alliance of both families.

The boy swallowed roughly at her intense attention on him. He felt small under her strong gaze. A new neighbour? How had he not noticed before? He was so overwhelmed by his tornado of thoughts that he hadn't seen the moving van coming in that early morning.

The girl sighed again as she danced across the bar that the boy questioned if it was actually moving or if it was just the wind. "My parents are already arguing and we haven't even fully unpacked yet. I hate living with them." Her unexpected confession made him look at her again. She looked sad. He wondered if too she was like him; an abused child.

"You seem to have your fair share of problems too," the girl acknowledged, her kind eyes running across his face in concern. She knew she had it hard at home and in a few hours, she could probably go back and it would be in a better state than before. But she did seriously need to go back otherwise she would have to face the wrath of her mother once again. His vivid scars confirmed to her that he was a victim in his home. She felt sympathy for him and an overwhelming sense to protect him.

In her eyes, he was pretty cute despite all the bruises and marks. She knew then that he had to be hers. Hers to protect and love.

He bit his bottom lip. The knowingness between them was strong; she could read him completely without even knowing his full life. "Nothing I can't handle," he failed to say in an assured tone, sounding weak but she chuckled again, raising an eyebrow. "Oh really? Should I just ignore what you tried to do?" His cheeks felt incredibly hot at her teasing - he wasn't used to such behaviour from a girl.

"Oh, I can't do it! Oh, what a mistake!" She mocked cruelly, continuing to attempt to make light out of the situation as she faked cried. He didn't find any entertainment in his previous dilemma and took this opportunity to turn around, leave and retreat to his awful life. How could she make fun of his problems? He hoped to never see her again despite the fact that they lived next to each other.

"Hey! Hey! Don't leave! I was just joking - I'm sorry, Mr. I'm-so-depressed-that-I-can't-even-take-a-joke!"

The boy completely ignored her and she frowned at his figure leaving, his footsteps leaving prints across the fresh snow. That could've been her only chance of making a new friend - she couldn't lose him. Quickly thinking of a way of bringing back his attention, she cried out, "wait! Look at this!"

"Look at how high I can jump!"

Even though he was facing the other direction, he saw the calamity before she could.

Swiftly, he turned back around and starting to run towards her as she lifted herself upwards, her legs separating into a perfect split in the air, unexpectedly flashing her light pink underwear as the wind blew against her. Her eyes widened in surprise and embarrassment as she came back down from the high leap, only to land incorrectly - her foot twisted, hurting her ankle as she stumbled on the shaking bar, beginning to fall backwards. She yelped at the excruciating pain and more importantly at the fear of death.

It was the loudest she had ever shrieked in her life as she saw it flash by her eyes. The horrifying feeling off a loss of control as she began to fall with nothing to hold onto to stop her from dying. That was it for her, she thought. Her talents in dance were lacking, she would never be able to prove herself to her mother as an extraordinary dancer. She thought she must've been too fat to be able to stand perfectly on the bar - she was an inexperienced and useless dancer who had failed completely despite all the hard work she had endured.

The wind slammed against her body, pushing her down when out of the blue, a rough hand yanked forwards her wrist and forced her body forwards, away from the edge and against him.

The two immediately fell backwards as she screamed in horror. The boy's body slammed violently against the floor, opening a few healed wounds of his. He winced and cried out in pain as she yelped at the sudden force her head smashed against his chest. But the pain didn't matter because she was saved.

"You idiot. How could you do something so stupid!" He snapped so clearly, it was if he wasn't stammering moments before.

She was breathless and managed to lift her heavy head, staring at him in bewilderment. She winced, feeling the throbbing begin. "Did you - did you just insult me?"

He bursted out, "yes, I did! What were you thinking?"

The boy forcibly pushed her off him so she landed onto the cold snow on her back, her bare skin touching the freezing cold snow. She winced in pain, her ankle beginning to sting. At the point, she was freezing, her body began to shake at the cold weather and the fear of almost dying.

"It's your fault. . .for-for running off!" She rebutted though she was grateful he had saved her life, it was her turn to stutter. He noticed how much she was trembling as he sat up and wiped the flakes of snow off his clothes. Her lips were quivering and she had lost all colour to her. Her eyes were beginning to lose consciousness and she started to fall backwards.

"No!" He exclaimed, shuffling forwards and lifting her head. The girl sat up, though she was swaying slightly and uncontrollably shaking and looking extremely ill. The boy swiftly took off his jacket, the cold hitting him, and wrapped it around her, pulling her close to his warmer chest. He held onto her tightly, his cold hands frantically rubbing her bare arms as he heavily breathed on her neck.

"Don't fall asleep! Don't! Come on!" He panicked, his hands moving as quick as they could up and down her body as she struggled to breathe easily.

"I'm.  . .s-so c-c-cold. . ." She managed to say, burying her head in his warmer neck.

"You dumb fool - why did you leave without your coat! And w-why are you wearing summer clothes?" He sighed, his eyes looking around frantically for help but he knew it was no use. The building was a place where not everyone could find it easily.

"Mom. . .kicked me. .out the house. ."

He frowned, beginning to sense that he had misjudged her. "Let's get out of here." He pulled the girl up as he managed to stand, grimacing at the pain he was beginning to feel at his side. He was sure blood was beginning to seep out of the wound his father had given him a few days before.

"Ah!" She exclaimed, tears starting to fill her eyes as she struggled to stand on her left foot. "I can't - I can't stand. My foot-" she gasped as he shakily lifted her up in pain, carrying her off the ground.

She clutched onto his clothes, trying to stop herself from crying by biting down hard onto her bottom lip as he held back from crying out in pain.

"Come on, we'll have to go inside the building to get you home."

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~ Author's Note ~

The first meeting of Leonardo and Maria!

Thoughts?

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