You May Say I'm a Dreamer

gracie-mancini:

Gracie immediately flinched when she took in Laurent. That didn’t stop her from immediately moving toward the Frenchman when he winced from turning to quickly. She almost scolded herself for reacting in such a way.

Instead, she scolded herself for not having thought to stand more in the direction he was facing before she spoke. But that required a great deal of courage that she didn’t have at the moment. One cautious foot in front of the other she was finally further into the room and hopefully more visible in his current position.

When he spoke, she looked away. The raven-haired Italian had no clue as to what to say to that. Of course he wasn’t expecting to see her. A month removed and she was still so embarrassed by what happened. Embarrassed but she still felt justified.

“I wasn’t expecting to be here either,” she said softly, squeezing her gift tighter in her vice grip.

Why the fuck was she here?

After a brief breather in which he attempted to regain his composure–lost not only as a result of the pain, but the presence of the young woman in general–Laurent took to his cufflinks in defiance. Any excuse not to have to look at her seemed like a good one. 

A part of him knew, even after all that had been said during their last exchange, that they’d speak again. They always did.

If it hadn’t been for the gift he’d noticed her clinging onto for dear life, he might have assumed she was here to scold him about the beating he’d dealt her new loverboy. It would be a lie to say he hadn’t gone there with the intention of hurting him, but Nate’s provocation had made the already easy task that much more so. Laurent didn’t regret it for a second. He also knew Gracie knew better than to expect any remorse from a man who rarely had any to offer.

“Were you there when it happened?” Laurent turned his head just enough to see her expression, this time.

Gracie might have seen her fair share of terrible things back home, but it didn’t detract from the fact she was (and had always been) a gentle soul. Enough of her friends had been hurt in the mess. Laurent could only hope she hadn’t witnessed any of it firsthand.

That night was still fresh. Her dress still hung in the closet in the hotel room and heels still scuffed in a forgotten corner. Yes, Gracie went that night, Nate stubbornly in tow, but when Laurent asked, she couldn’t immediately answer.

“Thankfully I was busy working from my hotel room,” she lied, giving a soft smile.

Neither of them benefited from the truth. What good did it do Laurent to hear Gracie say yes? Yes, she heard the gunshots. Yes, she watched the chaos unfold. Yes, she hadn’t slept peacefully since. What good did it do the eldest Mancini daughter?

Clearing her throat and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she took a seat in one of the generic, plastic chairs in the corner. Cold and hard, she noted. The seat wasn’t too far from Laurent but it also wasn’t all that close. A comfortable distance.

Animals of Launceston?

Indeed. The city seems to have expelled them all and sent them here

Except for you, of course, Ms. Mancini.

Why don’t hotels have an oven and cooking space designated for guests? I have a serious need to stress bake and the hotel is saying my request is “weird” and borderline “insanity.”

Instead, she scolded herself for not having thought to stand more in the direction he was facing before she spoke. But that required a great deal of courage that she didn’t have at the moment. One cautious foot in front of the other she was finally further into the room and hopefully more visible in his current position.

When he spoke, she looked away. The raven-haired Italian had no clue as to what to say to that. Of course he wasn’t expecting to see her. A month removed and she was still so embarrassed by what happened. Embarrassed but she still felt justified.

While there were lots of people that Ronnie missed back home in Launceston, Gracie was most certainly one of the few she’d missed most of all. After Marcello had died, Gracie had never given up on trying to break through the brick wall the Ronnie had built up. And while it had taken awhile, Gracie had been one of the first people Ronnie had called when she was finally ready to talk. To finally have her in Porto was one of the best things that had happened to Ronnie since she’d moved. “I don’t even care that TMI ruined the surprise,” Ronnie said with a smile as she pulled back from the hug. “I’m just so happy that you’re here.” Stepping aside so Gracie could actually enter the house, Ronnie waved her in. “C’mon, I need to give you a tour of Casa de Ronnie.”