Moving to Italy wasn’t exactly at the top of your bucket list, which might surprise a lot of people, but it was different in your instance.

It’s not that you didn’t like Italy, everyone dreams of visiting Venice and roaming through the stone alleyways. It was the fact that you were leaving everything in America behind to go live with your aunt for a year, who you weren’t too familiar with at all.

But her apartment complex wasn’t terrible. It’s not like it didn’t have its historical Italian charm to it, but by no means was it the suburbs you were used to. You were just now getting your first look around the place, and it’d definitely take some getting used to.

Your room was attached to the balcony that overlooked the narrow road outside. It was quite a view, you could almost get lost in it if it weren’t for the scent of cigarettes wafting towards you and a cough in your direction.

Right next door there was someone on the balcony too, a boy around your age. No hello, no nod or wave, just another puff of smoke and then right into questioning.

“You are American? Yeah?”

He kinda stared at you in a very particular way, not like he was creeping, but more so like he was observing you. The boy had these brown eyes that couldn’t be threatening even if he wanted them to be, but they certainly looked curious, especially about you.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen an American before, he just hadn’t lived beside one. You didn’t know his name yet, but Luca was sure you’d know it soon enough.