Yes, I am working on my first romance oneshot to distract myself from some things. I apologize to my readers for not updating in while. I have writer's block, and not enough time. Hopefully you all understand. Anyways, the pairing is FedericoxReader, because Federico deserves the love, and I'm probably the biggest Federico fangirl out there. Sorry that I don't do the (Your Name) thing and instead already give the reader a name. I have most of this planned out, but I'm having trouble writing it. And since I have it planned out, I know what will happen. As you all know, Federico dies with Giovanni and Petruccio, and that will probably be the hardest part for me to write, even harder than writing the romance scenes...In any case, this takes place two years before the game, so Federico is 18, and the reader will most likely be a year younger than him, 17. Anyways, reviews will be helpful, because even though the romance hasn't even started yet, I would like some advice. Again, I'm sorry my readers. Thank you for all the reviews, faves, and story alerts! I love you all!!
1474 Firenze, Italy.
"Michela," my father called, just outside of my door. "Mia figlia[1], are you in there?" I turned around from my place on the balcony, smiling.
"Yes, father, I am." The door slowly opened, and in stepped my father, grinning warmly once he saw me.
Father was in his late forties, with a few wrinkles here and there. His hair was a light brown, which I had inherited at birth. My father's name was Emilio Angeletti, and he was a nobleman of Firenze. He worked as a banker at the Banca di Medici, and he had that job ever since he was a young apprentice. He may have taken his duty seriously, but when it came to family, he was a loving, thoughtful father, and I was proud of being his daughter.
"Ah. You look wonderful, Michela," he commented as strode over to me, and we embraced lightly. He pulled back to observe my new dress, which he had bought for this occasion, and he nodded. "Just like your mother," he added softly, and I grinned out of embarrassment, before I hugged him again.
"Thank you, father." I blinked when I realized something, and I glanced over my father's shoulder to the doorway. "Speaking of mother, where is she?"
Father smiled before gesturing with his chin to the balcony. "Waiting outside, as we speak."
I grinned, and lowered my arms. "Then we shouldn't keep her waiting." Father nodded, and gestured for me to follow him as he walks to the door.
"You are right. She has been looking forward to this ever since I had it arranged." I giggled to myself as we walked down the hall, before we began descending the stairway.
"But of course. To be painted by Leonardo da Vinci," I paused, my smile widening. I quickly walked down the last few steps, and entered the foyer, before performing an excited twirl. I turned to stare up at my father, beaming. "That is truly a wonderful opportunity." He laughed after watching my little display, slowly stepping down the stairs.
"Indeed, it is." He sighed as he took a moment to glance around the foyer. "It's been quite a while since I last requested an artist to paint for us." He started walking to the front door, and I fell into step with him as he added, "And I've never met this Leonardo." He opened the door, gesturing for me to go first, and he followed me after stepping out and closing the door.
"I heard he's a genius," I said, turning to face my father, pure excitement on my face.
"And a wonderful artist, too," added a familiar voice. I turned around and saw my mother, who smiled as she walked up to father and I.
My eyes brightened, and I ambled towards the woman, before giving her a hug, which she returned.
"Mother, how are you?" I asked, pulling back with a warm smile.
"Just fine." I moved to the side, allowing father to walk up to mother, and they both smiled. Father leaned down and softly kissed mother on the lips.
"Hello, my love," he said to her. I smiled at them, and watched as they exchanged a few words.
"Hello, Emilio." She kissed him on the cheek, before she looked at me, which caused father to do the same as she said, "Isn't she beautiful?" I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. My parents had a tendency to talk about me as if I was out of earshot. "She looks so gorgeous in that new dress you bought for her."
"Si[2]," my father agreed, and he buried his face in mother's hair, smiling to himself. "She looks just like you." He looked at me, and I sighed inwardly as he listed, "Begli occhi[3], un sorriso magnifico[4], la faccia di un angelo[5]." He looked down into mother's eyes. "All inherited from you, my love." I turned my attention elsewhere, desperately trying to block out their words as they continued their conversation.
My eyes found a crowd of men down the street, all of them surrounding two forms, moving swiftly within the circle. The men cheered them on, shouting encouragingly and punching their fists in the air. I arched an eyebrow, and took one glance back at my parents, before I began walking to the crowd. Is there a fight going on? I found myself thinking as I quietly walked past a few people. I could hear punches being thrown as I approached the circle, and I stopped several feet away from the crowd, thinking it would be best to keep my distance.
From my place, I strained to catch a glimpse of the fight, trying to watch through the few gaps in the throng. Unfortunately, I could only catch a couple movements of two bodies as the fistfight continued. I frowned slightly, before sighing and turning back around, getting ready to return to my parents. As I began to walk back the way I had come from, I heard a loud grunt, and I looked back just in time to see a man thrown out of the crowd. He landed on the ground face-first, just a foot away from me, and he coughed as clouds of dust surrounded him. I arched an eyebrow, and the man groaned slightly, before he got up to his feet, rubbing his head and brushing the dirt off his clothes.
He looked like he was my age, perhaps a bit older, judging from his strong jawline. He had dark, black hair that parted just above his right eye, and it was combed neatly to the sides. His eyes were a deep brown, and he was wearing a red doublet with a white shirt underneath, the white clothing's collar emerging from around his neck. He wore a pair of black hoses and brown boots that stopped below his knees.
I returned my gaze to the man's face, and noticed he had a bloody lip with a painful looking bruise on his right cheek. I made the connection and assumed he was one of the men in the fistfight. When he looked up at me, I couldn't help but stare at him with wide eyes. It's not everyday a man (quite handsome at that) is thrown at your feet. He blinked at me in surprise, before he looked me up and down, but not in that lustful way man most men would do. Instead, he studied me with that same surprised face, and I fought down the urge to walk away. This man was a troublemaker, that was no doubt. It'd be smart to stay away from men like him, but there was something interesting about him. He may be handsome, but it wasn't his looks that piqued me. It was...something else.
By the way, I'll probably come up with a title once I'm done writing this. I might have gone a bit overboard with the Italian, but I couldn't help myself. And I might edit this, because I left out some stuff on the mom and might edit some more things. Thanks for reading!
[1] Mia figlia-my daughter
[2] Si-yes (obvious, right?)
[3] Begli occhi-beautiful eyes
[4] Un sorriso magnifico-a magnificent smile
[5] La faccia di un angelo-the face of an angel