"Lovi!" You can't catch me!" I called as we weaved our way through the crowd.

I was seven that day Lovino chased me at my parents' reception. Both the wedding and the reception was held in our backyard. We had a big house and vast land that stretched for miles. To the east was my mama's garden. filled mostly with flowers, though did have an area mainly for veggies. Then, to the south, after a mile or two of grassy fields, was a thick, peaceful forest.

After a few twists and turns, I lost Lovino in the crowd. As I looked back to check though, I literally ran right into my parents. Daddy caught me as I stumbled back and picked me up.

"Having fun, poppet?" He asked with that British accent I've always loved so dearly.

"The best." I smiled up at him before turning to Mama.

"Mama, are you happy?" I asked her.

My parents have had fights for as long as I can remember. I'd watch it all go down from the hallway. It'd always end with Daddy sitting on the couch and facing away from her as he'd say that he's had enough and Mama would cry and have the last word before she'd run off to her bedroom. I would be notice till the very end.

They're only fought a few times from what I can remember, but it always ends up the same way. They fought the day before too. I had opened Mama's door quietly and laid with her. Mama and Daddy looked really happy the day after, but I wanted to make sure.

`"Yes, baby. Mama's very happy." She told me. "I'll always be as long as I have you and Daddy and you're baby brother."

She rubbed her tummy and smiled..

She was six months pregnant with my brother Peter at the time. Even so, she was still really beautiful. Mama had short, dirty blond hair that was almost a light brown. It was wavy with a slight curl. She also had the prettiest of eyes, as blue as the sky. She still had her long wedding dress from earlier.

My dad was so lucky to have her. In contrast to Mama's stunning looks, my dad had big bushy eyebrows over emerald green orbs with blonde hair. His looks were so average compared to hers.

Their personalities were even polar opposites. While Mama was always fun and energetic, Daddy could be a bit stern and would rather stay home and drink tea than go to parties like her. Overall, my parents have always been so different yet were so perfect for each other in a strange way.

"So what were you playing, sweetie?" Mama asked me.

"Me and Lovi are playing Princess and the Knight. He's got to catch then we are going to ride off on a big white horse."

She laughed.

"Well you better hurry before your prince get here."

"No Mama. Lovi's a knight." I giggled.

"Well, whatever he is," Daddy interjected. "He's still better than a bloody frog."

Mama playfully hit him on his shoulder.

"That's enough. I swear, you and the French." She chuckled.

"Bunch of no-good wankers…" He mumbled.

Then Lovino found me in the crowd.

"Hey, ragazza!" He called from a few feet away. "I found you!"

I quickly jumped down from Daddy's arms and ran toward the forest, knowing he'd follow.

I made it there, but tripped after going a few feet in. I fell into a tree and skinned my knee.

"Ahh!" I cried out from the ground.

Lovino was right behind me.

"Aimi!"

He hurried towards me.

The second he got there, I pulled him down next to me and stuck my tongue at him and laughed.

"That's not funny, ragazza! I thought you were hurt!" He said, mad.

I looked away.

"I am hurt." I told him. "I just don't want to be a crybaby anymore."

He was quiet.

"Is this about what those idiotas said at school?" He asked.

Then it was my turn to be quiet.

"Aimi, don't be stupido. It's okay to cry."

"L-Lovi-."

"Those jerks are scaredy-cats, waiting till I turn my back to get to you. Well, they will never get another chance, you hear?" He promised me.

I was so surprised, but nodded.

"Yeah, okay."

Lovino has been there for me when I needed him. Whether I had problems at school or home, he stayed and took care of me, no matter what.

A couple months after the wedding, Mama died giving birth to my little brother, Peter. Daddy was a messed after that. As soon she brought Peter home, he put him in the crib in nursery and just left him in there. He couldn't even look at Peter, let alone take care of him. There was one day that Peter just kept crying and crying, but Daddy never went to check on him.

I started to get worried so I went and found my dad in his study, working. I remember him seeming calm in a distracted sort of way.

"Daddy, brother is crying." I told him.

He wasn't so calm after that.

"Do you think I bloody care?!" He snapped. "Now go play! I'm working!"

Even now, I can't understand why my dad chose to be that way. I know he was hurting, but didn't mean it was okay to abandon his son.

I was hurting too, but I wasn't going to act like my dad.

I made my way to the nursery and opened the door. Peter was still crying in his crib.

I went up closer and looked at him.

"It's okay." I told him.

His tear-filled wails became a bit quieter.

"Daddy's being a big meanie to you. Mama must be mad at him, wherever she is."

The more I talked, the quieter Peter got.

"Mama wouldn't wanted you to be alone…I guess I could take care of you till Daddy gets nice again."

And so I did. Unfortunately, Daddy never got nice again, at least not to Peter. He did to me though. Outside of his work, I was the most important person to him.

During that time of my life, I didn't have Lovino to help me through it because, after my mom's death, I started to push him away. I couldn't stand to be around him; it was too unfair. Playing with him like when Mama was alive-I just couldn't.

Lovino never listened though, never stayed away. Whenever I pushed him away, he pushed back harder. He's always been so stubborn. I'm glad though 'cause I still have him today because of it.

It's been about nine years since my mom's death. I still act as a parent for Peter. I take care of him while Lovino stands by me. He's never complained when I say I have to stay home with Peter instead of going out or get mad at me when I lash out at him for no reason when I'm stressed. He's always put me first. He's a great friend, my best friend. I just wish we could be more.