Ureshiitamago: There was someone who expressed interest, so here it is!
"My interest in the boy next door started when I was reeeaaally young," A wrinkled old lady told several young children, rocking back and forth in her rocking chair and staring at the ornate ceiling above her. The children, two with fire-red hair and one with black hair, leaned forward eagerly, their eyes—one set blue, two sets green—sparkling.
"Who was the boy next door, Nonna?" the only girl—black hair, blue eyes—asked before pushing up the glasses which were threatening to fall down her face. The old lady smiled, and played with her wedding ring, which looked like forget-me-nots, treaded together around her finger.
"Why, he was your Nonno of course, poppet," An old man said cheerily as he hobbled through the double doors into the large library. The only large and ornate room in the house. The three children immediately were shouting questions at the old couple, who shared looks of amusement, remembering a time when their children, and then their children's-children had asked the same questions. Now, it seemed as though it was their great-grandchildren's turn to ask for their story. The old man's green eyes twinkled merrily, and he slowly sat down on a rocking chair that was placed next to his wife's, and slowly, he started rocking.
"I believe your Nonna is going to tell the story," The old man said, smiling the old woman, whose blue eyes widened before narrowing at her husband.
"I told the story last time," she reminded him. The old man pouted.
"But you tell it better, Raven."
"Harry…"
"Pleeeeaaaasssee tell us the story, Nonna?" One of the red haired boys asked, clasping his hands together. The other boy nodded seriously.
"Yes, Nonno doesn't tell it well enough," his voice was grave, like someone had died. Raven laughed, blue eyes twinkling.
"That sounds like something my madre, Bianca Colombo, would say," she said.
"Bianca was a force of nature," said Harry, shaking his head. "I deeply regret her passing."
"It wasn't something that either of us could have stopped," Raven countered with a dismissing wave of her hand. "Mamma knew what she was doing."
"What happened?" The raven haired girl asked eagerly. Harry turned to his wife, who sighed in reluctance.
"Fine," she said, "but only this time." And so, she began.
