GUYS

I KNOW YOU CAN SCREAM AT ME, I HAVEN'T UPDATED.

God Lauren pull yourself together!

I can't believe I wrote so much about a church, seems a bit weird to me I don't know.

Hope you enjoy! :) x

-Lx
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~Clara~

"I still don't understand why we need to go to church" I grumble moodily as Milo opens my car door with a chuckle and all three of us pile out in the Church car park. "And secondly, why the fuck am I wearing a dress?"

"Clara!" Nona scolds, waggling a slightly bony finger in my face and shaking her head at me. Milo snorts in the background, chuckling lightly as we walk across the bumpy tarmac. We again must look like a sight; a tall rather attractive man in his late 20's in one of Italy's finest suits no doubt, who is walking beside a little rather plump little old lady dressed for what looks like a wedding, with a large white feather fascinator in her hair, clutching at her white clutch like it were a weapon. And then next to the old lady is a smaller than average, bored out of her mind teenager, grumpy as she be for being woken up early on the weekends for the simple matter of church, who was forced to go to the Sunday church service in some frilly black dress that makes me look like a w emo doll.

Sarcastic cheer anyone?

"Well I'm sorry. But you didn't go when I arrived last week. And you didn't mention anything about it, I know you're religious Nona, but not this religious"

"Personal reasons for Milo, I thought it might give him some guidance" she explains in a snap, not looking at me as we near the aging front doors of the hefty stone building. I glance at Milo who also doesn't meet my eyes, instead averting his eyes to the building "And I like to come sometimes, the vicar knows me well"

"Not too well I hope" I quicken my steps to try and see any signs of guilt on her face, as my stomach drops. Nona is a bit of a gossip, I can sort of see her waltzing up to the Vicar, slapping her hand on his arm, a little tipsy from the communion wine as she says: "I'm Franco Devoto's Mum you know, had to go into hiding, expecting my granddaughter anytime now" and then what do you know we all end up in prison. Hopefully she's not this keen in spreading all gossip.

"Oh gosh no, don't you worry Clara, no one around here knows my family history, even if my face was once all over the newspapers, I've aged a lot since then"

"Right, and what do you mean guidance for Milo, am I missing something?!" I glance between the two of them, Nona smacks a hand to her forehead and groans at my consistence, Milo is now more silent, less jokey and I frown at his odd change of personality.

"Not here Clara" she hisses and I instantly shut up, lowering my head to lock at the slightly cobbled path that I'm having trouble walking over. My flowy black dress flutters beneath my knees as the three of us walk towards the busy-looking entrance to the grand church. I scan the crowd for someone I know, but frown when I don't. I shouldn't be disappointed, I hardly know anyone as it is.

According to Dad that's a good thing. God the way he prepped me in the letter you'd think he was imagining I would just leap onto the table at the front of the altar and scream "I'm Clara Devoto and I'm the Italian Mafia Boss' daughter! Now let's celebrate with a party and I can teach you all to use guns" the way he was going about it.

When inside, I examine the walls, each covered with tapestries and painting duplicates, the amount of people results in me feeling anxious again like I was at the airport. They won't know who I am surely?

Nona gestures at the vicar with a much too enthusiastic wave for a Sunday morning and the slightly balding man who is standing with two very elderly people excuses himself. He hurries down from his slightly raised stage to greet us, waving his arms in the air and I lean away with widening eyes. He pushes his wire spectacles up his nose as he smiles warmly at us, clasping his energetic hands together.

"Reverend Peter, this is my granddaughter Clara who is staying with me for a while, and her uncle Milo" she gestures to us with a proud smile, placing her arms round our necks, forcing both us down slightly as we are taller than her, me only slightly. But both us still wince.

"Lovely to meet you both. Sir, if you would kindly follow me" He quickly dismiss us and I furrow my eyebrows at him. Milo nods and I open my mouth to question the action but Nona hits my side with her handbag. I glare at her subtly, clutching my side and rubbing away at the mild pain.

Milo is drawn away by the vicar swiftly through an otherwise locked door, the door closing behind them and I turn to Nona who is watching him with a solemn expression. Holding her bag close and removing her tiny arm from around my shoulders, I straighten up and look at her questioningly.

"Alright Nona what's going on?" She sighs, turning carefully to look up at me with a grave frown.

"You remember Mara? Lovely little woman who worked at that bakery in Rome?"

"Milo's Mother?"

"Yes, well...sadly she died about a week ago"

"Oh my god" I'm left speechless, Milo's mother Mara was one of the sweetest humans I had the pleasure to meet, always ruffling my hair and giving me little gifts. She used to smell distinctly of lavender oil and always baked little cakes for the Mafia. Milo used to absolutely idolise her and the ground she walked on, considering his Dad left when he was little, Mara brought him so well and made him the great person he is today. I can't...I can't believe she's just gone.

"She was gravely ill at the time you left Italy Clara, and you know how close Milo was to his mother"

"She was such a lovely woman, oh my god poor Milo" I place my hands on my cheeks, the shock struggling to let the fact sink in. She can't possibly be gone.

"He's being so strong, I'm so proud of him, hasn't stopped him from working. The funeral was roughly 5 days ago, such a shame...she was a good friend of mine, we used to write to each other in code so we weren't sussed out"

"I feel so bad oh...he helped me get away and his Mum was back home really ill...oh fuck"

"Clara!"

"Sorry! It's just that..." I'm cut off when my eyes land on someone stood on the other side of all the solid benches in several rows; in a smart black suit with an extremely posh looking Man and Woman stood slightly in front of him, the woman turns to clap a hold on his shoulder and he jumps, looking up from the spot on the floor to the person his parents were talking to. He smiles wide and my mind thinks back to yesterday.

Elliot.

My mouth goes dry again as I faintly hear Nona saying something at my side, she follows my eyes to where he stands in his immaculate suit, talking rather business-like with a random old man as his

Parents stand beside him, smiling at him proudly.

"Clara?!...Oh I see" Nona snickers from my side, I blink and jolt at the sound of her voice, turning back to look at her as she raises her eyebrows and smirks at me wide. I feel myself flush and my eyes look away from her teasing expression.

"I'm assuming that is Elliot"

"N-No"

"Clara why are you stuttering, don't be silly, I know who Elliot Samuels is"

"You do?"

"Clara, his parents are two of the best fundraisers this town has to offer, they always come to church because they are responsible for keeping it still standing"

"Really?"

"Yes, do you want to go and say hello?"

I think back again to yesterday, his eyes, the calming blue ways after the storm, staring straight at me, almost through me, the feel of his hands on my arms, his shy little smile and how he...

It's just bowling. Why am I getting so worked up over bowling?!

Bowling, bowling, BOWLING.

"No thanks. I just want to get this over with"

"Alright dear. Come on then, let's go and get us some seats" she puts her hand onto my waist and guides me through the crowd of people, to one of the pews, she takes a seat and drags me down next to her, I wince as the green and rather dusty cushion proves totally useless against the solid wood. I squirm uncomfortably, shifting around on the cushion and wincing each time as I hit the hard oak.

"Sorry about that" I glance up in an instant at Milo's voice, he looms above us with a paler complexion, but with redder cheeks and bloodshot and watery eyes. His eye lashes are longer and blacker than usual due to the moisture and his watery blue eyes appear down and lonesome.

"Milo..." I begin, dragging off with no words to say and a gaping mouth, he shakes his head and smiles weakly, tapping me on the shoulder as he passes me to sit on the other side of Nona. I watch him worriedly as he sniffs and takes out a falling apart tissue that he daps at his eyes and blows his nose on.

***

~Elliot~

After the long and tiresome service, I find myself walking around looking for Hugo, I keep my head up as he's rather tall and he won't be any lower than my vision. I walk around with my hands stuffed in my pockets, eyes searching over every face and body, I see the back of someone's head that looks kind of like his and I stop.

"Oofh!"

I'm knocked off my feet momentarily but I quickly regain my balance, I catch whoever it is that has walked into me and place them too back on the feet in a quick movement. I look down to see none other than Clara, pushing a lock of brown hair behind her ear and flushing embarrassingly as she looks up at me.

"Clara" I say simply, in a shocked way with raised eyebrows. She too seems surprised to have bumped into me.

"Elliot. I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry...what are you doing here? I mean...um" I stutter to her trying to explain myself as she stands looking totally horrified at walking into me, clutching her arm as if I hurt her. She smiles weakly and shrugs it off, shaking her head to what I assume is a way off trying to calm me.

"Nona comes to the service sometimes, and my Uncle is struggling with grief, she thought it would be a good way to help him"

"Oh. I'm so sorry for...his...your loss"

I look down at her arm once she nods in thanks and smiles in appreciation, I place my hands without doing a lot of thinking, on her arm to examine it and she shifts it in my grasp, eyes wide, with flushed cheeks. I gulp and avoid her eyes, staring between them.

"I-I'm fine Elliot. I just hit my arm on the wood"

"No Clara I should've been looking where I was going" I shake my head at my stupidity.

I look down at her arm, slightly red from where she hit it, a little blotchy from where the other section of her fading-tanned skin was not affected. My eyes dart to my long thin fingers wrapped around her arm, I tense my fingers, testing a result from her even though my brain is screaming at me to just remove my hand and say goodbye. I slowly raise my head to meet her eyes, she looks up at me with a sense of fragility, unknown emotions swimming in her hazel eyes, which are speckled with golden flecks of brown almost the same shade as her hair. It's like brown just wasn't good enough for her eyes and her genes said "you know what? She's too special, add some green in too" Our eyes remain anchored, it's almost as if neither of us actually can look away, like there's some sort of strange magnetic force holding us together. Except she's the south and I'm the North.

"Oi Ely!" A familiar voice echoes off of the ancient church walls, we both jump, I remove my hands from her arm and she looks away flushing the prettiest shade of pink. I probably look the same as my hands almost fry as I nonchalantly touch my cheeks, I spin round to see that Hugo has stopped, his eyes fixed on us, searching back and forth between us.

"Clara, we're going!"

I turn my head as Clara runs over without looking back at me to an elderly, caring looking lady who takes Clara's arm in her own, they are accompanied by a tall young man who seems to be looking upset about something. His dark brown haired bowed down to the floor, his hands in his pocket, shuffling his feet.

I observe as the woman releases Clara and trots over to the man, taking his arm and holding onto him tight as she whispers to him, pulling him from the church to the bitter weather outside, the grey sky visible through the open doorway and the nipping chill of the breeze drifting at our suits.

Clara turns around in the door way, my breathe catches in my throat at how stunning she just stands there, looking back at me. Her long curly brown hair flying at her shoulders, lips dusty pink from the chill, eyelashes fluttered against her tanned cheeks and mouth pressed in a small smile. Her black dress suits her small frame well and emphasises her body shape in a flattering way. Hazel eyes are suddenly shy but oh so bright and beautiful, appearing a yellowish golden brown at a distance, eyes that crinkle up when she laughs, brighten when she smiles or is happy and I'm sure they shine over like a polished stone when she is sad. I have to admit to myself, not matter how much my brain denies it, it admits in this moment that she is truly breath-taking in every form.

Then she's gone, disappearing from view like a brilliant dream on Monday morning. Except this time I won't be forgetting this anytime soon.

"That was really weird, I'm not going to lie" Hugo remarks, his presence now at my side as I nod my head, still staring at where she was stood with a probable gormless look about me.

"And you're sure she's not the next one to break your heart?"

I shake my head carefully, my hair slipping out of place a little when he sighs beside me.

"Well I've got my bets set up. But I'll tell you something, you're going to have trouble with this one"

His words sound wise. But I don't want any of it to be true, she's just a little bit pretty, that's all there is too it.