Italian Coffee House [BWWM]

- C h a p t e r 2 -

Hey Rom-Cubs,

So what do y'all think so far? I, for one, love Nico and Dari. Join me in getting to know them better. Who knows? It may be worth your while.

Here's the second installation.

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Enjoy! XD I know I do.

- Ang

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Niccolo's Chocolate House

Chapter Two

*Nick*

Krysta moved to lean against the door frame. I caught the action easily but I didn't acknowledge it. A groan pierced the cool air of the living room causing me great effort to withhold a fit of laughter. I heard her subtle footsteps as she approached the rear of the couch. Frustratedly, Krysta thrust her arms around my neck so that her head sat beside mine.

"Nick ... come on ... you know that I don't like surprises." She inclined her head over to my own. "Please tell me!"

Usually, if I thought of women in general, they love surprises, don't they? So why would my baby sister hate surprises at such an age when they would be more prominent? The answer was simple or rather, complicated.

Nine years ago, our father had died of a heart attack and just six months later mother went out under the guise of getting her something for her birthday. I knew but Krysta didn't know lest she figured it out. Even at that age, she was a very smart girl. Mother left that morning before I took her to school. I was so excited to see the look on her face when she returned and surprise her with the appropriate birthday present for a seven-year-old girl.

When I picked her up from school that afternoon, my enthusiasm was near its boiling point but I didn't care I wanted her to be happy. So I brought Krysta home and sat her down on the sofa before searching all the rooms three times for our mother. What I discovered made me angry?

Imagine telling a little girl with the most jubilant spirit that her mother had left. It would have been better to say she'd gone on vacation even if she'd decided to leave on Krysta's birthday and didn't bother to mention it to me. However, it wasn't the least bit true. Our mother had left us. Krysta's father had died and now her mother was gone. Not a trace of her anywhere. Nothing.

Krysta had been devastated. Days ... Weeks on end, she'd cried her little heart out. I thank God every day that by his grace, I was able to pick up the shattered pieces that our mother had so disgustedly shattered on the ground.

"What kind of big brother are you to ignore these puppy dog eyes?" She feigned disenchantment. "Hmmmm?"

"A good one!" The phrase did circuits around my mind before it settled. Was I a good enough brother to her?

Krysta came around to the front of the couch plopping herself down beside me. As though she'd read my thoughts her small arms embraced me in a bear hug. I pulled her into my arms kissing her forehead as she did. Krysta placed her head on my chest before I poked her cheek.