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She blushed, her shyness coming to the surface.
"Here," he took hold of his pencil again and scribbled a few words in the corner.
From Michele to Venezia, the prettiest pink princess.
"It's yours now," he handed it to her.
"Really? I can have it?"
"Of course, I drew it for you."
She held it in both hands as if it was something precious, her eyes greedily drinking in the drawing. He'd tried his best to make her a pretty princess—one to rival any doll out there and any lady that told her she couldn't be one.
And by the look on her face, he thought he succeeded.
She continued to stare at it, but a glance at the crowd still gathered at the casket told Michele they'd dallied enough away from everyone.
Just as he was about to suggest he took her to her family, a low buzzing sound erupted through the silence.
Her hands went still on the paper, her chin tipped down in shame.
The noise continued, and Michele realized it was coming from her.
She was…hungry. And embarrassed.
"Are you hungry?" he asked in a serious tone. He'd only known her for a little while, but he could read her dire circumstances on her, and if she wasthathungry, he doubted someone would give her food anytime soon. Especially since no one seemed that interested in her whereabouts.
A spark of anger ignited within him at the thought.
He knew what could have happened to him that night when he'd wandered off alone if not for Nicolo's help. She was a girl. A much younger and defenseless girl. Countless bad things could happen to her.
"Let's get you something to eat," he told her with a smile, all the while thinking to himself that he had to give her a talk about safety.
Clearly no one in her life had done it if she so easily approached a stranger. And he wanted to ensure he was thelaststranger she approached.
Maybe he could even put in a word with Nicolo, since hewasher uncle.
Venezia turned her huge eyes on him, biting her lower lip in apprehension.
"Come," he put the backpack over his shoulder as he stretched out a hand towards her. She eyed it for a moment before sliding her much smaller one into it, hopping off the bench and following him.
"I think I spotted a place to eat across the street," he gave her a smile.
She nodded, her eyes on him, unblinking. It was as if she was awestruck by him and the fact that he was considering her needs—as if that had never happened before.
He pushed down the rage he felt at that thought. He knew it on his own skin—knew exactly what the cost of such neglect was in the long run. And he was a boy—almost a man. She was just a small girl.
Her hand was warm in his, and he felt a surge of protectiveness over her. For a moment, he wished he could shield her from all the evils of the world—from everything bad that was out there, just waiting to strike at her. But just as the thought surfaced, he pushed it aside. It wasn'thisjob to do it.
He was just a stranger.
They reached in front of a small fast food restaurant, and he opened the door for her to come inside.
The staff took one look at her and their lips curled in disgust, undoubtedly at her messy appearance. Still, he didn't let that deter him as he led her at a table in the back.
"Wait here and I'll get some food, ok?"
She nodded at him, the drawing still in her hand as she clutched at it as if a precious possession.
