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Summary
He had spent too much of his life covered in dirt to not be able to know the difference between Tuscan dirt and Orvietan dirt. He sighed happily and closed his eyes, feeling the breeze on his face. “Che bello,” he hummed to himself. He could smell the combination of dinners cooking in the surrounding rooms and hear the mixture of music and conversation on the streets below.
A mop of curly hair popped up from behind the crates. Max felt his heart do a somersault. Ordinarily it only did that when he had found something incredible buried in the Earth. He couldn’t recall a time another person had elicited that reaction.