Chapter Text
Sienna steps out of the Bentley, her heels clicking softly against the cobblestone street. She takes a moment to smooth the fabric of her dress, her fingers lingering on the rich material. The warm glow of the trattoria beckons, but instead of moving forward, she hesitates, her gaze flickering between the inviting entrance and her own reflection in the car’s window. The dress, once a source of fleeting confidence, now feels like a spotlight aimed directly at her. The quiet charm of the restaurant, with its weathered brick and soft lighting, seems worlds apart from the luxurious gown clinging to her frame. She feels painfully out of place—too polished, too conspicuous. Copia closes the car door behind her and steps up beside her, his sharp eyes catching the way her posture stiffens, the slight downturn of her lips. He tilts his head, his tone gentle but with a hint of amusement.
"Don’t tell me you’re second-guessing now. You look stunning, Sienna."
Sienna doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she shifts her weight, her arms crossing over her chest as though she’s trying to shield herself. Her voice, when it comes, is low and edged with irritation. "I look ridiculous. This place... this isn’t the kind of place you wear something like this."
Copia steps closer, his expression softening as he studies her. For once, there’s no teasing in his tone, only quiet reassurance. “You don’t look ridiculous. You’re perfect as you are."
Sienna snorts softly, her skepticism clear. "Right. Perfect. Because nothing says cozy Italian bistro like a gown straight out of a gala." Copia exhales, his expression slipping into something more thoughtful. He looks at her, really looks at her, the way her shoulders tense, the way her gaze flickers toward the restaurant windows and then back to the ground. For all her fire and sharp wit, there’s a fragility beneath it that he’s grown to recognize.
"Lucia won’t care about what you’re wearing, Sienna. And neither will anyone else. They’ll be too busy enjoying the food."
Sienna glances up at him, her skepticism mingling with the faintest trace of uncertainty. She hesitates, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as if debating whether to take another step. "And what if I care?" Her voice is quieter now, the vulnerability she’s trying to hide slipping through the cracks. Copia’s expression softens further, and he extends a hand toward her, not commanding, not demanding, but offering. "Then trust me. Just this once."
For a long moment, Sienna doesn’t move. She stares at his outstretched hand, the words lingering between them. Finally, with a sharp exhale, she uncrosses her arms and places her hand in his, the contact sending a strange mix of warmth and unease through her. Copia’s smile returns, faint but genuine, as he leads her toward the restaurant. Sienna follows, her steps hesitant but steady, the glow of the trattoria growing closer with each passing moment. As they reach the door, Copia pauses, his hand lingering on hers for just a second longer than necessary before letting go to push it open. "Welcome to the best food you’ll ever have, topolino."
The warm, inviting interior of the trattoria is a stark contrast to the cool night outside. The scent of garlic, tomatoes, and fresh herbs wafts through the air, mingling with the soft hum of conversation and the gentle clink of glasses and cutlery. The restaurant is modestly filled, the patrons chatting comfortably at wooden tables adorned with simple checkered cloths. As soon as the door closes behind them, a small, lively woman emerges from the kitchen. Her dark hair is streaked with gray, pinned back in a loose bun. She wipes her hands on her apron, her face lighting up as her eyes land on Copia.
"Copia, mio caro! Finalmente! It has been too long, you scoundrel!" her voice is warm and enthusiastic, laced with a thick Italian accent. She bustles toward him, her arms wide as though she’s about to embrace him. Copia smirks, leaning down slightly to accommodate her shorter stature as she clasps his face between her hands. She gives him an exaggerated once-over, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. "Look at you, still so thin! Do you eat at all, or do you live on coffee and nerves?", she asks him, half-scolding, half-affectionate.
Copia chuckles softly, placing a hand over hers to pry them gently away from his face. "I eat plenty. You’re the one who insists I look underfed."
"And this suit! Tight as ever. I don’t know how you keep this up. I’ll make sure you leave with something to take home. Maybe two, just in case."
Copia raises his hands in mock surrender, his grin widening slightly. "Lucia, per favore, not in front of the whole restaurant. You’ll ruin my reputation."
"Reputation? Ha! What do I care about that? I care about you eating enough so you don’t faint one day in that ridiculous suit." Lucia waves him off with a dismissive gesture, muttering in rapid Italian under her breath about how men always lie about their eating habits. Her attention shifts briefly to the restaurant’s interior, making sure everything is running smoothly, before her gaze lands on Sienna, who has remained near the entrance, fidgeting with the hem of her dress.
Lucia’s warm expression softens further as she takes in the young woman’s awkward stance and slightly wary eyes. She moves toward Sienna with open curiosity and a bright, welcoming smile. "And who is this lovely creature you’ve brought with you, Copia?"
Sienna stiffens slightly under the attention, her fingers still playing with the fabric of her dress. She forces a small, polite smile, though her unease is evident. Copia steps closer, his hand lightly resting on the small of her back as if to ground her. "Lucia, this is Sienna. She’s my guest tonight.", he says with smooth voice, tinged by something almost akin to pride. Lucia’s eyes sparkle with understanding as she looks back and forth between them. She steps forward, taking Sienna’s hand in both of hers. Her grip is firm but kind, her touch radiating maternal warmth.
"Ah, such beauty! And so modest, hmm? Don’t worry, ragazza, no one will bite you here—unless you ask them very nicely.", She winks playfully, her grin wide.
Sienna blinks, caught off guard by the woman’s easy charm. She chuckles awkwardly, not quite sure how to respond, but there’s something disarming about Lucia’s warmth that chips away at her discomfort. "Thank you... It’s nice to meet you."
Lucia pats Sienna’s hand, before releasing it. "The pleasure is mine, my dear. Any friend of Copia is family here." She turns back to Copia, wagging a finger at him. "And you, dragging such a beautiful girl here, dressed like a queen. I hope you brought your appetite—you’ll need it."
"As always, you spoil me, Lucia.", he says with a grin, his voice teasing.
"It’s because no one else will, eh? Come, I’ll get you the best table.", she quips back with mock sternness.
She ushers them further into the restaurant, leading them to a cozy table tucked into a corner. Sienna follows, still feeling a bit self-conscious in her dress but oddly comforted by Lucia’s fussing. Copia, on the other hand, seems entirely at ease, his hand brushing lightly against her back as they walk. When they reach the table, Lucia gestures for them to sit, her hands on her hips as she surveys them with a critical eye. "Sit, sit! I’ll bring you something special. No menus tonight—trust me, capito?"
Sienna hesitates briefly before sitting across from Copia, her gaze flicking around the restaurant. The warmth of the place begins to seep into her, her earlier nerves slowly giving way to curiosity and, dare she admit it, a bit of comfort. Lucia bustles off toward the kitchen, her voice ringing out as she calls orders to her staff. Left alone at the table, Sienna finally looks at Copia, who’s watching her with a faint, amused smile.
Copia leans slightly forward, his tone light. "See? Nothing to worry about. Lucia has a way of making everyone feel at home."
Despite herself, Sienna feels the corner of her mouth twitch upward into the faintest of smiles. "I’ll admit, she’s... different than I expected."
He raises a brow, smirking. "You mean she doesn’t bow and scrape like most people do when they see me?" Sienna snorts softly, not giving him the satisfaction of a response.
Sienna sits stiffly, her back straight, her hands resting carefully in her lap as though unsure of what to do with them. She glances at the table—simple, sturdy wood with a faint sheen of age, covered with a checkered cloth and set with plain but elegant silverware. The flicker of candlelight adds a warm glow to the space, but it does little to soothe the tension still curling in her chest. Lucia returns momentarily, carrying a bottle of deep red wine. She uncorks it with practiced ease, pouring a generous amount into two glasses. As she sets the bottle down, she places a hand briefly on Copia’s shoulder, squeezing it affectionately.
"Your favorite, mio caro. The food will be out in just a moment. And don’t you dare rush me, it will be perfect, as always."
Copia chuckles softly, leaning back in his chair as he watches Lucia bustle off toward the kitchen once more. Sienna casts a fleeting glance at the wineglass in front of her, but her attention soon drifts to the restaurant around her. The warm, intimate setting is a far cry from the cold opulence of the high-class places she once avoided. Her gaze moves over the walls, decorated with framed photographs, vintage posters, and a scattering of Italian knick-knacks. Everything feels lived-in, genuine, as though the restaurant has stories to tell. She doesn’t notice how Copia’s eyes linger on her, his expression unusually soft and open, a faint smile playing at his lips. When she finally does glance at him, catching his gaze, her breath hitches slightly. His relaxed demeanor disarms her more than she cares to admit, and she quickly reverts to sarcasm, though her voice lacks its usual bite. "What are you staring at?"
Copia smirks faintly, leaning forward to rest his arms on the table. His tone is light, teasing. "You, of course. Is that such a crime?"
Sienna rolls her eyes, but she can’t quite hide the faint blush creeping up her neck. She shifts in her seat, glancing at her glass of wine as though it might offer some escape from the moment. "Well, stop it. It’s weird."
"As you wish, topolino. Though I must say, it’s not often I see you look so… at ease. You wear it well.", he chuckles.
Sienna scoffs, but there’s no venom in it. She finally picks up her glass, taking a small sip before meeting his gaze again. Her earlier tension begins to melt away, replaced by cautious curiosity. "This place... it’s not what I expected. Lucia isn’t what I expected either. She treats you like you’re her son or something."
Copia leans back slightly, swirling the wine in his glass as he considers her words. His smirk softens into something closer to a genuine smile. "Lucia has known me for many years. She has a way of making everyone feel like family, whether they want it or not."
"Does she know what you are?"
Copia pauses, his gaze flicking briefly toward the kitchen before returning to hers. His expression grows thoughtful, the flicker of a shadow crossing his face. "Lucia knows enough. She’s a smart woman, more perceptive than most. But I’ve never had to explain myself to her. She accepts me for who I am, no questions, no judgment."
Sienna tilts her head slightly, studying him. The way he speaks about Lucia is different—softer, almost reverent. It’s not the carefully curated charm he uses so often, but something real. "Must be nice. Someone who treats you like a person instead of a title."
Copia’s smile falters for a moment, his gaze lowering to his glass. When he speaks, his voice is quieter. "It is rare. But yes, it is nice." The faint vulnerability in his tone catches Sienna off guard, and for a moment, she forgets the sharp edges she usually keeps between them. She leans forward slightly, her voice softer now.
"She’s good to you."
"Lucia has always been good to me. Even when I did not deserve it.", he says with a nod, his expressions lightening.
Sienna doesn’t press him further, sensing that there’s more to the story but choosing not to push. Instead, she lets the silence settle between them, not heavy or awkward, but comfortable in its own way. The warmth of the restaurant begins to seep into her fully, and for the first time that night, she feels the edges of her anxiety dulling.
Lucia returns moments later, balancing two plates of steaming food with practiced ease. She sets them down with a flourish, beaming at the pair. "There we are! Eat, enjoy, and no complaints, capito?"
Sienna glances at the food, then back at Copia, who raises his glass in a quiet toast. "To new experiences."
Sienna hesitates, then raises her glass, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. "To not starving."
Their glasses clink softly, and for the first time that evening, Sienna feels the tension in her shoulders begin to melt away as they settle into their meal.
The warmth of the trattoria wraps around them as dish after dish is brought to the table. Lucia seems to have an uncanny ability to predict Copia’s favorites, each plate met with a knowing grin from her and a small, appreciative smile from him. Sienna watches, both amused and bemused by the rhythm of it all, as if this is some well-rehearsed performance between Lucia and Copia. The first course is a simple bruschetta al pomodoro , the tomatoes so fresh they taste like summer. Then comes arancini, crispy and golden, their molten centers oozing with cheese. Sienna takes cautious bites at first, but each mouthful pulls her in further, the flavors rich and comforting.
"What’s this called again? Aran-what?", she asks, holding up one of the balls.
"Arancini. Little rice balls, fried to perfection. A Sicilian specialty.", he chuckles, leaning forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Though, if you’d rather not, I can always finish them for you."
Sienna snorts, popping the rest of the piece into her mouth before glaring at him, her voice muffled. "Don’t even think about it."
Copia’s laughter is warm, resonating softly in the cozy space. Sienna can’t help the faint curve of her lips as she reaches for her wine glass. By the time the main dish arrives—a steaming plate of rigatoni alla norma, she’s starting to feel a strange sense of ease, the earlier tension in her shoulders slowly melting away.
Sienna eyes the dish suspiciously. "And this? What’s on it?"
Copia leans back in his chair, gesturing with his fork. "Eggplant, tomatoes, basil, a little ricotta salata. It’s simple, but trust me, it’s divine."
Sienna takes a tentative bite, her eyes widening slightly as the flavors unfold on her tongue. She doesn’t say anything, but the way she goes in for another bite immediately afterward makes Copia smirk. "Good, sì?", he teases her.
"Better than it has any right to be.", she mutters, not even looking up from her plate.
The conversation flows naturally as they eat and Sienna finds herself asking about Italy, about Copia’s past travels, and he obliges with some stories. Lucia joins them occasionally, bustling over with a quick comment or a question about the food before returning to her domain. Her presence is a warm interruption, her affection for Copia clear in the way she speaks to him. She places a fresh glass of wine in front of him, her hands on her hips. "You eat like you’ve been starving, ragazzo. Is this what happens when you leave me for too long?"
"How could I stay away when you spoil me like this?", he smiles up at her, raising his glass.
She grins, before turning towards Sienna. "And you, my dear? Is he behaving himself tonight?"
"More or less.", she smirks, shooting him a glance.
"Good. Someone needs to keep him in line.", Lucia chuckles, patting Sienna’s shoulder. As Lucia bustles back to the kitchen, Sienna leans back in her chair, the warmth of the food and wine settling over her like a blanket. She looks at Copia, who is watching her with a faint smile, and for the first time, she doesn’t feel the need to put up her usual defenses.
"This is... different. In a good way.", she says softly, almost to herself.
"Good. That’s all I wanted for tonight."
When the dessert arrives, homemade cannoli dusted with powdered sugar, Sienna lets out a small laugh, shaking her head. "Of course it’s cannoli. Let me guess, your favorite?"
Copia grins at her, picking up one of the cannoli. "Naturally. But if you’ve never had Lucia’s... well, you’re in for a treat."
Sienna takes a cautious bite, the crisp shell giving way to the creamy filling. Her eyes widen slightly, and she doesn’t even try to hide her delight. "Okay, this might actually be worth all the fuss." Copia laughs softly, raising his glass to her in a silent toast.
Sienna leans back in her chair, the remnants of the cannoli on her plate, her glass of wine nearly empty. A warmth lingers in her chest, not just from the food and drink but from the atmosphere itself. For the first time since her world had been turned upside down, she feels... normal. Not a vampire grappling with hunger and guilt, not a stranger navigating unfamiliar territory, but a person enjoying a simple, delicious meal. Her gaze drifts to Copia, who is lounging comfortably across from her, swirling the last of his wine in his glass. His relaxed demeanor is infectious, and she can’t help but wonder how often he allows himself this kind of reprieve.
"I get it now.", she says, her voice almost thoughtful. Copia tilts his head, intrigued, but doesn’t interrupt. Sienna gestures vaguely around them, her fingers brushing against her empty plate. "Why you come here. It’s easy to forget everything else when you’re in her care. It’s... comforting. Human."
"Lucia has a way of making the world feel simpler. She’s been doing it for me for a long time."
Sienna nods, tracing the edge of her wine glass with her finger. She doesn’t say it aloud, but she’s grateful for this small reprieve, this fleeting sense of normalcy. Before the silence can grow too heavy, Copia shifts in his seat, reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket.
He pulls out a small, velvet-lined box and sets it on the table between them. Sienna blinks, her brows knitting together as she stares at it with a frown. "What’s that?"
"Your Christmas present.", he responds with a faint smirk.
Sienna’s frown deepens, her gaze flickering between the box and his face. She sits up straighter, her fingers curling slightly against the edge of the table. "A present? You didn’t have to—"
But he cuts her off. "I wanted to. Go on, open it."
Sienna blinks, caught completely off guard. Her gaze flickers from the box to Copia, her mind racing. She hadn’t expected anything from him—not this. Her fingers hover above the ribbon, her voice low and uncertain. "I didn’t get you anything. I didn’t even think—"
"Sienna, this isn’t a transaction. I didn’t give you this expecting something in return."
Sienna hesitates, her fingers trembling slightly as she finally unties the ribbon and carefully opens the box. Inside, nestled in a bed of velvet, is a delicate silver necklace. The pendant is a small, intricately crafted rose, its petals detailed with stunning precision. Her breath catches as she takes it in, her chest tightening with a mix of emotions she can’t quite place. As she runs her fingers across it, she feels the prick of tiny thorns.
"It’s beautiful...", she whispers, unable to draw her eyes away from it.
"It reminded me of you.”
Sienna’s head snaps up, her expression shifting to one of mild incredulity. She raises an eyebrow at him, scoffing. "So, what, you think I’m prickly?"
"Prickly, si, but also enduring. Resilient. Beautiful, even when the world tries to crush you." He pauses, his voice softening even more. "It seemed fitting."
Sienna blinks, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. She looks back down at the necklace, her fingers brushing lightly over the thorns. The design feels... familiar, as if it truly does reflect something about her. She doesn’t know how to respond, the vulnerability in the moment making her uneasy. "Seems dangerous. What if I poke myself?"
"Then it will remind you to stay sharp, topolino . ", he teases her.
She shakes her head, but there’s a flicker of something warmer in her expression as she picks up the necklace. As she struggles with the clasp, Copia reaches out, his hand steady. "Allow me."
Sienna hesitates but hands him the necklace, turning slightly in her seat. She feels his fingers brush against her neck as he fastens the clasp, his touch light but deliberate. When he finishes, she turns back, her fingers instinctively reaching for the pendant as it rests just below her collarbone. Copia leans back, his eyes scanning her face before landing on the necklace. "It suits you."
"Thank you. Really... I don’t think anyone’s ever given me something like this before."
"Then it’s long overdue."
Lucia’s cheerful voice rings out from the kitchen, calling for Copia to come say goodbye before they leave. Sienna exhales slowly, her fingers still playing with the necklace as she stands. Copia rises too, extending a hand to her. „Shall we?”