Chapter Text
---
Luca Paguro’s morning, like most of his mornings, starts with the realisation that he is tired, he has a headache, and he is late.
His alarm clock chirps from his small side-table, and like every morning since he began his university career over five years ago, he sweeps it onto the floor with a miserable groan and attempts to cover his head with his pillow, the feeble light streaming through his thin curtains enough to wake him fully if he allows it the chance. Just this once, he is sure, he will not be missed in the classroom. Sleep is almost once again within reach, and Luca feels himself beginning to sink back into the mattress…
The pounding on his bedroom door, like every morning, rips him fully and without mercy from the soft embrace of sleep.
“Luca! It’s seven, you gotta get up!” He groans louder and attempts to throw his pillow at the door as it cracks open. He opens one eye, vision blurry as he lifts his chin from his arms and glares daggers towards his roommate. Not that he needs clear eyes to make out the smudge of red that bobs at the entrance to his room, nor the flash or white as Giulia grins at him. “It’s marking day, you know your professor will have a breakdown if you aren’t there.”
“Professor Morelli can cope for one day.”
“He can’t, and you know it. Up, Paguro! I wanna use the bathroom, and you need to shower; you have ink on your face.”
Luca’s eyes widen, and he lifts a hand to his cheek to check. It’s dried, his skin smooth and human. Secret kept for another day. He yawns, jaw cracking as he stretches his arms above his head and staggers to his feet. Giulia winks at him (he thinks; he can’t see a thing in the mornings), before disappearing into the kitchen of their apartment, whistling merrily as she goes.
Grumbling, Luca totters over to his small set of drawers and pulls open the top in search of clean and work-presentable clothing. He needs to do the laundry, and makes a mental note to make sure Giulia puts a load on before she leaves the house. She won’t mind, he thinks as he collects his wash-bag and heads out of the room; The worst thing about her, which Luca has told her many times over wine and grading, is that she is such a morning person.
He does eventually make it into the bathroom with only two stubbed toes for his effort. Putting down his showercady and the little pile of fresh folded clothes onto the closed toilet-seat, Luca turns to lock the door.
And double-checks the lock.
And triple-checks it, just to be safe.
It’s not as if he expects Giulia to burst in without asking... but once she had jiggled the handle because she’d forgotten something next to the sink and Luca had almost died of a heart-attack in the shower, the shower-curtain almost pulled from its fitting from how tightly he had gripped it, his face a picture of terror.
Okay, one last quadruple-check later and Luca thinks it’s probably safe, so he strips out of his pyjamas and hastily throws them into the corner before stepping into their tiny bathtub-slash-shower.
The water-pressure is a bit iffy, coming out in spurts that alternate between the shower’s two favourite temperatures, freezing and scorching, before settling onto something more akin to a warm rain. Luca sticks a hand into the spray (he’s been burnt, literally, before), and sleepily watches his fingers grow scaly. His human pinky finger morphs and connects with his ring finger, transforming into the four-digit paw he’s used to. He uses his re-emerged claws to scratch the back of his head as he steps under the water, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
The change feels so familiar by now; a cool sort of prickling runs over his head and down his back, green scales and blue fins growing where pale skin was just a moment ago. His tail materialises and thumps quietly into the off-white bathtub. He holds it up, slightly, to make sure it doesn’t knock anything over as he reaches for a sponge.
Sadly, there is no time to stand there and enjoy the water. Giulia is right as always and he’ll be running late today no matter what he does, but there’s no need to push it. He has lost valuable time waking up, and it gets him every time- is there anything more dangerous than turning back around once the alarm has gone off?
Luca fumbles for his own soap, lathers up and cleans his face, under his gills, ruffles across his hair-fins and actually manages not to forget his tail for once; Phantom-tail or no, too many people have noticed that he doesn’t quite smell right, he doesn’t smell normal , and so he has to spend a large amount of his small student loan on various soaps and shampoos that are heavily perfumed to keep the scent away.
For the last couple of years, it’s worked fantastically; the only problem is making sure Giulia doesn’t use them all for herself. Luca cuts his shower short, leaving some tepid water for her own wash, even though she doesn’t have to leave for another hour or so.
Lucky.
Luca always gets the morning tutorials during the semester, and now with everyone being through with exams he gets to grade those as well. Even though Ferragosto is right around the corner, he doesn’t get to have a break. As he dampens his toothbrush and slowly brushes his teeth, eyes blinking lazily back at him in the mirror, he remembers breaking the news to his mom a couple days ago, her voice pitched and upset through the poor phone line.
“You won’t be able to come visit?” His mother had lamented over the phone, the line crackly due to her using a public phone-booth. “Not even for a week?”
“No, it doesn’t look like it,” Luca had sighed into the receiver, absentmindedly fiddling with the cord. “There’s still around one-hundred repeat-exams to grade, way more people showed-up than we originally thought. Only like, fifty had registered.”
He heard how his mother clicked her tongue, fizzling through the bad reception. “Luca, they’re taking advantage of you; you always get stuck with these things! Can’t you tell your professor-”
“I can’t mom, really,” Luca said for what felt like the thousandth time, pushing up his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose, “It is what it is. I have to go now anyway, I have a meeting with a student. But I’ll come home for the fall break, I promise.”
Her goodbye is sad and quiet, and it pulls at him for a long time after hanging up, the stack of papers on the living room coffee-table appearing to grow three sizes as he stares at it with barely checked loathing.
So yeah. Luca is really not looking forward to today. He steps out of the bathroom (not without one final check to make sure all of his scales are well and truly hidden) and makes his way over to their small kitchenette. The apartment is small but cozy, walls adorned with posters and pictures of Portorosso. There’s a lamp in the corner by their two-seater couch, tassled and ugly but cheap, picked up from a market three summers ago for a steal. One wall is lined with over-flowing bookcases, his own astronomy texts intermixed with Guilia’s biology ones. A single shelf has glasses and bottles of various wines and spirits (grading is hard, and Luca feels no shame over his choice of weekend beverage), and a second-hand television sits beneath the window. It’s probably the most expensive thing they’ve ever bought, outside of the coffee machine that sits in their kitchen, and the stupid thing only gets three channels.
But he loves it all; he loves their shared space, with its nick-knacks and organised clutter. It’s been a home he’s shared with Giulia for five years, and the memories of the place are as baked into the walls as they are into Luca’s own mind.
He leans over the kitchen counter and drags his satchel close, flipping it open to check its contents; all papers present and accounted for, marks totalled and constructive comments written in his own neat script. He’s done his very best to make sure that his professor will have nothing to complain about, but the chances are he’ll find something.
Luca props his chin in his hands and watches as Giulia flits between the refrigerator and the stove, cracking eggs as she puts together breakfast. None for him, as usual; the promise of a few moments of extra sleep is always too appealing, but he raises his head slightly and sniffs the air. There is something missing.
“Giules. Coffee?” He asks in what he hopes is a pathetic enough tone that she’ll make it for him. Giulia gives him a sympathetic look over her shoulder, her hair already tied up in a messy bun. A curl bounces at her temple as she shakes her head.
“Sorry, Luca. Um, we don’t have any…?”
“Giulia…”
“I know, I’m sorry. You know how my own professor gets.” She stabs at her eggs as if they are the ones that have personally wronged her; Giulia’s biology professor gives her almost as tough of a time as his own does. “He kept me so late last night, by the time I got home most of the stores around here were already closed.”
Sighing, Luca rubs his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes behind the lenses of his glasses; terrible things, really. He’d love a pair that actually worked, but he’s seen the way his eyes reflect light like two red mirrors, and there have been too many close calls on walks home at night for him to feel safe enough to risk going to an optician.
“Today is going to be terrible now. You know that, right?”
“Don’t be such a grump. Here.” Taking her frying pan off the heat, she rifles through their pile of junk mail and pulls out an advertisement for the local pizzeria. A pen materialises from somewhere (though it’s not hard to find one in their apartment, as they both spend the majority of their time marking papers for ungrateful teachers), and she starts sketching a crude map across the smiling face of the restaurant's mascot.
“You know where the science building is?” Luca nods. “There’s a little campus cafe just on the far side of the grass, you know where people sometimes study? My brother works there, just tell him I sent you and he’ll sort you out with something.”
“I didn’t realise your brother worked on campus,” Luca says slowly as he watches her draw. He’s heard of him many times, this mysterious older brother who for the better part of the last couple years had been touring Europe as opposed to going to university alongside his sister. Some of the stories she’s told him seem almost beyond belief, and Luca feels a stab of anxiety squirm its way into his gut; all of their years of friendship, and they’ve never met before. “He’s living with your...mom?”
Giulia shakes her head. “Nah, my dad for a little while, but I think he’s renting a room somewhere in town, now. He’s my dad’s son, really; he’s adopted, I think I might’ve mentioned that. Anyway, ‘Beto came home a couple weeks ago. He was looking for work, and they were hiring.” She finishes with a flourish and hands Luca the scrap, grinning. “I think you’ll like him. He’s a bit of an ass, but he’s got a good heart. I would’ve introduced you before, but you’re always such a butt in the morning that I didn’t want to ruin his first impression of you.”
“But you’ll ruin it now?” Luca teases with a small smile, his expression widening as Giulia laughs and reaches across to mess up his already tangled curls.
“Desperate times, my friend. Got all your stuff? Don’t forget your lunch!” Luca nods, and leans over the counter to press a kiss to his friend's offered cheek. “I’ll meet you at twelve, the usual place. And don’t forget to tell Alberto I sent you!”
“Have a good morning, weirdo. And don’t forget to start some laundry!” he calls as he walks out, bag over his shoulder and hand depressingly empty of coffee. He looks at Giulia’s map; he thinks he knows the place, but he appreciates her doodle all the same, especially the small heart with a smile scrawled inside right at the bottom. He slips it into his bag and goes to unlock his bike, glad for the pleasant weather but hating the way the sun makes his head throb.
Coffee, first. Then the rest of his day.
---
It’s a lot easier said than done.
Their apartment is a bit farther away from the university than would be necessarily ideal, with a good mile or so commute every morning, but the rent is cheap and he gets to live with Giulia, so Luca doesn’t complain too loudly or too often.
It had been incredibly good luck. Insanely good luck, actually. The one condition Luca had to adhere to to even be allowed anywhere near the university was that he would have an apartment of his own. He was not to stay anywhere near other students, sharing rooms or anything of the sort. In his absolute joy at finally being granted permission to access the kind of education he’d always wanted, he’d agreed without giving it any sort of thought; how hard would it be to find a small apartment in a large city, with the necessities he needed, within the price range his grandmother had allowed him after surprising him and his parents with a human bank account containing a small fortune?
(“Mother! How on earth-? I mean, where did you get all of this?!” His mother had shrieked, her fins fanning out in surprise and concern. His grandmother had appeared nonplussed, picking a kelp-wrap up from their dinner platter and popping it into her mouth, chewing slowly and smirking as Luca floated behind his mother and did his best not to burst out laughing.
“We all have our secrets, dear.” She tipped a wink to Luca before leaning back in her chair and linking her hands contently over her stomach. “I had a long and exciting life before I had you, Daniela, and interest is a wonderful thing. Best not to ask questions you don’t want the answers to, hmm?”)
As it turns out, finding a home had been very difficult. Luca had stood in front of some sort of notice board in the main university registration office, just the tiniest bit overwhelmed with only his suitcase and a rucksack, trying to find some sort of wink of fate in the hundreds of colourful flyers when fate had more or less stumbled into him.
“Oof, oh, scusa , I’m so sorry.”
A short young woman with the brightest head of flaming red hair sheepishly smiles at him. “Bad time to trip! I just wanted to have a look for any rooms to let.”
“ Non affatto .” Luca smiles and steps to the side. “Here, there’s enough space for two.”
“Thanks.” The girl huffs, stems her hands into her hips and lets her gaze wander over all of the pages, numbers scrawled on tiny pieces to rip-off, contact information for flats and rooms galore. “How is anyone supposed to find anything halfway decent in all of this?”
Luca shrugs, surprised and a little pleased to be suddenly caught-up in a conversation. “Who knows. I didn’t even know so many people existed.”
“I know, right?” The girl turns her head to smile at him, broad and friendly. “I swear we have less than half these many people in my village back home.”
“Oh?” Luca tries smiling back; she seems so nice, and he knows no-one in the city. “Same here. Where are you from then, if I may ask?”
The girl laughs and waves a hand. “You definitely won’t know it. This tiny fishing village on the cost, Portorosso.”
No way.
“No way!” Luca exhales, laughing right back. “I’m from Portorosso!”
“What?” the girl grins, “Seriously? No, no way, you’re not.”
“I am,” Luca nods, head bobbing up and down. “I grew up there, went to school there too.”
“That’s crazy, what are the odds!” She sticks her hand out, her grin wide and toothy and inviting. “Giulia Marcovaldo.”
Luca smiles and takes her hand to shake. Her grip is firm. “ Piacere , Luca Paguro. This really is an insane coincidence! But I don’t think I ever saw you around?”
“I’ll say,” she laughs, “It’s no surprise, I only ever visited during summer vacation, otherwise I lived with my mother here in Genova.”
Luca frowns. He asks, tentatively, “So... Why are you looking for a place then? Can you not stay at home?”
The girl -Giulia- shrugs and gets that sheepish expression again. “No, definitely I could. But it might be nice to move out, maybe find a roommate or two. I love my mother but she can be a bit-” she winces, waves her hand in a so-so-motion. “-overbearing.”
Luca has to laugh, rubbing the back of his head. “I can relate to that.”
They fall into a sort of silence, the end of the conversation apparently reached. Luca gives her one last smile before turning back to the notice board, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.
“Okay, so, crazy idea,” Giulia says slowly, turning to look at him with a determined look on her face. “Would you want to- share? An apartment I mean? We could split rent, and utilities, and I mean we basically know each other already as Portorosso natives!”
Oh.
It would be better to decline. Luca really was only looking for a room, a small place for himself. It would be safer, his secret would be safer.
But Giulia is looking at him, all expectantly, and Luca can’t think of a suitable excuse. Surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to hide his scalier self from just one person right? And two amounts of rent combined would allow them a place all of their own, and one better than anything he could afford alone...
“I mean,” he hears himself say. “It would be convenient, wouldn’t it?”
“Ah, fantastico ,” Giulia gushes, seeming to vibrate with a sort of happiness that is immediately infectious. She pushes her arm through Luca’s, forward and friendly, and he can’t help but smile down at her. There’s something about her, perhaps because they do come from the same seaside town. But there’s something more than that, almost like a glimmer in her that his own heart connects to.
Maybe it is fate, after all.
---
So the apartment hunt began. The only specification Luca really had was that the places needed to have a shower, though a bathtub would be even better. And while that did drive up the price, Giulia didn’t especially mind; she was easily convinced by the benefit of late evening showers while Luca advocated for the early morning ones.
The only disadvantage was truly the distance; If Luca wanted to get to uni at eight then he had to leave by quarter past seven at the latest .
It’s seven-thirty and he’s only just swinging his leg over his bike.
But today Luca is making good time; the streets aren’t as busy yet, with only a couple delivery trucks taking up the main road and a few pedestrians on the paths. It’s probably because of the holiday that’s just around the corner, and a tiny angry part of Luca wants to curse his professor for being such a goddamn difficult ass.
There is nothing that can be done about it anyway, and getting out of the house this early has its benefits too; It’s not that hot yet, the sun still low over the waking city and chasing away the lingering damp of the night. The asphalt doesn’t have that shimmering heat yet that it will definitely possess in two hours time. At this point in the morning, the only indication that it is going to be a hot day is the soft sweet thickness of the air and absence of a breeze.
But who cares about later, now there is just enough time to check-out the café that Giulia told him about. Luca skids to a stop by a line of bicycle stands and locks his bike (twice!) near the physics faculty, dumps his helmet in the front basket and grabs his satchel. He pulls out Giulia’s fantastic map, and manages to summon a small smile once again at her doodled heart.
He has to turn it twice, but he more or less knows which buildings are supposed to be which. Two turns, one through a smaller side-street between two buildings and across a grassy lawn, and Luca is there.
The coffee shop is pretty small and plain, so far as they go; it’s obvious from the moment Luca comes to a stop outside that it mainly caters to students, with its small cluster of well-loved tables and chairs littering the sidewalk, the umbrellas sticking up from their centres all the same aged shade of beige. The windows are clean but cluttered with signs and posts, advertising university accommodation and study groups, as well as the sales of things like old text-books and instruments. There’s a larger poster advertising live music at a bar further into Genova centre, and a missing cat poster. Luca takes a second to try and memorise the look of the cat, committing distinct features to memory on the off-chance he ever comes across it before pushing open the door. A bell tinkles as he enters.
The inside matches the outside, if it were possible; clean, but well loved and old. The counter is long and dark, it’s top a black chipped marble that is flecked with white. A glass cabinet filled with pastries, cakes and sandwiches take up the majority of its length. The coffee machine stands right behind it, a shining monolith of steam and espresso, clearly the newest piece of equipment in the whole store and Luca breathes deeply of the heavily caffeinated air. He can almost feel the headache reversing as he soaks it in, and he allows himself a small smile as he looks around the rest of the room.
There are a few battered couches right under the windows, allowing customers a pleasant place to people watch. There’s a student with a frantic look on their face that Luca knows only too well; it’s the look of someone who has very quickly realised that the paper they thought would take a few hours is actually going to take a few days that they no longer have to spare. They look up as Luca walks in, numbers and words dancing in their eyes. Luca offers a sympathetic smile that goes unnoticed as the student gives themselves a shake and looks back down at their book, muttering to themselves.
The tables are all round, luckily all matching and with spindly chairs. Music plays softly in the background, something melodic but upbeat, and the place feels so welcoming that Luca is finding it difficult to come to terms with the fact that he’s never been here before.
He checks his watch, and swallows harshly. He has ten minutes to get across campus to his own classroom, and time is most certainly not on his side. Jogging almost self-consciously across the room, he approaches the cash register and looks around. There’s no-one here. He clears his throat, hoping it’ll be enough to grab whomever it is that’s running the place this morning, but a few more seconds pass and there’s still no-one.
“Uh, hello?” He finally calls, his already low levels of good nature well and truly drying up as he taps his foot on the ground. He hears some clattering from the kitchen, a curse-word muttered low, and then louder;
“Two seconds, I’ll be right there!”
Luca reaches up to rub his eyes, fingers pressed close to his cheeks to miss his glasses… only to realise that they aren’t on his face. Blinking, he checks the neck of his shirt, the top of his head. Nowhere to be found. He remembers having them on for the ride here (he most surely would’ve hit something otherwise), and realises with a jolt that they are in his helmet, safely tucked away in the front-basket of his bike.
No wonder the student under the window had seemed so foggy.
“Hey there! What can I get for you?” A voice asks from behind him, and Luca turns back to the counter, squinting hard at the stranger’s face.
He’s tall, taller than he is by a good few inches, and from his fuzzy outline he appears to be well-built and tanned. His features are a blurred mess, but there’s no missing his bright green eyes and wide smile. Luca tries to smile back, but he’s pretty certain that it’s coming across as more of a grimace.
“Are you Alberto?” He asks, his words short. Part of him is cowering at his own rudeness, but the other part is supremely aware that he is going to be very late, and without coffee his morning will be a complete wash. The man behind the counter pauses, and Luca can just about make out the way his head tilts with confusion, his hair falling with it.
He thinks it’s curly, but with how little he can see at the moment, it could be a wig for all he knows and he wouldn’t be any wiser to it.
“I am…?” He answers slowly, voice rising at the end to make it a question. He has a pleasant voice, higher than his size would suggest but with a rich undercurrent of laughter. It’s the sort of voice that Luca would usually try and befriend, but time is not on his side today.
“Giulia sent me. You have coffee?”
“I mean... “ Alberto scoffs, and Luca feels his hackles rise. “This is a coffee shop, so yeah.”
“Then give me coffee.” Luca pauses, his brain several steps behind his mouth. “...Please.”
“I’m sorry?” Alberto sounds credulous as he crosses his arms. “Do you wanna ask me that again?”
“Look, I’m running late, I have a headache, my professor is an ass and I need coffee to live. Can you help me or not?”
“Listen, pal-”
“Luca.”
“Okay, Luca, you can’t just-” Alberto pauses. “Wait, Luca Paguro? Guilie’s roommate?”
“Yes. Now please, can I have something strong, dark and large?”
“I mean, I don’t finish work until one.” His voice is clearly teasing, but Luca levels a flat look towards those luminous eyes and hopes that he looks unimpressed enough to move Alberto along. Luckily, Alberto huffs once more and turns his back to him and begins putting a drink together, the coffee machine hissing and spurting to life.
“Right little ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” he mutters to himself, but loud enough for Luca to hear. He sniffs loudly.
“I don’t like mornings, okay?”
“Clearly.” He remains silent for a moment or two longer before placing the tall, cardboard cup in front of Luca. “I’m assuming you want this to go?”
“Yep. Sure do.” Snatching up the drink, Luca fishes into his wallet and grabs the first note he lays his fingers on. He slaps it on the counter and turns on his heel. “Good day.”
“...Hey wait,” Alberto calls and Luca heads for the door. “This is like, double the price of the coffee!”
“Consider it a tip, or give me one for free next time. Gotta go!” Luca calls back, waving in the vague vicinity of the cash register before shouldering his way back out the door, lifting the cup to his lips and taking a cautious sip. It’s dark, darker than he usually likes; too bitter and not enough milk (no time for his usual large quantities of sugar today), but the flavour is amazing; he makes a mental note to ask what sort of beans the shop uses next time he comes through before throwing a leg over his bike and finally putting his glasses back on. He chances a look through the windows to try and spot Alberto, but all he makes out is the man’s back as he returns to the kitchen.
Shakily pedalling away, Luca keeps his arm raised carefully to make sure he doesn’t spill a drop. That could’ve gone better, Paguro, he thinks to himself as he weaves through students, shouting a greeting at a trio he recognises that are also running late to his class. They begin jogging, realising very quickly that if Luca is late, then they are very late.
Bah. If he’s anything like Giulia, he won’t remember or care for a little bit of rudeness… but I should probably try and be nicer next time. Just to be sure.
Luca pulls into his allocated spot and fishes his bike chain out of his satchel, placing his cup down on a nearby low wall before quickly locking his bicycle safely in place. He swipes the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead and straightens his shirt, trying (and probably failing) to actually look like a teaching assistant instead of another one of the students.
He reaches out to pick up his cup back up and pauses, blinking owlishly. Scrawled across the side, in handwriting far messier than Giulia’s, is one word; Sunshine.