→ starter to sonny.
“Ma,” The nine year old boy tugged at her arm, trying to divert her attention away from the loud commotion that was her family during the holidays. Any outsider who set foot into a Falconeri household for a meal might assume that all they were doing was fighting, arguing because of the constant yelling and raising of voices. But no, it was just how her family had always been -- loud and obnoxious -- and she truly wouldn’t have them any other way. Olivia’s eyes drifted to her youngest son, a smile tugging at the corner of her hips, before she leaned in to press a kiss to his forehead. “What’s the matta’, baby?” She asked, realizing immediately that there was something on the little boy’s mind just by the look on his face. Olivia was good at reading people, but she was excellent at reading her children. They could fight her all they wanted, tell her that they were fine and dandy, but Olivia knew better every single time. “Can we go see dad?” It had been a difficult transition for all of them as a whole, really. But Cross especially. Olivia always did her best to make sure that his time was equally split between both her and Sonny during the holidays but this time, it had escaped her. The anniversary of Aliviyah’s death was just a mere few days ago and she’d been reeling in guilt and grief over that. This was the first time in the past week that she almost felt normal, though her heart still ached every time she realized that one of her children were missing from the group. Cross made it pretty clear that a simple phone call didn’t really equate to the real thing, he wanted to be with his father and his mother but given their split, it was always fairly difficult.
The night was long from over at her mother’s, but Olivia could see the hidden pleas behind his eyes that were begging her to bring him to see Sonny. She never denied them access to one another, never would, so it was only natural that she would nod her head. “Y’know what, baby, go get ya shoes on an’ ya jacket an’ I’ll make a plate’a food for y’oah fatha’.” Her accent slipped through the cracks of her words as she gave him a reassuring smile. One appeared on his own features, before he ran off in the direction of where he left his shoes. Olivia wasn’t entirely sure how Sonny was spending his Thanksgiving, but she’d go prepared as usual. After making a plate of food, complete with all of Sonny’s favorites and a side of her own homemade cannoli that he loved, Olivia and Cross said their goodbyes to the family and made the trip to Port Charles. The trip seemed longer than it actually was by the time they pulled into the gates of Greystone and she brought the car to a halt. “Rise an’ shine, sleepyhead. We’re h’eah.” She looked through the rearview mirror at her son, who was slowly coming to from his nap. The little boy ran ahead of her the moment his feet his the asphalt and he booked it towards the front door to knock, while Olivia lingered back with the plate of food and bag of cannoli in her hand.