| |
|
"Defanitly, sbalorditivo" He complemented, true words. |
|
|
| |
|
"Sbalorditivo?" Liliana repeated. "Doesn't that mean stupid, or some shit?" |
|
|
| |
|
"No, it means astonishing." Marco corrected, internally seething himself for not translating quicker. |
|
|
| |
|
"Ah, I see. I took some Italian for extra credits in school, but I never learned much, the teacher was absent as hell." She grinned. |
|
|
| |
|
"Huh, they usually suck. But then again, it was bashed into me 'til I learned it, anyway." He mused, chuckling lightly. |
|
|
| |
|
"Mine was just non-existant pretty much. Like, 95% of my teachers." She mused. |
|
|
| |
|
"Mine was just non-existant pretty much. Like, 95% of my teachers." She mused. |
|
|
| |
|
"Maybe I can teach you some, only if w-" He cut off, his phone ringing and him grabbing it, hardening when he read the contact. It was the man's father, calling for what seemed the 80th time that week. "What do you want?" Marco started in Italian, excusing himself to somewhere he could be loud and not be bashed for. The two bickered back and forth until Marco got so fed up he hung up and tossed his phone into the dirt, sitting next to the tree he was under as he went to cool off. |
|
|
| |
|
"Marco, are you alright?" Liliana asked, concerned. |
|
|
| |
|
"I'm fine." He snapped, not looking up at her. |
|
|
Clear with Temps dropping into the Teens
