Wow… Italy seemed like such a cool place. Spacious canals, a lot of lovely tourist spots, and the architecture was quite astonishing all in itself. The townspeople were kind and some of men you found, were quite flirtatious, especially with you (because you were new or if they thought you were really beautiful, you weren’t sure). What you found the most captivating, however, was the food. They had their pastas and their pizzas, yes, but their culinary arts branched out far beyond those examples. Polenta served with Sopressa and mushrooms, tiramisu, cotoletta alla milanese, and one newly Americanized product - Nutella! You wanted to eat it all!
You stopped by a simple-looking cafe and ordered yourself a table and some (fav/drink). You had been settled in for only 5 minutes when you felt someone staring at you. You looked up from the menu and saw a man, a little older than you, looking at you, with dark brown hair and a strange curl coming off the right side of his head. A small blush was dusted across his cheeks. There was another man next to him, a little shorter with lighter brown hair and a curl on the other side of his head, and seemed to be trying to get darker-heads attention.
Suddenly, the darker haired one stood up and went to your table. Taken by surprise, you just let him, not exactly knowing what to do. He sat down in the seat across from you and began speaking rapid Italian; to a point to where you couldn’t keep up.
“Ca-can I ask what you’re saying?” You asked, slightly timid since this man was extremely cute.
“E-eh? Tu non mi capisci? (You don’t understand me?)” The man gave you a confused expression. Then he smiled slyly. “Allora io posso dire quello che voglio, giusto? (Then I can say whatever I want, right?)”
“What are you saying?!” You asked him more persistently than before. “Um… non capisco… (I do not understand… )”
The man took out a piece of paper and down what seemed to be phone number and a message: “Chiamami (Call me).” And then, he went back to his… brother, you guessed, and yelled at him for something.
You glanced from the paper to the man and back to the paper again, wondering if you should actually call the man later on. He didn’t seem to speak any English, but… at the same time there was something about him that let you know he was hiding something.
By the end of your contemplation, you waiter was back with your drink and asked for what you wanted to eat. All the while, you kept glancing at the man, and wondering what to do about this…
~~Tomato Time Skipping~~
It was now evening, and you found yourself enjoying what seemed to be some form of a local party night festival. There was more food (much to your excitement), performers, and people dancing to street musicians dancing in the lights of the street. While munching on Sformato Trasteverino (a kind of kiwi custard tart), you noticed one particular performance with three men taking women from the crowd and dancing with them to the beat of the music.
One the men, you noticed, was the one from earlier in the cafe! You wanted to see what he was doing, so you went to get a closer look. The song had sadly ended, so the crowd began to disperse a little bit, making it easy to see what was happening. And the three men could also see you. The man with the curl on his left side had noticed you first, and got the attention of the man who had given you your number. The latter looked in the direction the former was pointing and his gaze zoned in on you. He smiled slightly and smoothly walked toward you, looking a little sexy while doing so.
You took you by the hands and led you into the beat of the next song, one you somewhat knew, called “We Speak No Americano”.
“Comme te po’ (How can the one) Comme te po’ (How can the one) Comme te po’ (How can the one) Comme te po’ capi chi te ve bene? (How can the one who love you understand you) Si tu le parle ‘mmiezzo americano? (If you’re speaking half American?) Quando se fa l’ammore sotto ‘a luna (When you’re making love under the moon) Come te vene ‘capa e di: “I love you?!” (How will you say: “I love you?!”)”
You let the eat sway you and the man as he sang along to the lyrics, which you understood from memorizing the online translations you’ve found. Giving up on singing in Italian, you switched to English, which surprised the man for a second before he continued on dancing with you to the beat.
“Pa pa l’ americano (We don’t speak American) Pa pa l’ americano (We don’t speak American) Pa pa l’ americano (We don’t speak American)
Fa l’ americano (You want to be American)
Pa pa l’ americano (We don’t speak American) Fa fa l’ americano (You want to be American)
Whiskey soda e rockenroll (Whiskey, soda, and rock and roll) Whiskey soda e rockenroll (Whiskey, soda, and rock and roll) Whiskey soda e rockenroll (Whiskey, soda, and rock and roll)”
The song’s beat continued a little longer before fading out pleasantly. You were still in the man’s grasp as he ended his dancing with you. He leaned down and pecked you on the cheek.
“You took your time,” he said, in perfect English. “You need to call quicker when someone offers you things like their love.”
~~Turtle-y Time Skip~~
“So you could speak English this whole time?” You asked, while at his home with his two brothers (the other men dancing with ladies).
“Si… all three of us can, but we prefer our own language over English.”
“But if I couldn’t understand you, why didn’t you just go to English?”
He paused, and then shrugged. “I felt like being different today.”
“Can I at least get a name?”
He laughed. “Lovino Vargas. And yours, la mia bella?”
You blushed a little, knowing what that meant. “(F/n) (L/n).”
Lovino hugged you, and kissed your cheek. “Montaggio di una bella signora del genere (Fitting for such a beautiful girl).”
“Huh?” You asked, a little invisible question mark appearing on the side of your head.
Lovino laughed. “Non parlo americano. (I don’t speak American.)”
I like to consider myself fluent in American, you know.
Me:"Hey Alfred, say something American to me!"
Alfred: "um, ok?!"
Alfred: "Yo, dudes, dudettes, let's go get ourselves some the totally amazeballs MickieD's! We could like hang out, and us dudes can check out the totally hot babes, and have our selves a most rad time! Remeber, be excellent to each other, and party on DUDES!" *America makes an epically awesome departure*
Me: "I do believe he said, boys and girls, let's go get some of the amazing or delicious McDonald's, and then us boys could hang out and look a beautiful girls, and together we could have an amazing and fun time together, and then I believe he quoted something...."
England: "how... how did you understand that?"
Me: "shhhhhh don't tell anyone, but there's this amazing thing called the Interwebs!"