ada
they/them
thirty-seven
october 11
lavender town
greysexual
secretary
civilian
if grief is an amputation, then hope is an incurable hemophilia
TAG WITH @adele
adele veronesi
affogato al caffè
POSTED ON Jul 6, 2024 10:21:41 GMT
was she.
was she not going to take it? mm, maybe they should’ve offered. it wasn’t as though they’d really drink two cups. maybe she was the type that needed an explicit invitation. “yeah?” adele mumbles, half-listening as they slide the second cup of coffee over towards their would-be coworker and signal with a light tap.
julian demassieux—sounded like a familiar name. that’d make sense. embassies rarely dealt with small names. maybe it’d crossed their desk a handful of times the past few years. they can’t put a face to it, though, so maybe they were just misremembering. were it that they took a little more pride in their work, adele might’ve been a little more impressed, but instead it comes out as:
“oh, kalosian. erm—”
they take a sip, then test out a few vowels.
even now, hoenn feels foreign on their tongue. the vowels don’t come out quite right and they never fully pronounce everything the whole way. words slur together, but it’s fluent enough to be understood by most ears. salvageable, except for when they’re not paying attention. “mm,” another experimental try before they finally land on a shoddily cobbled together: “enchanté, mademoiselle. je—parle? peu?”
cutting her off before she could even potentially reply, adele adds, “that’s pretty much all i remember from high school.” they take another sip.
a bittersweet attempt at trying to make polite conversation in lieu of leaving marilee to more of the same silence from before. they don’t remember ever being quite this inept, even as all evidence points to the contrary that they should’ve expected it.
not that she seems to notice, tripping over every thought from sheer nerves.
“but, if you don’t speak it, then uh. you know.” they quickly interject, “don’t report me to hr for a microaggression. please. they'll take my stapler.”
|
|