Part One
1272 Words
Although she gathered each item one by one, she still finished a little before the end of the hour was up.
She hailed a taxi and gave the cabbie directions to her own house before running inside quickly to grab something and then bolting back into the cab. By now the weather had changed drastically, from sunny and warm to now cold and dreary, giving Elizabeth mixed emotions, almost like watching that one nationwide commercial about the little boy.
Angelo had scouted the library a bit through the cameras, good enough to get a better idea of the layout, before getting bored of looking at the same employees scratching their nuts or God knows what else every few minutes.
He first heavily modified everything about his computer and network, so that if anyone were to track him, he would appear to be a fifty year old Arabian woman living in Sweden, then booted up a program of his own design, and attempted to gain access to the hospital's cameras, as well as the activity of some of the staff's computers.
"The f**k?!" He said as he noticed some employees' search history.
"...Okay, definitely bookmarking this."
He decided to go multi monitor, and boot up a game. Within five minutes of getting on a server, a great many things could be heard from his room. Mostly screaming. "FIND A f*****g BRIDGE YOU f*****g SQUEAKER! GET A NEW f*****g TAUNT, THAT ONE'S OVER A MONTH OLD!" Angelo said, among other things. He groaned as his team lost once again. "When the f**k is she coming?!"
"When do you expect me to be here?" A familiar voice answered his question.
“That was quick.” He said, as he turned his chair around, expecting to see Elizabeth.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth was not the woman he saw.
“Hey sexy.” Said Stella, the ex-girlfriend of Angelo’s brother from back in Italy. “Did you miss me?”
“Not at all.”
“That’s rude.” She smirked at his attitude and pushed herself off from leaning against the wall. "Penso che dovrò ricordarti come trattare una ragazza." she said, taking off her jacket and obviously making herself at home.
“Sorry, bella donna, but I’m Angelo, Not Lucas.”
“Ah, hai fatto quella battuta l'ultima volta che mi hai chiesto di venire." She purred, wrapping her arms around the wrong brother. “Sono troppo intelligente per essere ingannato due volte."
“Non sono d'accordo. Ora, se non ti dispiace, vorrei tornare al mio gioco ora." Angelo turned around in an attempt to ignore her, but Stella was not one to be easily ignored.
“Luca, amore-”
"Il suo nome è Lucas. Ha cambiato nome quando siamo venuti qui. Ora vai." Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Stella’s dark, muddy-brown eyes were intertwined with the chocolatey hazel irises of Angelo. Again, there was another knock.
“Non osare muoverti.” Angelo said in a gruff, deep voice. Stella gave him an evil smile and bolted for the door, roughing up her hair as she did before answering the door.
"I just wanted to be sure I got the-oh. Well, hello there."
Elizabeth gave a small wave to the attractive woman standing in the doorway. “Chi è questo bambino?” Asked Stella, placing a hand on her hip. "Lei sembra un po 'giovane a voi.”
“Pardon? I only know French besides English. Could you repeat that in a way I could understand?”
Stella looked behind her and leered at Angelo. “È troppo innocente. Come una piccola cagna che sta per giocare a prendere.” Stella laughed and snorted as Angelo’s eyes narrowed.
“Pardon, did you just say ‘cagna’?”
As Stella opened her mouth to respond, Elizabeth gave a look that sent a chill down even Angelo’s spine. Elizabeth reserved this look for only special occasions, like this particular moment, for an example.
"Listen here, Stronzo, I may not know a lot of languages, but I know what ‘cagna’ is Italian for, and frankly, I should hope that you weren’t talking about me, because if you were, il tuo culo sarà così dolorante per l'abuso che riceverai in prigione che non sarai nemmeno in grado di camminare dritto, patetico pezzo di merda, you got that?”
Stella’s mouth was left wide open and gaping like a fish on land. She slowly stepped down from the front step and made her way to the street to wave a cab. Turning around, she shouted back something along the lines of “il suo cazzo è troppo piccolo perché io possa godermelo comunque” before climbing into the cab and going on her way.
Elizabeth turned to face inside the inside of Angelo’s living area.
"Forgot I didn't lock the door." He shrugged inwardly, obviously embarrassed with himself.
"That you did, Yogi, that you did." She grinned widely. "Hello." She gave a little wave.
“Hi.” He gestured for her to enter his home and she did.
As Elizabeth made her way inside, she looked around Angelo’s living space. “Wow. You definitely like to keep to yourself, don’t you?” She said, nodding to the piles of random books and movies hugging tightly to one of the walls.
“I suppose you could say that,” Angelo smirked and led her over to one of the couches facing a window where they both sat down. “I thought you didn’t know Italian?”
Elizabeth looked down a bit. “I mean, I don’t know a lot. My” she paused mid-sentence, “friend...took Italian in high school. She taught us quite a few insults and obscenities before...um.” Elizabeth stopped speaking.
After a moment, Angelo broke the silence. “I see. You know, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Angelo moved a bit closer to her, and, in an attempt to comfort her, he wrapped an arm around her and held her tightly. “Shhhhh, it’s okay,” he whispered into her hair as she gripped his shirt tightly, clutching herself to him as if holding on for dear life, and, in her mind, she was.
A few moments passed before the two broke apart.
Translations
I think I'll have to remind you how to treat a girl.
Sorry, pretty lady, but I’m Angelo, Not Lucas.
Ah, you made that joke the last time you asked me to come. I'm too smart to be fooled twice.
I don't agree with that. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to go back to my game now.
Luca, love-
His name is Lucas. He changed his name when we came here. Now go.
Don't you dare move.
Who's the kid
She seems a little young for you.
She is too innocent. Like a little b***h who's going to play catch.
Pardon, did you just say ‘b***h’
Listen here, Asshole, I may not know a lot of languages, but I know what 'b***h' is Italian for, and frankly, I should hope that you weren't talking about me, because if you were, your ass will be like this sore from the abuse you will receive in prison that you won't even be able to walk straight, pathetic piece of s**t, you got that
his c**k is too small for me to enjoy it anyway
- Writer
