𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐚𝐠𝐞 [COMPLETE]

𝐞𝐬𝐭. 𝟎𝟒𝟔 { What Don't You Know }

"Joder, perdí la cuenta." I curse. The Spanish slips off my tongue like second nature. I always forget she has no clue what I was actually saying.
[Dammit, I lost count.]

Sage twists her body so her head is laid on my shoulder and she's looking up through her lashes, with a tired yet soft gaze. "Your Spanish is insanely good."

I tense momentarily.

"That kind of works in your favor when you're half Puerto-Rican." I shrug.

No one besides Miles knew this detail about me. Not that I preferred it but no one else has really gotten close enough to me to learn that small piece of information. For so long it felt like that part of me died with her.

"Wait, are you serious? Here I was thinking you actually paid attention in Spanish class all these years but your—" She trails off, brows sinking.

"My mom..." I clear my throat to get rid of my hoarse voice. My eyes wander over the bare ceiling and Sages gentle squeeze on my arm sends a reassuring jolt of energy through me. It was okay to talk about her. It was okay to remember her even though she couldn't do the same in her final days.

"I want to know about her."

I nod, holding her mesmerizing stare. Then I speak not knowing if my voice would falter. "She came to the states when she was a teenager. Puerto Rico had gotten hit by some devastating tropical storms that her family couldn't financially recover from. So with what little funds they had, my grandparents sent their only daughter to New York, where immigrants were most welcomed at the time. Of course she knew very little English so the language barrier hindered her school and job prospects. But when I was little she made it her mission to teach us her native tongue whether it was buying us translation books or going as far as only speaking Spanish for days at a time. To my mother it wasn't a barrier that people couldn't care to learn a few simple sentences in another language, it was a central part of her culture and how she grew up, to my mamá the spanish tongue was a blessing."

I let out the breath I've been holding for the past four years.

Her eyes bore into mine. "Teach me."

"What?"

Sage quickly sits up on the bed before removing the sheets from her body and crossing her legs into a pretzel.The shirt clearly does a horrible job at covering the hem of her boy shorts underneath and my eyes can't help but wander.

"I want to learn Spanish if you're going to be speaking it frequently—and if it's that important to you. I don't want that barrier between us."

I probably look like a fucking fish underwater the way my mouth gapes open and closes. It felt like I was drowning for a long time and finally the surface was able to break and I could breathe freely again when she uttered those two words.

Teach me

"Why?" I stupidly ask. She already answered, idiot.

"Why, Zachariah?" Her eyes glossed over, warm and inviting. "You wanna know why I could possibly want to learn an entirely different language just for you or why I couldn't get my first tattoo without your opinion. It's the same reason I can't form a single coherent thought when you look at me like the way you are right now."

I sucked in a breath and blinked.

"It's because I'm so madly in love with you."

My same exact words from last night leaving her lips in a torturing whisper send a creep of heat to the middle of my chest. A feeling that rarely occurs.

"You heard?" I swallow an invisible lump in my throat.

She smiles and it's a mirror reflection of my own. "I wanted to say it first but I didn't know if it was too soon but I'm glad that you did."