I understood a lot simply by being surrounded by it. But there was something wrong with my brain — and confidence — when it came to speaking it. I’d only embarrass myself.
Which was why I needed Fia.
I started a lesson in English on the app, losing two hearts to silly, distracted mistakes in the first minute. My hands tightened around the tiny screen, wondering just how much pressure would make it crack.
“You hurt it,” said a voice in badly enunciated Hungarian.
I closed my eyes, my knuckles whitening. Just what I needed.Nora.
“It deserves it,” I snapped. “What do you want?”
“I see Fia,” she told me.
“Yes.”
I was already done with this conversation.
“She look very chair today.You think?”
My skull was starting to pound, considering her word choice.Did I suddenly lose my understanding of Hungarian as well?
“Chair?”
“Yes.”
How had we been together for so long?She made no sense.
Literally, with her words but also… her and me.
But back then, I hadn’t needed a strong relationship with who I screwed, because I had my grandfather, my mother, mybrother, and my health.
Now, I didn’t have those. But I had Fia.
“Chair,” I said slowly, praying she would interrupt me, realise her mistake, and save my sanity.
She nodded.
God give me strength— and then it hit me. She’d got confused. She meant beautiful.
I closed my eyes, imagining Fia’s cackle when I told her and handed her a pizza.
“One of the prettiest pieces of furniture I’ve ever seen,” I said with a smile.
Her mouth opened, eyes narrowed, trying to translate.
Good luck to her.
“What do you want, Nora?”
“You and Fia. Your sister. Having sex.” She said it with a chuffed, rattling little smile.
That scrunched my nose.
I raised a brow. Maybe if I pretended her attempts at Hungarian were so wrong, and I simply didn’t understand her, she might just piss off.
“Not sister,” I said as if talking to a toddler. “Not sex.”
Nora rolled her eyes. “Lies.”
