Colombian Accent 소설 & 이야기

The sound of his accent was like music to my ears. "Mi amor," he said. I looked back at Cullen, who was watching me from across the room. I couldn't let him know what was going on. "Darling," I cooed, trying to sound as sweet as possible. "How are you?" Ignacio's voice was warm and affectionate. "I miss you. When will you be back?"

We imprinted, and the fates made sure I have no desire to look at anyone else, even if he did reject me. I inhale sharply, shake it off, and go back to staring at the fire, trying not to let him get to me as the door swings open and two boys stomp in arguing with one another “You’re a liar, I didn’t say anything of the sort.” The first male snaps, turning and spotting me and instantly frowning like he’s just been faced with a terrible or vile sight. He stops dead as the other collides into the back of him with an exaggerated ‘whooomph’ noise. He’s unsurprisingly dark haired, tanned and has your typical Colombian look to him. All the Santos originated from there, before coming here a few gene

He finally speaks, he had a thick accent, but not the same accent as Kol did. Santiago sounded like he was from a Spanish speaking country, or somewhere around one. He has the same accent as my Spanish teacher in high school had. “Santiago omega? Nice to meet you…`` I gave him a small inviting smile even though he didn’t see it since his eyes were still glued to the floor. “Yuhs, that is correct ma'am,” He chuckles before he hums as he takes a sip of his coffee.. Where was I? And who was Santiago?

He had piercings all over his face making him look so much hideous and I wondered inwardly how such hooligans and brutes manage to be in such a neighborhood like this. “Damn her skin's so soft amigos.” His accent was clear local Spanish. Probably a Mexican. The other guys laughed and their eyes suddenly turned lustful making me shiver bitterly. The cold gusty wind wasn't helping right now either. The breeze became violent and one quickly said. “Hamagos rápidamente aquello a lo que vinimos aquí!” (Let's do what we came here for quickly!) He sounded harsh and one spoke. “Hand over all your belongings! Hurry up!”

I haven’t even tried his food, but I just want to finish this and see what kind of mess he’s cooked up. “So,” he says evenly, “you and Valeria seem pretty close.How long have you known each other?” Dante asks, about to take another bite of empanadas. “A year,” I say quickly. Dante lifts a brow, like he’s saying, "I wasn’t talking to you, missy." “Thanks, Valeria.” I don’t miss the sarcasm in his voice. “You’re welcome, babe,” I mutter. “You’re not used to this sort of food? Valeria says it’s popular in Colombia.” Dante sips his wine, staring at Diego through the glass.

amused by her reaction. “Easy there, mami,” he says, his accent slipping into something smoother, something faintly Hispanic. Cuban, maybe, or possibly Puerto Rican. “No need to fantasise about my death just yet...” Miyuki blinks, momentarily caught off guard by the shift in his voice, before her wolf growls in the back of her mind, being both satisfied and angered by his willingness to test her, challenge her... “Do not call me that,” she snaps, her tone sharp enough to send any submitting in reverence. But not Cole...

“You speak English.” “I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.” He scratched the back of his head. “Most of us know how to speak English.” His accent was very strong, but his English was perfect. “It’s highly unlikely that I would tell you I don’t know how to speak Spanish, and you still proceed to speak Spanish to me.” “Well, I’ll rearrange my words by saying a few of us know how to speak good English without pausing to think of the next word.”

The last thing Jaime wanted to do was add to Adam’s plate when the vineyard still wasn’t out of the red completely. As the night wore on, Jaime began muttering in Spanish, calling Eric all kinds of names he wouldn’t understand. Everyone knew when Jaime spoke Spanish in the kitchen was when he was pissed. The words flowed in a river of rolled r’s and slightly lisped c’s, the accent regional to El Salvador and how his parents spoke Spanish at home.

“LA, right?” Jay seemed to stiffen and nodded curtly. She looked out the window. Weird hunk. Why wouldn’t he like people recognizing his accent? “Yeah, LA,” he said though. “And you? I can’t quite get your accent. Holland, Belgium?” She thought that was a nice touch, pretending to believe she was European. “South America,” she replied with a tight smile. “Really? You don’t look Hispanic at all—” “Said the redneck.”

Lisa replied. “I can, too,” Kimberly added. Maria addressed Kim in rapid-fire Spanish. Kim noted that Maria’s Spanish was the highly cultured Spanish of Madrid but without the Castilian lisp. It was anything but the uncultured, nearly illiterate Spanish of the typical campesina. To the utter astonishment of everyone — particularly including Brad — Kim replied in the same language and with the identical accent. “Madre de Dios!” Lisa exclaimed. “She really can!” Then to Maria she said, “That makes two of us. It’s your choice.”