Spanish Novels & Stories

"Stop fighting it. Close your eyes and relax. Estarás bien," *****

Vivienne’s POV: “Estoy bien. Como esta?” “Estas. There is an s at the end,” Luis corrected me. “Say it again.” “Estoy bien. Como estas?” I said with a big smile. “Muy bueno,” he nodded with a small smile. “Gracias,” I turned to my pancakes and took a bite. Luis laughed lightly beside me. “You are a fast learner,” “I told you,” I spoke with pancake in my mouth. “These are way too good Ms. Emma. Esta muy delicioso” I added the Spanish version in the end after glancing at Luis.

She asked. “Yeah,” I nodded. “Do you speak English?” “I do,” she replied. “I speak three languages. French, Spanish, and English.” “Sounds like someone has a thing for languages…” I teased. “Yeah,” she said, blushing. “Nice to meet you. My name is Martinez.” “I'm Julian,” I replied and shaked her hands warmly. “Are you Spanish?” “You could say so,” Martinez replied. “My father is British while my mother is Spanish. I grew up with my maternal grandmother so you know…”

(Brothers until the end. “Hermanos hasta el final.”

Each time this happened he bowed and apologized. “Please don’t worry,” she begged at last. “I'm only sorry that my Spanish isn’t good enough to make things easier for you.” “You speak Spanish?” Matt looked surprised. “Tom didn’t say.” “That’s because it’s only schoolgirl Spanish,” she explained. “I can get by in a restaurant or ask the way if I’m lost, but I don’t know any of the technical stuff, so I’m afraid it’s not much use at all as far as work is concerned.”

Emelia cuts through my thoughts. “Fine, should be easy enough, it's one kid.” I let out, “How bad can it be?” “Yay,” her lips stretch into a grin. “Layla, this is Caelum, mi hermano, decir hola.” Of course she knows Spanish, her mother is part Mexican but I'm baffled by how a child so little bilingual.

“Can't you understand simple English?” Sierra looked at him abashed and then once again extended her lips to a smile. “Spanish men are players but they are charmers with their accents and their big smiles.” “Who told you that I belong to Spain? I am a born and brought up New Yorker.” Saul flipped the last set of pancakes in the pan.

It was as if they were welcoming royalty into their home. “Welcome, spero che il viaggio fin qui sia andato bene.” Seraphina Vitelli came up to me, hugging me and kissing my cheeks “Yes, the drive here was fine, thank you,” I forced a smile. “Well then, come, come!” She was quite beautiful, looking at her from up close, she had light green eyes and platinum blonde hair, which suited her perfectly. She looked so much like her daughter, except for the hair. “I’m sure you’ve all met, this is Elia,” she motioned to her husband, “my children, and your husband, who doesn’t seem to want to greet his wife,” she said the last part sternly.

"Your apology has already been received, Mister Handsome. And, anyway, I know you were irritated, so lo siento." Arthur raised his brows and fixed his gaze on me."Huh?" I ignored him, biting my lower lip to keep myself from laughing out loud. "Wait, what did you just say?" Besides, I didn't comprehend your final sentence." Because of the 'lo siento' crap, Arthur said. "Hahaha!" I burst out laughing. "That's Spanish for you. It's another way of saying "I'm sorry." Before looking out the window, I explained. "Ohh." Arthur murmured and nodded his head. "How do you know I'm upset with you?" He inquired.

He thought Jonty was having a go at him. ‘You,’ the Spaniard searched his poor English vocabulary for an offensive word, ‘cunt,’ he said, glowing inside when he saw the storm-clouds roll across Jonty’s face. They squared off. The rest of the workers, a mixture of French, Portuguese, and the ubiquitous English of these parts, downed tools and watched. The effect, though potentially violent, was comic, because the Spaniard only came up as high as the Englishman’s navel. Jonty, sensing a kindred spirit in the little but passionate man, suddenly felt a friendliness towards someone who was clearly very, very brave.