#nilleweekend

Italy has always been special. The country’s long history and all the history from the area before it was known as Italy. The citizens and the descendants of the people from the area before it was known as Italy. It was culture, life, history.

Italy was also special for another reason. A reason that concerned you and your … yeah, what exactly was he? He was Harrison. Best friend and assistant of Tom Holland, Marvel Cinematic Universe’s Spiderman. But also, an actor in his own right. A right, that you had spent years trying to get him to realize. Since you first got together, while both of you were in Italy, and until not long ago, when you again were in Italy, you had tried your hardest to get him to realize that he wasn’t getting cast just because his best friend was Spiderman and the reason to why he himself was a well-known person with his own group of fans. 

Now, it was three weeks after your last trip to Italy. Then it had been for his work. You had tagged along for some of your own work and that meant you had not really seen each other, other when both of you came back to your hotel late at night. Yes, you had shared some romantic moments and you convincing him, that he’s more than just Spidey’s real-life best friend, but it was work, not pleasure. 

This time. This time, it was for pleasure that you had gotten two plane tickets and a nice hotel room with a view of the watery streets of Venice. It had been easy to convince Harrison of the two of you going to Venice on a romantic getaway and it was now, where you were. You were out, slowly coming back to the hotel, after a lovely dinner in a small restaurant that you had found earlier in the day.

“Love?” You heard come quietly from the blue-eyed man beside you. With a smile full of love, you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” You replied, just as quietly.

“Ti voglio bene..” He said, leaning his head towards yours, gently placing a hand on your neck, letting his thumb caress your cheek. You responded quickly, closing the distance and pressing your lips against his. A hand of yours took hold of the dirty blonde hair on the back of his head, while the other rested against his chest. He held you tightly against him with his other arm, which was around your waist. Your lips gently battled against each other, until he started to suck on your lower lip, a sign that you both needed air. Pulling away from each other’s lips, your foreheads rested against each other

It wasn’t that you personally had any connections with Spain or the Spanish language, but as you got older and into more advanced grades, you developed a love for the romantic languages, especially Spanish. 

You were also a fast learner, and soon, people began to mistake you for speaking fluently. Yes, you were good at the Spanish language, but you were not fluent. 

You had known of Tom and the rest of the Holland family since you were quite small. Especially when you live on the same street and go to the same schools. But you had never connected with Tom or his younger brothers. Either because of different interests or simply just an age gap. In some way, you followed along in his experiences from the sidelines. 

Then, there was that day. You had been called to the student counselor office, quite randomly and as you entered the office with a light knock on the door, you saw Tom sitting in the office together with the counselor. 

“Tom here is having trouble with his Spanish classes,” the counselor started to explain with his well-known monotone voice. As the counselor explained that he had offered Tom, you as a tutor, your gaze switched between the two males. “Is that okay?” The counselor asked as an end to his explanation. 

“Yeah... Sure!” You nodded, not knowing how else to react, looking over at Tom, who was looking back at you, a thankful smile on his face as he heard your agreement.

Together with the counselor, you decided that every Tuesday, in a free period that you both had, you would sit down and go over the week’s homework and assignments.

The next Tuesday, you sat ready at a table in one of the open areas of the school waiting for Tom. While waiting you started to work on your own Spanish homework. 

“Tea... A..mo?” Someone spoke behind you, surprising you. Turning towards the voice, you saw Tom move away from reading over your shoulder.

“Casi... Almost!” You grinned. “Your pronunciation on the te was wrong. It’s not tea, but te. Most times in Spanish, when the letter t combined with the letter e, the t almost sounds like a hard d.” Tom nodded, listening closely as he sat down at the table. 

“So... how do you say it?” He asked, followed by a hurried, almost nervous: “With the correct pronunciation?”