Hidden Meaning°•°•°

Idea of the scenario :

Lorenzo sometimes say romantic things to her but in Italian so she wouldn't understand and when [Y/n] would ask their meaning, he would tell he insulted her, not wanting to admit he told her meaningful feelings.

The oneshot :

The kitchen filled with the warm, familiar aroma of simmering tomato sauce and freshly boiled pasta.

[Y/n] hummed softly as she stirred the pot, occasionally sneaking glances at Lorenzo who leaned casually against the counter with his arms crossed, watching her like a hawk.

His sharp features had softened considerably since he laid his eyes on her and a faint smirk lingered on his lips.

"Stop staring at me", [Y/n] teased, not looking up. "I can feel your brooding intensity from here."

He tilted his head, his smirk widening. "Amore, you should be flattered. Not everyone gets the privilege of my 'brooding intensity'."

She rolled her eyes but her smile betrayed her amusement. "Oh, lucky me. Now stop brooding and help me. You're tall ; grab the cheese from the top shelf."

He obliged, retrieving the Parmesan with ease and handing it to her. "You're lucky I don't make you beg for it."

"Please", she said dramatically, snatching the cheese with a grin. "You'd starve without me."

Lorenzo chuckled, leaning closer as she grated the cheese over the pasta. "You assume I wouldn't just hire someone else to do the cooking."

"Oh, I'm sure you'd love that", she quipped. "Some poor chef getting an earful in Italian every time the sauce isn't perfect. No wonder you married me– you can't fire me."

He smirked, moving behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. "True. But you also make the best pasta I've ever had."

[Y/n] turned her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Really ? Even better than your Italian family back home ?"

His smirk faltered for a split second. "I will neither confirm nor deny that statement."

She burst out laughing. "Wow, I hope your mom doesn't hear about this. She'll disown you."

"Not if I bribe her", Lorenzo murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

[Y/n] relaxed into his embrace, stirring the sauce as he held her. For a moment, the world felt quiet and peaceful.

Then he broke the silence, his voice low and smooth as he said something in Italian : "𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐥𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐮̀ 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐢 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨, 𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐢̀ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚."

[Y/n] froze, blinking. "Okay, what was that ? It sounded suspiciously sweet."

Lorenzo straightened, immediately slipping into his usual stoic expression. "I insulted your cooking", he said flatly, letting go of her and stepping back.

She turned to face him, narrowing her eyes. "That didn't sound like an insult. That sounded like..." She mimicked his tone : "Romantic nonsense."

He shrugged, his face a mask of indifference. "Believe what you want."

[Y/n] huffed, crossing her arms. "Fine. I'll just look it up later."

Lorenzo's eyes widened imperceptibly and he leaned against the counter with feigned nonchalance. "Good luck with that. My Italian is far too advanced for Google Translate."

She squinted at him. "I feel like you're lying to me but I can't prove it."

"Smart girl", he said with a smirk, clearly amused.

As they sat down for dinner, the banter continued. Lorenzo would occasionally mutter something in Italian, each phrase softer and more heartfelt than the last :

"𝐕𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐢 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐠𝐧𝐢 𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐞."

"𝐍𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐚𝐢 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐢 𝐚𝐦𝐨."

[Y/n], growing increasingly suspicious, eventually pointed her fork at him. "Okay, seriously. What are you saying ? You're not insulting me, are you ?"

Lorenzo leaned back in his chair, his smirk returning. "Of course I am. Terrible insults. The kind that would make you cry."

She narrowed her eyes. "Lorenzo..."

He raised his hands in mock innocence. "What ? You told me earlier you didn't speak Italian. You'll never know."

She groaned, leaning back in her chair. "I'm going to hire an Italian tutor just to figure out what you're saying."

He chuckled softly, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hand as he looked at her. "You do that, amore. But until then, you'll have to live with the mystery."

[Y/n] pouted but the corners of her mouth twitched upward as she reached for her wine glass. "One day, I'll catch you slipping. Just wait."

He smiled to himself, watching her as she ate, completely unaware of the depth of his words. He didn't mind keeping his feelings wrapped in Italian for now– after all, the game of teasing her was half the fun.

But as the night wore on and they lingered at the table, their laughter mingling with the soft clink of wine glasses, he couldn't help but murmur one last phrase under his breath :

"𝐓𝐢 𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐮̀ 𝐝𝐢 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐮 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐞."

She looked up, suspicious as always. "What was that ?"

He smirked, taking a sip of his wine. "Just another insult, cara. Don't worry about it."

And with an exaggerated eye roll, she let it go– leaving him to chuckle quietly to himself, content in the knowledge that sometimes, love was best expressed in ways only he understood.

As the days went by, Lorenzo made it his personal mission to keep [Y/n] on her toes with his cryptic Italian remarks.

It became a game for him– whispering words of love and admiration in his native language while watching her frown, convinced he was slyly insulting her.

One afternoon, [Y/n] was in the garden, watering her potted plants when he walked up behind her. He stood there silently for a moment, taking in the sight of her in the sunlight, her hair catching the golden rays. A small smile tugged at his lips, and he couldn't help himself.

"𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐩𝐢𝐮̀ 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐞, 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐨", he murmured softly.

[Y/n] straightened up, narrowing her eyes as she turned to face him. "There you go again ! What did you just say ? That better not have been an insult, Loren !"

Lorenzo leaned against the garden fence, his smirk firmly in place. "I said you're a terrible gardener."

She gasped, pointing the watering can at him like a weapon. "What ?! I'll have you know my plants are thriving !"

He chuckled, holding his hands up defensively. "If you say so, amore."

She scowled, stomping past him. "One day, I'm going to find out what you're really saying, and you'll regret it, Lorenzo !"

He let her go, shaking his head and laughing quietly to himself.

Later that evening, [Y/n] stood in front of the mirror, trying on a new dress she'd ordered. Lorenzo, sitting on the edge of the bed, watched her with an unreadable expression. She spun around, catching his gaze.

"Well ? What do you think ?" She asked, smoothing down the fabric.

He tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning her from head to toe.

"𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐥𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐮̀ 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐢 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨. 𝐍𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐨 𝐚 𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢 𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢."

She frowned, her hands going to her hips. "There it is again ! What was that ? You definitely called me something just now. Was it bad ? It sounded bad."

Lorenzo lips twitched, barely holding back a laugh. "I said you look ridiculous."

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me ?! This dress is gorgeous !"

He stood, walking over to her with his signature smirk firmly in place. "You asked for my opinion, cara."

"Well, your opinion is wrong", she shot back, glaring up at him. "I look amazing."

He chuckled, his hands settling on her waist as he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"𝐒𝐢̀, 𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐚."

[Y/n] pulled back, glaring suspiciously. "That better not mean I look like a clown."

He straightened up, his expression feigning innocence. "Why would I say that ? You look... acceptable."

She swatted at him, her cheeks puffing in frustration. "You're impossible !"

The next morning, [Y/n] was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when Lorenzo walked in, still half-asleep but somehow managing to look as composed as ever.

He kissed her temple in greeting then grabbed a cup of coffee before leaning casually against the counter.

[Y/n], stirring pancake batter, glanced at him. "Don't just stand there looking pretty. Help me with the plates."

Lorenzo smirked over the rim of his coffee cup. "𝐓𝐢 𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐢̀ 𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐚 𝐝𝐢 𝐭𝐞."

She froze mid-stir, narrowing her eyes at him. "What now ? What was that ?"

He lowered his cup, his smirk widening. "I said you're bossy in the mornings."

She threw a towel at him. "I am not bossy ! You just don't listen !"

Lorenzo ducked the towel easily, laughing as he set down his coffee. He walked over, sliding an arm around her waist as she glared at him.

"Relax, amore. You're cute when you're mad."

She scowled, though her lips twitched. "I bet you think this is so funny, don't you ? Driving me crazy with your mysterious Italian insults."

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "𝐌𝐢 𝐟𝐚𝐢 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢 𝐢 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢."

She pulled back, giving him the stink eye. "Did you just call me annoying ?!"

"Something like that", he said, laughing as he stepped away before she could smack him.

Days turned into weeks and Lorenzo's antics didn't let up. He would compliment her cooking, her smile, even her stubbornness– all in Italian, knowing she wouldn't understand a word of it.

One evening, as they lay on the couch watching a movie, he pulled her closer, tucking her under his arm.

"𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐥𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚, [Y/n]. 𝐍𝐨𝐧 𝐜,𝐞̀ 𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐦𝐨 𝐩𝐢𝐮̀ 𝐝𝐢 𝐭𝐞."

She looked up at him suspiciously. "You're doing it again."

He smirked, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Don't worry about it, amore."

"I am worried about it", she grumbled, snuggling closer. "One of these days, Loren, I'm going to figure out what you've been saying. And when I do..."

"You'll fall even more in love with me", he finished confidently.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, right. You probably call me a potato or something."

He chuckled softly, tightening his hold on her. "If you only knew, cara mia", he murmured, his voice filled with warmth.

But for now, the mystery remained and Lorenzo was content to keep his sweet secrets hidden in plain sight.

♛ | •·.·• {Time skip} •·.·• | ♛

One evening, as they sat on the couch with a bowl of popcorn between them, [Y/n] caught him watching her instead of the movie. She paused mid-chew, narrowing her eyes.

"What ?" She asked, her mouth still full.

He smirked. "𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐨."

She frowned, pointing at him with a piece of popcorn. "Okay, I caught adorabile. That means adorable, right ? But I know you added something else in there."

He shrugged, clearly amused. "You're imagining things."

"No, I'm not !" She protested. "What did you say, Loren ?"

He leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "I said you're adorable. That's all."

She didn't buy it for a second. "You're lying. I can see it all over your smug face."

He chuckled but didn't elaborate.

The real turning point came one afternoon when [Y/n] was cleaning out the pantry. She'd been muttering to herself about expired spices when Lorenzo appeared, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

"You're really going to reorganize the entire kitchen ?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, because someone keeps throwing things back in here without a second thought", she said, shooting him a pointed look.

He smirked. "𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐥𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐩𝐢𝐮̀ 𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐢𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐢 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨."

[Y/n] paused, glaring at him. "Okay, now you're just doing it on purpose. I know that wasn't nice."

Lorenzo chuckled, stepping closer and taking her hand. "It means you're stubborn, amore. But I like that about you."

She squinted at him suspiciously. "Are you sure that's all it means ? Because if I find out later you're calling me a mule or something, I'm throwing your pasta out the window."

He laughed, pulling her into his arms. "I'd never waste good pasta like that."

"You're dodging the question, Loren."

It wasn't until one particularly quiet night, when they were sitting by the fireplace with glasses of wine that he finally felt the need to say something he couldn't hide behind Italian anymore.

[Y/n] was curled up next to him, her head resting on his shoulder as she traced idle patterns on his hand.

"[Y/n]", he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and curious. "Hm ?"

He hesitated, his usual confidence wavering for just a moment. Then he leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"𝐒𝐞𝐢 𝐭𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞", he murmured.

[Y/n] smiled sleepily. "Let me guess. Another insult ?"

Lorenzo shook his head, smiling despite himself. "No, amore. Not this time."

"Then what ?" She asked, tilting her head to look at him.

He met her gaze, his dark eyes filled with something unspoken. "It means... you're everything to me."

Her breath caught, her playful demeanor softening. "Oh", she whispered, her voice barely audible.

His lips quirked up into a small, vulnerable smile. "See ? I can be honest in any language."

She grinned, her eyes shining with love as she leaned up to kiss him. "Took you long enough", she teased softly.

ೃ·•°•·ღ REQUEST ღ·•°•· ೃ

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(A/n) : I hate economics... this shit is soooo boring ! Why did I choose this subject, WHY ?! Plus I'm next to this boy who deserves slaps at every chance given !! I swear one day I'm gonna beat the shit out of him !! He would never shut that nasty mouth of his, always joking about disgusting things with his friends like can't he just laugh with them in SILENCE ?! Not everyone and especially me, wants to hear your dirty jokes ! Well, whatever.

See ya ! 👋