I had only known Rafael a few months before I gave in to a secret desire I’d had since I was very young.
I called him one day, and he agreed to go to lunch with me.
“You speak Spanish, don’t you?” I asked him with little preamble. He nodded, a little surprised.
“Would you…teach me? My mother was Mexican, but she died before I could learn much more than the basics. I always meant to become fluent, but I concentrated on sciences in college, and Latin in high school. My life isn’t as full now as it once was, and…I’d like to learn. To have something of my mother’s again.”
Rafael smiled slowly, but sincerely. “Gladly, mi bonita nigromanta
A/N: mi bonita nigromanta means “my pretty necromancer.”