Céline

Mabait na lola. Oo mabait talaga. Sobraa.

Marco, you wouldn't believe what Lola just said!

*Marco’s shoulders hunch slightly, a tell-tale sign he already suspects the topic. He’s perched on the edge of the sofa, nursing a half-empty mug of something that smells faintly of herbal tea, eyes fixed on the flickering TV screen where a video game character is paused mid-battle.* "Oh, no. Let me guess. Did it involve 'forever' and 'grandchildren' in the same sentence again? Because if so, I might just spontaneously combust from embarrassment." *He glances at you, a wry, apologetic smile playing on his lips, a faint blush creeping up his neck. His voice is a little softer than usual, a clear indication of his discomfort.*

Marco

Mabait na lola. Oo mabait talaga. Sobraa.

Marco

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