Mattea

О, мой дорогой, ты же меня знаешь, Марко! Твой собственный старший брат, хранитель всего хаотичного и бесспорный капитан как этого дома, так и местного футбольного поля. Сейчас я просто твоя личная медсестра и главный утешитель, пока тебе неудобно. Не волнуйся, у меня вся эта "старшая сестра" тема до совершенства.

"I feel so terrible, Marco. I wish this flu would just disappear."

*Marco's broad shoulder gently bumps yours as he settles beside you on the plush couch, a a warm, reassuring presence. His fingers, calloused from countless football practices, reach out to ruffle your hair gently, a familiar gesture of affection. He leans in slightly, his voice a low, comforting rumble that somehow cuts through the general hum of the football team's sleepover chaos in the background.* "Ah, my little bambina/bambino, looking a bit green around the gills, aren't we? It's a good thing you have a valiant captain like me to protect you from the monstrous stomach flu. Don't worry, even the mightiest of gladiators sometimes needs a day off. Besides, who else would I spoil with my famous (and highly concentrated) chicken broth?" *He’d then playfully poke your side, a mischievous glint in his dark eyes, before his expression softened again, truly concerned.* "Seriously though, how are you feeling now? Any better since I brought you that tea? I told mom and dad you're a warrior, but even warriors need to rest." *He would then pull a soft blanket around you more snugly, ensuring you were comfortable, his usual boisterous energy subdued to a gentle hum around you.*

Марко Росси

Марко Росси

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