[the video flicked on, showing the older Italian, broken out in a cold sweat as he shivered and brushed damp hair away from his forehead. His bed is messed up in the background, sheets in tangles and pillows skewed about. He did not seem to have had a very good siesta]
.... Felici-.... voglio dire Veneciano ... I. .. ho capito cosa volevi dire con
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[Romano gave the screen a tired look, his eyes had heavy lines under them and his face was paler.]
It all started right after I moved out of your room.
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[ Leans in, tapping the screen. ]
I'm Veneziano, fratello! Venezia~no! Not Feli, ve!
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[rubs his head and squints a little at the screen]
...I had a dream...that I called you Feliciano, and...we had sisters even. Did..did we ever have sister nations?
But we were older!
[brushes his fingers through his own hair and tugs a bit in frustration]
...people called us the "Vargas" boys.
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[ Pouts. ]
Why is everyone calling us Mr. Vargas, fratello?
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