Summary:

“You will not be so nice when we beat you,” Ilya told Shane Hollander, holding onto his hand, not letting him pull away. Not yet. But Hollander’s brow furrowed, not in anger but in confusion. “Ah, um, sorry,” Hollander said. “Merci. My English is bad. Worse… than you. Maybe slower?” And he leaned in, like that would help him understand. Ilya’s eyebrows rose, and his smile widened. Or, Ilya Rozanov grew up in Russia. Shane Hollander was raised in France. When they first meet, neither of them can speak English very well. Somehow, it’s easier to understand each other when words aren’t getting in the way. (Stand-alone remix of “I’m Reading Your Lips (You’re Speaking My Language)” but this time neither of them are native English speakers, and learning a new language is sort of like falling in love, if you think about it.)