James grimaces; he had not wanted to ask that question for this precise reason- he would now have to confess to Sparrow (who had, he was sure, contrived his question to as to push James to such a confession) that he had had such difficulty reading the book that he had been forced to, well, give up. Or choose to stop- that sounds quite a bit better.
He too looks to the side, his mouth twisting irritably. He hates this- he has a hard enough time admitting to himself that is less than perfect at something, to have to say so to Jack Sparrow… the sting is near unbearable. However, there seems to be no way around it and finally he speaks, his voice stiff.
‘It, ah, has been quite the span of years since I last studied Italian. I am quite fluent in both French and Spanish, as well as numerous Carib dialects, but Italian was never the great focus of my schooling.’ He coughs. ‘Undoubtedly my skill is superior to yours in this respect,' A small victory, to be sure, and he feels petty even saying it, but he seems compelled somehow to assure his victory over Sparrow at least in this. He continues. 'But it is… nothing great.’
no subject
He too looks to the side, his mouth twisting irritably. He hates this- he has a hard enough time admitting to himself that is less than perfect at something, to have to say so to Jack Sparrow… the sting is near unbearable. However, there seems to be no way around it and finally he speaks, his voice stiff.
‘It, ah, has been quite the span of years since I last studied Italian. I am quite fluent in both French and Spanish, as well as numerous Carib dialects, but Italian was never the great focus of my schooling.’ He coughs. ‘Undoubtedly my skill is superior to yours in this respect,' A small victory, to be sure, and he feels petty even saying it, but he seems compelled somehow to assure his victory over Sparrow at least in this. He continues. 'But it is… nothing great.’