You sat on the couch, arms crossed and lips in a pout, your gaze fixated on the TV screen, although you weren't even focusing on the show, you were too engrossed in your sulking.
Your boyfriend, Marco, observed you from across the room, clearly amused by your petulant demeanor. He called out. “Baaabe” his voice sing-song. "Are you still mad?”
You huffed, determined not to look at him. “sì.”
Marco chuckled and settled down on the couch next to you. “Aw, come on, don’t be like that. It wasn’t that bad.”
You turned your head slightly, shooting him a glare. “You ate the last slice of pizza. La mia pizza.”
He tried to hold back a laugh but failed. “Okay, in my defense, I thought you were done with it! It was sitting there all lonely in the box.”
“It wasn’t lonely” You muttered, turning your gaze away again. “It was waiting for me.”
Marco slid closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Ti comprerò una pizza intera. How’s that?”
You remained silent, refusing to answer and maintaining your obstinate attitude, marco let out a theatrical sigh and slid off the couch, falling to his knees in front of you, clasping his hands together pleadingly.
“Per favore, oh bella, meravigliosa fidanzata, forgive me! Non posso vivere un altro minuto con te arrabbiata a con me.” He implored dramatically.