Fiction: Never Forget
Jan. 6th, 2013 10:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
clare_dragonflyTitle: Never Forget
Word count: 769
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic Tyrian Purple 27, Cupid's arrow; Heart Gold 26, Love is always bestowed as a gift -- freely, willingly, and without expectation.... We don't love to be loved; we love to love. - Leo Buscaglia and "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temporary." - Shakespeare's Sonnet 18
Notes: Angeline is one of the main characters of the novel I'm currently working on--one of the narrator's love interests (because if I'm going to write a typical YA love triangle, it's at least going to be a bisexual one). This takes place a year or two before the story.
The moment Angeline saw her new roommate, she knew her heart was lost.
At the time, she didn’t know what it meant.
But she saw this tall girl with dark red hair and snapping green eyes, this laughing girl who heaved up her trunk with barely a shrug, this pleasant girl who teased and gasped and smiled liquidly, and she knew: this was love.
Once they had brought Angeline things up to the room and Eirene had chattered away for nearly an hour with pauses for Angeline to speak if she wished to, but no offense when she did not, they finally sat to rest and Eirene beamed at her. “You’re going to love it here,” she promised, as though Angeline did not already.
Angeline nodded. “I hope so.” She was afraid to be as direct as she would like. She was always afraid.
“I can’t wait to introduce you to the teachers,” said Eirene. “Don’t tell anyone, but Miss Rosato is my favorite.”
“What does she teach?” Angeline asked, because she felt as though she ought to contribute to the conversation somehow, though all she wanted to do was listen to Eirene’s beautiful voice.
“The kitchen garden,” said Eirene. Was that a tiny bit of hesitation? No, Angeline was imagining things. She was always imagining things. “It’s a great class, and we get to go outside. But Paola—Miss Rosato, don’t tell anyone I call her by her first name—she is just a really good teacher. She’s always kind and there to listen when you need someone to talk to.”
Angeline nodded again. “But I could talk to you.”
Eirene grinned even more widely. “Yes, of course you can!”
—
“Wait a moment,” said Eirene, catching hold of Angeline’s hand as she made to follow everyone else down the stairs.
Angeline turned, and she waited, even though it made her uncomfortable. Because Eirene had asked her to.
Eirene drew her forward, toward the battlements of the tower they stood in. She gestured out over the land. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes,” said Angeline. “But I’m looking at you.”
She was never so bold, except when she was alone with Eirene. Because it made Eirene laugh and pull Angeline into her arms and kiss her over and over.
Eventually, though, Eirene released Angeline and turned her again to face the battlements, looking north over the mountains. This way was the summit of their own mountain, but from here that could not be seen unless it was a clear day and you were looking straight up. “It is beautiful,” Eirene said softly, more softly than she was accustomed to speaking. “I wanted to look at it with you because you are so beautiful. I could not compare you, but I wanted to give you this.”
Angeline took Eirene’s hand in her own. “You have already given me everything.”
“No,” said Eirene, putting her arm around Angeline’s shoulders and pulling her close. “I have not given you nearly enough.”
She kissed her again, her tongue warm and wet. She pulled off her gloves, one at a time, and then pulled away Angeline’s gloves, so they were skin to skin and trembling.
She pressed her down gently to the stone floor, warmed by magic and then by their bodies.
—
“You’re getting married,” Angeline whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall. She did not know why all she could do was stand there and whisper and clutch her hands together. She wanted to scream, to sob, to throw things—not that she knew what she would throw. But of course, she was quiet; she was always so quiet. And no one could know why she was upset about Eirene leaving. It would ruin both of them.
“Yes,” said Eirene. She would not look at Angeline. She packed her clothes quickly, neatly, folding them into perfect squares in her trunk. “You knew I would. You knew that I always wished to marry—and Mr. Rossellini is a fine match. The best I could hope for.”
“Why must you leave me so soon?” Angeline said.
“You know why,” said Eirene. Her voice was flat, mechanical. “There is no reason for me to stay at this school. I have finished my studies. I have learned everything the teachers have to offer. I have a match. I cannot stay.” She closed her trunk and latched it, then heaved it off her bed. She was still so strong.
“Goodbye, Angeline,” said Eirene. “I will never forget you.”
Angeline just nodded, even though Eirene still would not look at her. She would not forget her, either.
Did you enjoy this story? You can see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!
Word count: 769
Rating: PG-13
Prompt:
rainbowfic Tyrian Purple 27, Cupid's arrow; Heart Gold 26, Love is always bestowed as a gift -- freely, willingly, and without expectation.... We don't love to be loved; we love to love. - Leo Buscaglia and "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temporary." - Shakespeare's Sonnet 18Notes: Angeline is one of the main characters of the novel I'm currently working on--one of the narrator's love interests (because if I'm going to write a typical YA love triangle, it's at least going to be a bisexual one). This takes place a year or two before the story.
The moment Angeline saw her new roommate, she knew her heart was lost.
At the time, she didn’t know what it meant.
But she saw this tall girl with dark red hair and snapping green eyes, this laughing girl who heaved up her trunk with barely a shrug, this pleasant girl who teased and gasped and smiled liquidly, and she knew: this was love.
Once they had brought Angeline things up to the room and Eirene had chattered away for nearly an hour with pauses for Angeline to speak if she wished to, but no offense when she did not, they finally sat to rest and Eirene beamed at her. “You’re going to love it here,” she promised, as though Angeline did not already.
Angeline nodded. “I hope so.” She was afraid to be as direct as she would like. She was always afraid.
“I can’t wait to introduce you to the teachers,” said Eirene. “Don’t tell anyone, but Miss Rosato is my favorite.”
“What does she teach?” Angeline asked, because she felt as though she ought to contribute to the conversation somehow, though all she wanted to do was listen to Eirene’s beautiful voice.
“The kitchen garden,” said Eirene. Was that a tiny bit of hesitation? No, Angeline was imagining things. She was always imagining things. “It’s a great class, and we get to go outside. But Paola—Miss Rosato, don’t tell anyone I call her by her first name—she is just a really good teacher. She’s always kind and there to listen when you need someone to talk to.”
Angeline nodded again. “But I could talk to you.”
Eirene grinned even more widely. “Yes, of course you can!”
—
“Wait a moment,” said Eirene, catching hold of Angeline’s hand as she made to follow everyone else down the stairs.
Angeline turned, and she waited, even though it made her uncomfortable. Because Eirene had asked her to.
Eirene drew her forward, toward the battlements of the tower they stood in. She gestured out over the land. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes,” said Angeline. “But I’m looking at you.”
She was never so bold, except when she was alone with Eirene. Because it made Eirene laugh and pull Angeline into her arms and kiss her over and over.
Eventually, though, Eirene released Angeline and turned her again to face the battlements, looking north over the mountains. This way was the summit of their own mountain, but from here that could not be seen unless it was a clear day and you were looking straight up. “It is beautiful,” Eirene said softly, more softly than she was accustomed to speaking. “I wanted to look at it with you because you are so beautiful. I could not compare you, but I wanted to give you this.”
Angeline took Eirene’s hand in her own. “You have already given me everything.”
“No,” said Eirene, putting her arm around Angeline’s shoulders and pulling her close. “I have not given you nearly enough.”
She kissed her again, her tongue warm and wet. She pulled off her gloves, one at a time, and then pulled away Angeline’s gloves, so they were skin to skin and trembling.
She pressed her down gently to the stone floor, warmed by magic and then by their bodies.
—
“You’re getting married,” Angeline whispered. Her eyes filled with tears, but they did not fall. She did not know why all she could do was stand there and whisper and clutch her hands together. She wanted to scream, to sob, to throw things—not that she knew what she would throw. But of course, she was quiet; she was always so quiet. And no one could know why she was upset about Eirene leaving. It would ruin both of them.
“Yes,” said Eirene. She would not look at Angeline. She packed her clothes quickly, neatly, folding them into perfect squares in her trunk. “You knew I would. You knew that I always wished to marry—and Mr. Rossellini is a fine match. The best I could hope for.”
“Why must you leave me so soon?” Angeline said.
“You know why,” said Eirene. Her voice was flat, mechanical. “There is no reason for me to stay at this school. I have finished my studies. I have learned everything the teachers have to offer. I have a match. I cannot stay.” She closed her trunk and latched it, then heaved it off her bed. She was still so strong.
“Goodbye, Angeline,” said Eirene. “I will never forget you.”
Angeline just nodded, even though Eirene still would not look at her. She would not forget her, either.
Did you enjoy this story? You can see all my fiction posted at Dreamwidth!