|Summer of My Eighteenth Year
Author: Morefindiel PM
Patty just turned eighteen. While walking through the streets of London, who should she see but Anton. Her mind's just playing tricks on her, right? Right?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Chapters: 9 - Words: 5,718 - Reviews: 24 - Favs: 15 - Follows: 18 - Updated: 02-15-11 - Published: 11-07-10 - id: 6459412
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A Midnight Visit
The return trip to London was, to say the least, uneventful. Dreadfully so. Of course, the whole voyage was spent thinking of the Reikers, and Anton, and Victor. Especially Victor.
My first night back in England wasn't any better, either. I dreamt that Victor was Anton, and that on the steps to my hotel, instead of just saying goodbye, he had proposed. The next night, I didn't even want to go to sleep, but thankfully it was dreamless. The third night, my English family went out for dinner at a friend's house. I didn't go, claiming to have a headache, when really I just didn't feel like smiling and socializing.
I read for a while before going to bed… only to be awakened by someone in my room. "Mary?" I called out, somewhat afraid that the person in the room was not one of my family. He wasn't.
A shadow moved out of the corner and into the moonlight of the window. "Anton?" Was I dreaming? The man didn't move. "Victor?"
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Patty Bergen," he sighed, "I came to leave you a note. However," he gave me a wry smile, "either I am not as good as I thought, or you are a very light sleeper." He stepped over to my bed, placing a folded note in my hand, and turned to leave.
"No," I called, and my other hand shot out to grab his. He turned back to me, an inquisitive expression on his face. I blushed. "Will– Will you stay? At least until I fall asleep?" My cheeks reddened even more. He looked at me incredulously. I couldn't meet his gaze. Mumbling, I explained, "I figure that as long as I'm dreaming, I should at least enjoy it." His expression turned to one of mild humor, but he complied, sitting on the edge of my bed and soothingly stroking my hair as I drifted off.
"Good night, Patty Bergen."
A/N: Okay, here is a super-short chapter for you. I wasn't going to post it until it was longer, but I need to tell you all something. In case you haven't looked at my profile, I must tell you that the schoolwork is piling up, and so I will not be writing for another three months or so.
Hopefully my inspiration for this story won't die out by then. Ha.
Anyway, sorry guys. See you in a few.
Summer of My German Soldier belongs to Bette Greene.