At first, I wasn't going to make this. In no way does this produce any closure. It only expands as to how our two sweethearts should've ended up together, and how the universe doesn't oblige to what should've happened.
Word count; 4,030
Novo
Three vases had been placed on the table, each different in size and material. I filled each with water, as instructed to, a quarter full. A gust of wind from outside forced the French doors of the tearoom to blast open and I sprinted over, grabbing a chair from the table to fix beneath the door handles.
"You have made a mess of yourself,"
I glanced over my shoulder, smiling, "I have?"
His eyes dropped to my torso and I followed them, realising the snow had caught onto my shirt like dust mites in an abandoned home.
"Oh, I have,"
"Emilia's downstairs," Uncle Wayne said. "Get yourself cleaned up before she finds you and has a heart attack."
I obliged, hurrying past him and skipping up the stairwell two at a time, already hearing her footsteps grow nearer, but stopping before reaching my door. I rarely visited my room in winter, the top floor too frostbitten to do anything in, and yet a slice of air divided my door from its frame, contrary to what Uncle Wayne had ordered. Delicately, I pushed the door open with my knuckle, gladdened by the reality inside.
"What are you doing, Marie?"
She was kneeling on my desk and scattered at the sound of my voice, nearly tripping over my chair in doing so. I prompted forward, a rush implanted in my veins at the thought of her hurting something.
"Jesus, Marie, be careful," I scolded.
"Forgive me, Novo, I'm sorry, I was just..."
"Yes?"
"I found this," She unfolded a piece of paper which had been sitting on the desk. "It had the same names as the ones on your mirror."
"And?"
She dropped her arms in defeat.
"You know you're not supposed to be up here. You'll catch a cold."
"I know..."
"And then your mother and father will blame me."
"I know..."
I sighed, rubbing her blonde fringe into her face as I stepped past, "It's all right."
I picked a new shirt from my cupboard - a long sleeve brown button down - and threw it over my shoulder, turning to see Marie in the same place.
"Okay, let me see it."
A glimmer filled her eyes as she passed over the paper. There were about twenty people on it, all gathered around someone in the centre - a woman whose hair fell to her knees.
"Look on the back." Marie pointed a finger.
On the other side, at the bottom of the page, spanned names in cursive writing, with the date in the top right hand corner.
"I can't read them very well. Or what it says under the date."
I squinted at it, the line even smaller than the rest, "Sich ausgehen,"
She chuckled awkwardly, "I don't know what that means."
"Uh," I bit my inner cheek. "More like, to be possible or to be sufficient."
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𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞; eugene roe ✔
Historical Fiction𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 "Don't make this harder than it already is." For years, Valentina worked as a member of the Resistance in Austria. She can't remember life before the war. That is, until she meets an American soldier, and the memories become...
