"Rebel Angel" [4/5]
anonymous
August 23 2009, 00:41:41 UTC
Writer!Anon fails at sexytiems and life. Please forgive.
The days and weeks passed, all of them uneventful. Gilbert kept up his act for the Russian, and at the same time, allowed himself to draw closer to the Rebel Angel. She in turn opened up to him. In their rare moments alone, she told him of her past.
She had been born in Magdeburg. Her parents owned a local hotel, and she had been a waitress in the dining room of the hotel. That is, until the Nazi’s suspected them of harboring Jews, which, they weren’t. The hotel was burned to the ground, with her parents and patrons inside. A Nazi officer found her behind the building, and fought with her, giving her the scar above her eye. She was able to fend him off, and ran for her life. She ran until she came to Berlin.
Weeks later, when Aloisse finally finished telling Gilbert her history, she said it was her turn to ask him a question.
“Why me?” Was the question she chose.
The look of innocence in her blue-grey eyes would be burned in Gilbert’s mind forever.
“Why you? You’re beautiful. This is truth. But it is not why. You are feisty, yes. This is also not why I chose to save you. I chose to save you, because you remind me of myself. I can see the love for your country in your eyes, and it fills me with pride. Maybe it’s selfish, but I am saving your life. That’s what matters.” He finished quietly, looking down at his feet.
She laughed a little. “Is Prussia at a loss for words? This has to be a first.”
He took her hands in his, and looked again into her eyes.
“Call me Gilbert, please?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Okay, Gilbert.”
In the days that followed that one, the pair danced around each other, neither wanting to admit just how much they cared for the other. There were moments, seconds really, when the attraction could be mutually felt, but they never lasted. Ivan was always skulking around, lurking in dark corners and infusing entire rooms with his icy aura.
There were moments though, and Gilbert comforted himself with that fact. He thought that he would drive himself mad from waiting to be alone with his angel, just so that he could caress her jawline with his knuckles, trace her lips with a sweeping finger, knot his fingers in her silky golden strands, or simply gaze into those deep crystalline eyes.
Alloise had been in his house for well over a month before Gilbert got the chance to try anything other than a light touch. Ivan was sleeping in his room for some odd reason. Gilbert checked on him at least twice, before slipping down to the sitting room, where he knew Alloise would be, cleaning.
“My angel…” His voice was husky with anticipation.
She turned slowly, her golden hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. In one long stride, he was in front of her, taking her beautiful face in his hands just the way he had been wanting to do, since he first saw her in that riot. Hungrily, he crashed his lips to hers, and she answered back with a fevered pace. Their tongues danced heavily together, and she moaned into his mouth. Her fingers moved to his shirt buttons, and his hand slipped under her shirt, running lightly over her skin.
Gilbert pulled away abruptly when he heard a noise in the hall. With horror, he realized that he had left the door ajar slightly. Practically running, he went to the hall, and saw one of Ivan’s men coming down the stairs. He let out a sigh of relief, and went to greet the Russian. Neither he nor Aloisse had seen the violet eyes watching the whole proceedings.
The days and weeks passed, all of them uneventful. Gilbert kept up his act for the Russian, and at the same time, allowed himself to draw closer to the Rebel Angel. She in turn opened up to him. In their rare moments alone, she told him of her past.
She had been born in Magdeburg. Her parents owned a local hotel, and she had been a waitress in the dining room of the hotel. That is, until the Nazi’s suspected them of harboring Jews, which, they weren’t. The hotel was burned to the ground, with her parents and patrons inside. A Nazi officer found her behind the building, and fought with her, giving her the scar above her eye. She was able to fend him off, and ran for her life. She ran until she came to Berlin.
Weeks later, when Aloisse finally finished telling Gilbert her history, she said it was her turn to ask him a question.
“Why me?” Was the question she chose.
The look of innocence in her blue-grey eyes would be burned in Gilbert’s mind forever.
“Why you? You’re beautiful. This is truth. But it is not why. You are feisty, yes. This is also not why I chose to save you. I chose to save you, because you remind me of myself. I can see the love for your country in your eyes, and it fills me with pride. Maybe it’s selfish, but I am saving your life. That’s what matters.” He finished quietly, looking down at his feet.
She laughed a little. “Is Prussia at a loss for words? This has to be a first.”
He took her hands in his, and looked again into her eyes.
“Call me Gilbert, please?”
She smiled and nodded.
“Okay, Gilbert.”
In the days that followed that one, the pair danced around each other, neither wanting to admit just how much they cared for the other. There were moments, seconds really, when the attraction could be mutually felt, but they never lasted. Ivan was always skulking around, lurking in dark corners and infusing entire rooms with his icy aura.
There were moments though, and Gilbert comforted himself with that fact. He thought that he would drive himself mad from waiting to be alone with his angel, just so that he could caress her jawline with his knuckles, trace her lips with a sweeping finger, knot his fingers in her silky golden strands, or simply gaze into those deep crystalline eyes.
Alloise had been in his house for well over a month before Gilbert got the chance to try anything other than a light touch. Ivan was sleeping in his room for some odd reason. Gilbert checked on him at least twice, before slipping down to the sitting room, where he knew Alloise would be, cleaning.
“My angel…” His voice was husky with anticipation.
She turned slowly, her golden hair shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. In one long stride, he was in front of her, taking her beautiful face in his hands just the way he had been wanting to do, since he first saw her in that riot. Hungrily, he crashed his lips to hers, and she answered back with a fevered pace. Their tongues danced heavily together, and she moaned into his mouth. Her fingers moved to his shirt buttons, and his hand slipped under her shirt, running lightly over her skin.
Gilbert pulled away abruptly when he heard a noise in the hall. With horror, he realized that he had left the door ajar slightly. Practically running, he went to the hall, and saw one of Ivan’s men coming down the stairs. He let out a sigh of relief, and went to greet the Russian. Neither he nor Aloisse had seen the violet eyes watching the whole proceedings.
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