Por si éramos pocos by Belenuski - Prologue
Title: Por si éramos pocos by Belenuski
Rating: G
NB: Okay guys...so, this story here is being written by an amazingly talented writer, Belenuski, at the pepsi foro/CoM. I've been following the story since it was started back in September, and I fell so much in love with it that I asked the author permission to translate it into English for the non-Spanish speakers. She okay'ed the idea (yay!), so I'll be steadily translating and posting new chapters here.
Now, bear with me...this is going to be a huge undertaking - I copied all of what's been written to date into a Word document and, uhm, it's currently at 287 pages! But, I think it's a great, great story, and I hope you all read, enjoy, and leave comments for Belenuski (which I can translate and get back to her if need be), and I just really hope my translation does the story justice.
Por si éramos pocos by Belenuski
1. Prologue
A small boy with brown hair and dark eyes was running in his nice jeans and plaid shirt. He had his hair styled with gel despite his young age which wasn’t more than three years old.
“Eh, little demon!” Exclaimed a tall brunette with hazel eyes as she grabbed the boy from behind and raised him high up in the air making the boy laugh. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep running so much.”
It was a beautiful spring day, sunny, with a cool breeze.
“The ba’cony goes to the sun!” The boy yelled while pointing out at the sea. At the Balcón de Europa in Nerja, Málaga, the sea appeared to be painted in currents of different colored blues, some lighter, others darker. The boy, still in the woman’s arms, pointed out one of the ships that passed between his view and the sun.
The brunette looked at the sea nostalgically and noticed, bit by bit, that the yellow light and the blue of the sea began to mix due to the tears clouding her vision. She wiped the tears away so the boy wouldn’t see them and also because she heard the clack of heels behind her, knowing she would soon have to turn around and not show any hint of sadness. She had promised, however difficult it might be.
“Pepa, I want you to take a picture of the kids and me,” she heard. At this, she finally did turn her head around and froze, staring in amazement at the beauty before her.
The woman to her back was shorter than her and looked gorgeous, breathtaking. Her white wedding gown accentuated her curves and that red hair, loose and gently blowing in the winds that traveled through that southern city, made her look more natural, happier.
At her side, there was a little girl of 7 years who couldn’t possibly be any prettier. She had two pigtails, tanned skin, and her eyes, the same blue as the clear sky that afternoon, looked at both women with concern.
“I don’t want to be a part of this, Silvia,” the brunette said while lowering the boy to the floor. The boy then took off running to the redhead’s side, tugged a few times on her dress, and threw his arms up in supplication. Silvia picked him up.
“Whatever you say...but your attitude is not going to change anything. If anything, it’ll just make things worse.”
Pepa exhaled loudly and shook her head. Silvia mirrored Pepa’s actions and turned around, ready to leave. The brunette pressed her lips together tightly, holding back her cry and then felt a touch on her arm.
“Mamá...” murmured the girl who had been standing by Silvia’s side until that moment. “I want you to take a picture of us together.”
Pepa forced a smile onto her face and crouched down until she was at the same height as her daughter. She kissed her on the forehead and caressed her hair.
“Okay, princess, but not right now. Mamá doesn’t feel up to taking pictures now.”
The little girl nodded in sad assent and gave her mother a big hug. She pulled away quickly when she heard Silvia call her and gave Pepa a little smile before returning to Silvia’s side. Pepa turned back around, leaned on the railing of the balcony that extended out to the sea, and cried. She cried with such sadness that she felt overwhelmed by the force of her own weeping.
But this story doesn’t start here. It goes back to one Christmas, eight years ago. That’s when everything began - a new life that had been put into motion. A new life that both women were willing to risk living and that would change their whole world and their way of viewing things.
The women walked hand-in-hand down the streets of Madrid that 24th of December at around 6 in the evening. During that time of the year nighttime arrives much earlier, so all the city lights had already been turned on. Madrid looked beautiful. Pepa, wearing a white woolen toque that stood out against her long, dark hair, a black jacket, a black dress and boots, and tights the same color as her hat, was carrying several bags in her left hand, the same hand that bore her wedding ring.
“Look, Pepa!” Silvia exclaimed, letting go of the other woman’s hand and running to a store display window. She pointed at a man’s formal suit.
The redhead had her hair loose and wore a red dress that could barely be seen under her grayish overcoat. Her legs were bare despite the cold and she had on black shoes with big heels that still didn’t make her as tall as her partner. Both women were very dressed-up for just going shopping.
“It’s nice, sweetheart, but your sister is going to kill us...”
“Come on, come on, it’s only 7 o’clock.”
“Exactly. Dinner is in two hours and we need to help out, don’t you think?”
“We’re already helping - we’re buying the gifts. And, anyway, if we get there late, I’ll just blame it all on you.” Pepa opened her mouth as much as she could while smiling. “You’re the one who never wanted to come shopping with me.”
“Harsh, pelirroja, harsh. Well, just so you know...you won’t be getting any gifts.”
Pepa turned around, feigning anger, and Silvia embraced her from behind.
“Right. You’re going to tell me that my gift hasn’t already been bought and wrapped...”
The brunette stuck out her tongue making Silvia laugh and smack her on the ass to get her to keep walking. They had already bought enough gifts and it would be better for them to finally arrive at the Christmas Eve dinner at Los Cachis, but Silvia kept stopping to look at various windows, making her companion antsy. Though, Pepa, who now had one arm around the redhead’s shoulders, while the redhead had her own arm around Pepa’s waist, couldn’t resist being stopped in front of a toy shop.
“I always bought gifts for Sara in this shop,” the redhead commented. “I doubt she’d want anything from here now.”
Pepa smiled and looked at her wife with tenderness and concern at the same time. She knew that this was Silvia’s favorite time of the year but that La Noche De Reyes was always a little hard for her. After all, her child would have been three years old now and would be going to sleep the night of January 6th full of excitement to wake up and see all the gifts the next morning. And, if that wasn’t enough, the whole subject of children hadn’t exactly been a good one for the two women since their relationship began...in fact, they broke up for the first time over it. Since then, the subject hadn’t been raised, and it had especially been avoided after their fateful wedding day. Pepa had almost lost the most precious thing in her life and the only thought that passed through her head, six months after, was to enjoy everything she could about her wife in their newlywed life. When leaving the hospital, after being at the edge of death, Silvia appeared to want to return to a happy life, and Pepa was going to do whatever she could increase that happiness. And, the two woman were happy, clearly. Pepa couldn’t want for anything more. But, she recognized Silvia’s maternal drive and her sadness at knowing she couldn’t have children. Her redhead was happy...but she could be even happier. If only it wasn’t so difficult...
“Well, something tells me it won’t be long before we have another baby in the family,” Silvia said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I imagine Sara will want to be a mother soon. She has it in her genes.”
“Hey, she has more Miranda in her blood than Castro.”
“And what would you know?”
“She’s not as domineering or stubborn as you or your father.”
Silvia pushed Pepa with her hip.
“No, no...you’ll see,” Silvia assured. “I had a dream about a birth, and I’m certain Sara was the protagonist.”
“I had a dream, I had a dream...” the brunette repeated. “Well, I dreamt that my father-in-law gave us a good lashing for arriving so late...so, let’s get a move on.”
Links to the original story written in Spanish:
http://pepaysilvia.mforos.com/1469855/8481210-por-si-eramos-pocos-01-11-09-23-40/
http://pepaysilvia.mforos.com/1469855/8680673-por-si-eramos-pocos-ii-28-11-09-21-35/
Rating: G
NB: Okay guys...so, this story here is being written by an amazingly talented writer, Belenuski, at the pepsi foro/CoM. I've been following the story since it was started back in September, and I fell so much in love with it that I asked the author permission to translate it into English for the non-Spanish speakers. She okay'ed the idea (yay!), so I'll be steadily translating and posting new chapters here.
Now, bear with me...this is going to be a huge undertaking - I copied all of what's been written to date into a Word document and, uhm, it's currently at 287 pages! But, I think it's a great, great story, and I hope you all read, enjoy, and leave comments for Belenuski (which I can translate and get back to her if need be), and I just really hope my translation does the story justice.
Por si éramos pocos by Belenuski
1. Prologue
A small boy with brown hair and dark eyes was running in his nice jeans and plaid shirt. He had his hair styled with gel despite his young age which wasn’t more than three years old.
“Eh, little demon!” Exclaimed a tall brunette with hazel eyes as she grabbed the boy from behind and raised him high up in the air making the boy laugh. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep running so much.”
It was a beautiful spring day, sunny, with a cool breeze.
“The ba’cony goes to the sun!” The boy yelled while pointing out at the sea. At the Balcón de Europa in Nerja, Málaga, the sea appeared to be painted in currents of different colored blues, some lighter, others darker. The boy, still in the woman’s arms, pointed out one of the ships that passed between his view and the sun.
The brunette looked at the sea nostalgically and noticed, bit by bit, that the yellow light and the blue of the sea began to mix due to the tears clouding her vision. She wiped the tears away so the boy wouldn’t see them and also because she heard the clack of heels behind her, knowing she would soon have to turn around and not show any hint of sadness. She had promised, however difficult it might be.
“Pepa, I want you to take a picture of the kids and me,” she heard. At this, she finally did turn her head around and froze, staring in amazement at the beauty before her.
The woman to her back was shorter than her and looked gorgeous, breathtaking. Her white wedding gown accentuated her curves and that red hair, loose and gently blowing in the winds that traveled through that southern city, made her look more natural, happier.
At her side, there was a little girl of 7 years who couldn’t possibly be any prettier. She had two pigtails, tanned skin, and her eyes, the same blue as the clear sky that afternoon, looked at both women with concern.
“I don’t want to be a part of this, Silvia,” the brunette said while lowering the boy to the floor. The boy then took off running to the redhead’s side, tugged a few times on her dress, and threw his arms up in supplication. Silvia picked him up.
“Whatever you say...but your attitude is not going to change anything. If anything, it’ll just make things worse.”
Pepa exhaled loudly and shook her head. Silvia mirrored Pepa’s actions and turned around, ready to leave. The brunette pressed her lips together tightly, holding back her cry and then felt a touch on her arm.
“Mamá...” murmured the girl who had been standing by Silvia’s side until that moment. “I want you to take a picture of us together.”
Pepa forced a smile onto her face and crouched down until she was at the same height as her daughter. She kissed her on the forehead and caressed her hair.
“Okay, princess, but not right now. Mamá doesn’t feel up to taking pictures now.”
The little girl nodded in sad assent and gave her mother a big hug. She pulled away quickly when she heard Silvia call her and gave Pepa a little smile before returning to Silvia’s side. Pepa turned back around, leaned on the railing of the balcony that extended out to the sea, and cried. She cried with such sadness that she felt overwhelmed by the force of her own weeping.
But this story doesn’t start here. It goes back to one Christmas, eight years ago. That’s when everything began - a new life that had been put into motion. A new life that both women were willing to risk living and that would change their whole world and their way of viewing things.
The women walked hand-in-hand down the streets of Madrid that 24th of December at around 6 in the evening. During that time of the year nighttime arrives much earlier, so all the city lights had already been turned on. Madrid looked beautiful. Pepa, wearing a white woolen toque that stood out against her long, dark hair, a black jacket, a black dress and boots, and tights the same color as her hat, was carrying several bags in her left hand, the same hand that bore her wedding ring.
“Look, Pepa!” Silvia exclaimed, letting go of the other woman’s hand and running to a store display window. She pointed at a man’s formal suit.
The redhead had her hair loose and wore a red dress that could barely be seen under her grayish overcoat. Her legs were bare despite the cold and she had on black shoes with big heels that still didn’t make her as tall as her partner. Both women were very dressed-up for just going shopping.
“It’s nice, sweetheart, but your sister is going to kill us...”
“Come on, come on, it’s only 7 o’clock.”
“Exactly. Dinner is in two hours and we need to help out, don’t you think?”
“We’re already helping - we’re buying the gifts. And, anyway, if we get there late, I’ll just blame it all on you.” Pepa opened her mouth as much as she could while smiling. “You’re the one who never wanted to come shopping with me.”
“Harsh, pelirroja, harsh. Well, just so you know...you won’t be getting any gifts.”
Pepa turned around, feigning anger, and Silvia embraced her from behind.
“Right. You’re going to tell me that my gift hasn’t already been bought and wrapped...”
The brunette stuck out her tongue making Silvia laugh and smack her on the ass to get her to keep walking. They had already bought enough gifts and it would be better for them to finally arrive at the Christmas Eve dinner at Los Cachis, but Silvia kept stopping to look at various windows, making her companion antsy. Though, Pepa, who now had one arm around the redhead’s shoulders, while the redhead had her own arm around Pepa’s waist, couldn’t resist being stopped in front of a toy shop.
“I always bought gifts for Sara in this shop,” the redhead commented. “I doubt she’d want anything from here now.”
Pepa smiled and looked at her wife with tenderness and concern at the same time. She knew that this was Silvia’s favorite time of the year but that La Noche De Reyes was always a little hard for her. After all, her child would have been three years old now and would be going to sleep the night of January 6th full of excitement to wake up and see all the gifts the next morning. And, if that wasn’t enough, the whole subject of children hadn’t exactly been a good one for the two women since their relationship began...in fact, they broke up for the first time over it. Since then, the subject hadn’t been raised, and it had especially been avoided after their fateful wedding day. Pepa had almost lost the most precious thing in her life and the only thought that passed through her head, six months after, was to enjoy everything she could about her wife in their newlywed life. When leaving the hospital, after being at the edge of death, Silvia appeared to want to return to a happy life, and Pepa was going to do whatever she could increase that happiness. And, the two woman were happy, clearly. Pepa couldn’t want for anything more. But, she recognized Silvia’s maternal drive and her sadness at knowing she couldn’t have children. Her redhead was happy...but she could be even happier. If only it wasn’t so difficult...
“Well, something tells me it won’t be long before we have another baby in the family,” Silvia said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“I imagine Sara will want to be a mother soon. She has it in her genes.”
“Hey, she has more Miranda in her blood than Castro.”
“And what would you know?”
“She’s not as domineering or stubborn as you or your father.”
Silvia pushed Pepa with her hip.
“No, no...you’ll see,” Silvia assured. “I had a dream about a birth, and I’m certain Sara was the protagonist.”
“I had a dream, I had a dream...” the brunette repeated. “Well, I dreamt that my father-in-law gave us a good lashing for arriving so late...so, let’s get a move on.”
Links to the original story written in Spanish:
http://pepaysilvia.mforos.com/1469855/8481210-por-si-eramos-pocos-01-11-09-23-40/
http://pepaysilvia.mforos.com/1469855/8680673-por-si-eramos-pocos-ii-28-11-09-21-35/