02-11-2010, 01:05 AM
[html]
http://i49.tinypic.com/2gwyq7l.jpg); background-repeat: no-repeat; background-position: top; padding-top: 165px; text-align: justify;">
He had no Romantic visions for this new home—he had abandoned Romanticism long ago, having replaced it with a much colder and harsher view of reality. The torture of guilt that did to one, especially whom refused to acknowledge it. For so long he had been living day to day that the sudden change of thinking of the near future was very strange to him. He had not done much planning since that, and that had been so many long months ago. But now things had slowed down so dramatically; it was if someone had slammed on the breaks on the fast-track. It was a little jarring for the Russian, but he was resilient—he would get through it. He had no doubts that Sonja would as well, for this kind of life was like what she had been yearning for for so long.
She mentioned going to the city tomorrow, and he nodded—he barely had time to unravel the sometimes-foreign words before she went on to the next thing, which was much of the reason why he did not speak as often as one might in conversation. "Sono sicuro che fa," he did reply as she approached. He enveloped her small dark form in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head for a moment. He savored the moment and tested it, noticing that he felt happy for the first time in... ages.
She withdrew somewhat, and he allowed it, loosening his embrace slightly. He could almost sense the subject as it approached, as one could feel they were being followed, though it was not definitive until she said it. His reaction was impassive at first as he contemplated it. He had never really put too much thought to it before. When he had first met Sonja, she had been barely more than a child. Now, however, he realized that that was outdated and patronizing—she was a woman now, and it was fully her right to want a family. What was he to deny it? He had no strong feelings either way. "Sì. Se è che lei vuole," he said eventually with a small smile on his pale lips.
He had no Romantic visions for this new home—he had abandoned Romanticism long ago, having replaced it with a much colder and harsher view of reality. The torture of guilt that did to one, especially whom refused to acknowledge it. For so long he had been living day to day that the sudden change of thinking of the near future was very strange to him. He had not done much planning since that, and that had been so many long months ago. But now things had slowed down so dramatically; it was if someone had slammed on the breaks on the fast-track. It was a little jarring for the Russian, but he was resilient—he would get through it. He had no doubts that Sonja would as well, for this kind of life was like what she had been yearning for for so long.
She mentioned going to the city tomorrow, and he nodded—he barely had time to unravel the sometimes-foreign words before she went on to the next thing, which was much of the reason why he did not speak as often as one might in conversation. "Sono sicuro che fa," he did reply as she approached. He enveloped her small dark form in his arms, resting his chin on the top of her head for a moment. He savored the moment and tested it, noticing that he felt happy for the first time in... ages.
She withdrew somewhat, and he allowed it, loosening his embrace slightly. He could almost sense the subject as it approached, as one could feel they were being followed, though it was not definitive until she said it. His reaction was impassive at first as he contemplated it. He had never really put too much thought to it before. When he had first met Sonja, she had been barely more than a child. Now, however, he realized that that was outdated and patronizing—she was a woman now, and it was fully her right to want a family. What was he to deny it? He had no strong feelings either way. "Sì. Se è che lei vuole," he said eventually with a small smile on his pale lips.