What if I told you the bombs never hit Himmel Street?

A story carrying on as if it never happened. LieselxRudy

DISCLAIMER: I do not own "The Book Thief" or any of the characters, just this fanfiction. All rights belong to its author Markus Zusak.

Feedbacks, constructive criticism, requests, ideas, and suggestions - pm me. This is my first fanfiction writing. So thank you for reading. I hope you like it!


The woman has knocked at number thirty-three and waits for a reply.

It was strange for Liesel to see her without the bathrobe. The summer dress was yellow with red trim. There was a pocket with a small flower on it. No swastikas. Black shoes. Never before had she noticed Ilsa Hermanns shins. She had porcelain legs.

"Frau Hermann, I'm sorry for what I did the last time in the library."

The woman quieted her. She reached into her bag and pulled out a small black book. Inside was not a story, but lined paper. "I thought if you're not going to read any more of my books, you might like to write one instead. Your letter, it was . . ." She handed the book to Liesel with both hands."You can certainly write. You write well." The book was heavy, the cover matted like The Shoulder Shrug."And please," Ilsa Hermann advised her, "don't punish yourself, like you said you would. Dont be like me, Liesel."

The girl opened the book and touched the paper. "Danke schn, Frau Hermann. I can make you some coffee, if you like. Would you come in? Im home alone. My moms next door, with Frau Holtzapfel."

"Shall we use the door or the window?"

Liesel suspected it was the broadest smile Ilsa Hermann had allowed herself in years. "I think we'll use the door. Its easier."

They sat in the kitchen.

Coffee mugs and bread with jam. They struggled to speak and Liesel could hear Ilsa Hermann swallow, but somehow, it was not uncomfortable. It was even nice to see the woman gently blow across the coffee to cool it.

"If I ever write something and finish it," Liesel said, "I'll show you."

"That would be nice."

When the mayors wife left, Liesel watched her walk up Himmel Street. She watched her yellow dress and her black shoes and her porcelain legs.

At the mailbox, Rudy asked, "Was that who I think it was?"

"Yes."

"You're joking."

"She gave me a present."

"What?"

"A book. With no words," she paused, "So I can write."

"Oh great," Rudy chuckles, "You'll be spending all your time writing that you won't have any time for me."

Liesel felt odd all of a sudden. She remembered only a few days earlier by the pinecones and broken branches towards Dachau that she had shared one of the pages in her book with him, one with a drawing of a boy with three medals hanging around his throat, her drawing of him. She also remembered the sudden urge of wanting him to kiss desire to feel his lips on her mouth, neck, check…

"Well, saumensch."

"I'm going to write."

"saukerl."

"Ok. Have fun writing about me."

It was hard to ignore the strange feeling in her stomach. She was not hungry, she thought, she had just eaten with Frau Hermann mere minutes ago. What was wrong with her? Although, deep down Liesel knew he was responsible, but she so new to these feelings, and truthfully she was scared to acknowledge them.


Instead of writing, Liesel lay her back on her bed. She tilted her face towards the empty bed beside hers and she briefly thought of her brother, Werner. Then Max. The depression of thoughts sailed aways to her memory of her nine year old self first arriving to the Hubermann household. Oh, how she clung onto the gate for dear life as Rosa Hubermann fought to bring her inside. The scene attracted stares from neighbours standing at a distance.What are you assholes looking at?And they stepped back more as if expecting the woman to pounce on them. This could not be her new mama, Liesel thought then. She wanted more than anything to jump back in the car and ride back to her real mama. If it weren't for Hans, papa, she would have found any way to have done so.

Now fourteen, Liesels had some time to grief for the lost of her brother and the life she could have shared with him. Her weariness continued for Max, and her heart ache to not know where he was, or what was happening to him and the other jews she had seen him with. Still hope flowed through her veins. And worrying certainly wouldn't change anything. Her thoughts moved on to her new family, papa who bought words and music into her life, and mama, who she slowly grown to love, even with her vulgar language.

Finally, her thoughts rested on Rudy, the boy with hair the colour of lemons, the teddy-bear giver, the bread-feeder, the crazy one who jumped into the Amper River to retrieve The Word Shaker, her partner in crime, her secret keeper, her first friend, her best friend. And now she didn't know what she thought of him. How could she want to kiss him every time he so much smiles, or looks her way? There was an empty space inside of her that longed for him, in a way that was so much more than friendship.

She must have been thinking of him so much to end up dreaming about him. Rudy and her were standing side by side on the bridge over Amper River. How about a kiss saumensch? Her heart began to stammer in a blink of an eye. Why am I feeling like this? He'd ask that question a million times before. Maybe it's because she loved him. All Liesel knew was that she wanted him to kiss her, soft and true on the lips. Should I go for it? It was a win-win. Rudy would get the kiss he'd asked so long for, and she would fulfill that same desire too. She wanted to go for it. Until Mizzi, a girl from her homeroom popped up out of nowhere, the girl she heard boys talk about as they walked past Liesel oblivious to her presence. Shall we go? Rudy turned his attention away from Liesel. Ja. See you Liesel. Hand in hand they left, leaving a heart-broken girl behind.

Liesel shot up. Nein! No. She looked around and realised it was just a silly dream. Vengeance was her first thought, she now hated Mizzi who she never thought of neither having the day or a care in the word to spare a thought on her. But now she hated her. For stealing Rudy. Her Rudy. Even though it was just a dream. It was not allowed. Nobody was allowed to take Rudy from her. He was hers. And at that moment Liesel knew she loved the boy with hair the colour of lemons. She was also convinced herself that the dream was telling her something. If she chose to do nothing and wait for her new found feelings for Rudy blow off -if it would, then maybe a girl like Mizzi or Mizzi herself would take Rudy from her. Mizzi, that saumensch, Liesel thought bitterly. Or… she could act of her feelings.

Now was she to do that? Rudy was her best friend. How could she make him more than a friend? What would Mizzi do? She gets all the boys right, well, except Rudy. Thank goodness. I can't risk losing him to her. She vowed herself, I'm going to be like Mizzi - only until I get Rudy though. But how could she get him? Does he even like her in that way? Liesel knew the answer. Rudy always put himself out there to get her attention and asking for a kiss... A kiss! That's it. Maybe if she gave Rudy the best kiss ever given in the world he would like her!


THE TRUTH

The reason why Rudy stopped asking for a kiss was Liesel's refusals hurt too much. In truth, I think he was afraid. Rudy Steiner was scared of the book thief's kiss. He must have longed for it so much. He must have loved her so incredibly hard. So hard that he would never ask for her lips again and would go to his grave without them.