Maybe
Author's comments: this is my first fanfic ever, so please don't be so
horrified when you spot any mistakes or anything. I know I am not so exact
with what happened on the series, but the worst you can find is something
related to the vocabulary. You know, I am from South America, so apologies
to everyone if I make a mistake. I may be creating any new characters, if
the story continues, but the other you'll recognise from the series. Any
reference to literature is probably invented as well (Chekhov's book), I am
15 years old! Oh, I forgot, read and review to my email:
bolsoelmejor@yahoo.com.
Love to all, Andrea.
Chapter 1.- Feelings.
Maybe it hadn't been what she expected. Anyway, she didn't see it as an end, she thought of it as a postponement. She knew there was so much that hadn't been said, only a couple of words and a few looks were what encouraged her in that feeling.
"It was a burning pain in my heart." Yes, she was hurt, but if someone could look at her, he would think she didn't give that impression. Grace would just be the same girl, with the same lonely eyes, although no one seemed to notice, or even care. Their story, if it could be considered as one, remains a secret, locked in Grace's soul, trapped in August's mind.
What gave Grace strength, during all those nights in which she couldn't think about anything else than this eyes, his beautiful blue colored eyes, was the Chekhov book. "For the girl with the loneliest eyes. Love, August." How could he have seen her so well? How could he notice her in such a way no one ever did before? It was as if whenever he looked at her, he trespassed her body and went directly to her feelings, to her soul, her thoughts, her hopes, her questions, even frustrations, everything he could sense.
Eventually, Grace became a Chekkov fan, it was as if someone had awakened in herself, though some things kept hidden. There was one time, in which she was looking for a collection of stories, another one, when she found herself in this little, old and mysterious book shop, where they sold used books. Grace went directly to the "Russian Literature" shelf. There she found a little book, with some unreleased short stories from Chekhov. It was called "The Unspoken", she couldn't resist opening it. When she did, she just stood there frozen. It's so funny how just a couple of words can have such an effect on someone. There, written in black pen, his black pen, in simple handwriting, read, "Everything means something....Remember it, fair Grace. A.D."
For the next few minutes she couldn't move. She must have read that inscription like a thousand times. He was right, and Grace had to remember that night. That night in which so little was said, so much was shown. That night in which she felt free, liberated from whatever had kept her tightened up before. It was the night after Mr. Dimitri was suspended. Grace felt a hole in her heart; that's why she had to go to his house, she couldn't stay that way. She invented some excuse for leaving the house for her mother, who agreed to believe it, although being perfectly aware that her daughter was probably meeting him. "Her eyes...have they always been that lonely?" Lily kept repeating to herself.
Before parking the car, she saw his parked on the other side of the street. The lights on, his kitchen, her heart beating fast, but she didn't know what to do. Suddenly a feeling of shame came over her. What gave her the right to do that to him? He had always trusted her. He now wanted to go on with his life, pursue new goals, maybe start writing again. She couldn't do that to him.
Grace was about to start the car, when she saw the front door open. August Dimitri came out. Hair just lying without being brushed, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt under a black jacket. A worried look on his face, a look of uncertainty. His eyes....they were looking everywhere.
"Grace?" was all he could mumble, his throat cleared now.
"Grace, is that you?", now in a louder, but anxious voice.
She was in the dark, hidden in her car, not being able to believe that was happening. There was nothing to do to stop it, she had gone too far to abandon it. Closing here eyes for a second, she repeated to herself that everything was going to go fine. With a nervous attempt, she managed to open the door. Slowly moving, she got out from the car, looked at the floor and finally looked up to his eyes, to him. He then noticed her. Their gaze broke the teacher-student tension. It was their moment now.
Love to all, Andrea.
Chapter 1.- Feelings.
Maybe it hadn't been what she expected. Anyway, she didn't see it as an end, she thought of it as a postponement. She knew there was so much that hadn't been said, only a couple of words and a few looks were what encouraged her in that feeling.
"It was a burning pain in my heart." Yes, she was hurt, but if someone could look at her, he would think she didn't give that impression. Grace would just be the same girl, with the same lonely eyes, although no one seemed to notice, or even care. Their story, if it could be considered as one, remains a secret, locked in Grace's soul, trapped in August's mind.
What gave Grace strength, during all those nights in which she couldn't think about anything else than this eyes, his beautiful blue colored eyes, was the Chekhov book. "For the girl with the loneliest eyes. Love, August." How could he have seen her so well? How could he notice her in such a way no one ever did before? It was as if whenever he looked at her, he trespassed her body and went directly to her feelings, to her soul, her thoughts, her hopes, her questions, even frustrations, everything he could sense.
Eventually, Grace became a Chekkov fan, it was as if someone had awakened in herself, though some things kept hidden. There was one time, in which she was looking for a collection of stories, another one, when she found herself in this little, old and mysterious book shop, where they sold used books. Grace went directly to the "Russian Literature" shelf. There she found a little book, with some unreleased short stories from Chekhov. It was called "The Unspoken", she couldn't resist opening it. When she did, she just stood there frozen. It's so funny how just a couple of words can have such an effect on someone. There, written in black pen, his black pen, in simple handwriting, read, "Everything means something....Remember it, fair Grace. A.D."
For the next few minutes she couldn't move. She must have read that inscription like a thousand times. He was right, and Grace had to remember that night. That night in which so little was said, so much was shown. That night in which she felt free, liberated from whatever had kept her tightened up before. It was the night after Mr. Dimitri was suspended. Grace felt a hole in her heart; that's why she had to go to his house, she couldn't stay that way. She invented some excuse for leaving the house for her mother, who agreed to believe it, although being perfectly aware that her daughter was probably meeting him. "Her eyes...have they always been that lonely?" Lily kept repeating to herself.
Before parking the car, she saw his parked on the other side of the street. The lights on, his kitchen, her heart beating fast, but she didn't know what to do. Suddenly a feeling of shame came over her. What gave her the right to do that to him? He had always trusted her. He now wanted to go on with his life, pursue new goals, maybe start writing again. She couldn't do that to him.
Grace was about to start the car, when she saw the front door open. August Dimitri came out. Hair just lying without being brushed, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt under a black jacket. A worried look on his face, a look of uncertainty. His eyes....they were looking everywhere.
"Grace?" was all he could mumble, his throat cleared now.
"Grace, is that you?", now in a louder, but anxious voice.
She was in the dark, hidden in her car, not being able to believe that was happening. There was nothing to do to stop it, she had gone too far to abandon it. Closing here eyes for a second, she repeated to herself that everything was going to go fine. With a nervous attempt, she managed to open the door. Slowly moving, she got out from the car, looked at the floor and finally looked up to his eyes, to him. He then noticed her. Their gaze broke the teacher-student tension. It was their moment now.