I had totally planned on having this chapter out earlier this week, but I've been running around, trying to find stuff for my little sisters Romano cosplay for a convention we're going to next weekend... Do you know how hard it is to find a fake mustache this time of year? -_-
I hope you're prepared for another long chapter. It's a very descriptive chapter, so there isn't a whole lot of dialogue. There's also a fair bit of history in it as well, so I hope it doesn't bore you to tears. Translations are at the bottom. Enjoy~!
Disclaimer Time:
I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters mentioned. I wish I did though... *winkwink*
"Spatzi, we're here," I heard Gilbert whisper in my ear. I opened my eyes and saw that we were at the hotel. The neon sign above the hotel doors illuminated everything. I smiled at it because I knew that in a few minutes I'd be in a comfortable bed and could sleep for the next two days if I wanted to. I grabbed my purse, opened the door and stepped out into the light misty rain that was falling. I stretched as I looked around. The streets weren't that busy, but there were a lot of people walking. They were nothing but a sea of umbrellas and hoods. While Gilbert was helping the taxi driver with our luggage, I turned towards the hotel to see a bellhop was walking out with a luggage trolley thing. Once they were done, I paid the driver and made my way into the hotel to check in. Ten minutes later, Gilbert and I were walking into our junior suite. Everything was either red or cream colored. The huge bed looked so inviting, with it's over-stuffed down comforter and massive pillows that looked as though they would swallow your head completely. It made me want to run over and jump headfirst onto it.
As soon as the bellhop was tipped and out of the room, I walked over to the bed and fell face first into the middle of it. The bed felt as though I were laying on the fluffiest cloud in the history of clouds. I could lay here forever, but I had just been on a plane for the last eleven and a half hours and I needed to get out of these clothes and shoes. I groaned mentally at the thought of getting up. I turned my head to the side and saw Gilbert looking out the window.
"How's the view?" I mumbled.
"Dark and rainy," he chuckled, turning to smile at me.
I grinned back. "Hey, you know what?"
"Hm?" he answered, turning back to the rain soaked scenery.
"You're home," I said softly.
Gilbert took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He was so close to the window that it fogged up when he exhaled. "I am," he said in a tone that oozed contentment.
After about five minutes of contemplating sleeping fully dressed, I finally decided to get up and change. While digging through my suitcase in search of my lavender colored silk camisole and shorts set, I heard Gilbert plop down on the couch and turn the TV on. He was still channel surfing when I walked into the bathroom. Well, it wasn't the biggest bathroom I'd ever seen. But it wasn't the smallest either. Thankfully, it had a decent sized mirror and two sinks. I didn't want to fight over either every morning. Why did I have to fall in love with the vainest, most narcissistic man ever?
With my face washed, teeth brushed and hair put up into a ponytail, I quickly changed. I couldn't wait to lay back down. I didn't even bother to pick my clothes up. They could just stay there until I had the energy to take care of them. As soon as I got to the cloud disguised as a bed, I jumped headfirst into the pillows. Good Lord, they were just as soft as they looked. I definitely picked an awesome hotel. I laid there for a few minutes before rolling onto my side.
"My God, babe," I mumbled sleepily. "I wanna take this bed home."
Gilbert chuckled slightly. "There's nothing wrong with our bed back home."
"Yeah, that's what I thought too." I closed my eyes and listened to whatever Gilbert was watching on TV. It sounded like a local newscast. As I listened to the news anchor, I was thankful that Gilbert decided to make me take a refresher course for the language. For over half of the plane ride, we spoke only German to each other and Gilbert corrected me on certain things and constantly reminded me that I didn't have to be so formal. Now, as I lay here, I had no problem understanding or keeping up with the anchor. Proud of myself, I started dozing off during the weather report. Next thing I know, Gilbert is pulling the comforter up over me.
"What time is it?" I asked, not even half awake.
"A little after eleven," he said quietly.
"Shit, I need to let Mutti we got here alright," I said trying to sit up, but Gilbert gently pushed me back into the pillows.
"I already did."
"Really? Thanks babe. You're so awesome," was all I managed to get out before starting to doze off again.
"Gute nacht, spatzi."
I woke unusually alert the next morning. It felt as though I couldn't sleep another minute, even if I wanted to. I slowly sat up and looked the room over. The digital clock by the TV said it was almost noon. Well no wonder I was so alert. I had just slept for over twelve hours. Stupid jet-lag. Trying not to wake Gilbert, I slipped out of bed and stealthily crept towards the bathroom to take a shower. After drying off, I wrapped a towel around myself and walked out of the bathroom, where I was greeted by sunshine and the glorious smell of food and coffee. I looked over at the bed to see Gilbert sitting in the middle of it with my laptop. He looked up and grinned widely.
"Hey babe," he said, closing the laptop.
"I didn't wake you up, did I?" I asked, walking over to the table and lifted one of the metal lids. Eggs, bacon, and wurst. I lifted another lid to reveal a dozen golden brown biscuits. They looked so flipping good.
"No, my stomach did," he laughed as he walked over to me. Gilbert wrapped his arms around my waist and kissed my forehead. "You snored last night, by the way."
I chuckled as I kissed the tip of his nose. Then I pulled away from him and sat down at the table. "I was dead-ass tired. I always snore when I'm that tired."
"I've never heard you snore that loud before, spatzi," he said as he sat down opposite of me.
"Then I'm blaming it on the jet-lag," I mumbled as I poured myself a cup of steaming hot coffee.
"I was surprised when I woke up and you were already awake. I figured you'd be in bed all day," Gilbert remarked before shoving an entire biscuit into his mouth.
"Ehh," I shrugged. "I feel fine."
"Awesome," he said through a mouth full of biscuit. "What do you wanna do today?"
"I don't know," I said slowly, making my thinking face. "How about we just wander around the city? Maybe see what's around here."
"Sounds good," he nodded.
An hour and a half later, we were walking out of the hotel. The weather was amazing. It was mild, the sun was shining, and there was a slight breeze. Our first stop was a bakery. While I was talking to the owner about different types of traditional German pastries, I mentioned one recipe that I had from my Grammy Ilsa. The owner was amazed I had it because it was a hard to find recipe. When I told him that my grandparents were Otto and Ilsa von Winterstein, it finally dawned on him. My grandfather owned a bakery here in Berlin for about 40 years before he sold it and it was famous for their cranberry-blueberry muffins. I glanced over at Gilbert and he looked totally and utterly confused. Probably because we were talking about baking and Gilbert knows next to nothing about baking and I had never told him I was a von Winterstein. Apparently, back in it's heyday, Winterstein's Bakery was a pretty hopping place. Anyway, after buying a half a dozen pastries, we headed across the street to a supermarket. When I was younger and would come for the summer, I always loved going to the supermarket with Grammy Ilsa. It amazes me how similar German and American markets are. But, at the same time, how different they are. We decided to send Ludwig a care package. Kind of a 'sorry you couldn't come package', if you will. We bought all his favorite things, like different jams and snacks that you can't find in the States. We even managed to find a UPS store while were out and sent the package off before we could forget about it.
While eating a lunch of currywurst and French fries, I started feeling like crap. Almost as if I were coming down with a cold or something. Figures. I always get sick when I travel. We headed back to the hotel after lunch. But not before we could stop at a pharmacy for some cold medicine and orange juice. I felt even worse when we finally made it up to the room. I changed clothes, took some medicine, and crawled into bed, where I proceeded to stay for the first three days of our trip. It's a good thing I didn't plan anything for the first few days. I kind of had a feeling this might happen. And poor Gilbert. I told him over and over again that he didn't have to stay all cooped up with me. I suggested that he should go out with is friends, who kept calling. Gilbert said he didn't want to leave me by myself. I rolled my eyes at him and told him to quit being stupid. I was fine. Nothing more than a little head cold.
On our fourth day, I woke up and felt as fit a fiddle. Which was awesome because that was the day I had booked our Berlin Walk and the City Night Cruise later that evening. And there was no way in hell I was missing that.
At about noon, we met out tour group at a McDonald's. Yeah, weird right? After all of the groups vouchers were checked, we began our four hour walk through Berlin. The walk basically covered all of Berlins past, starting with the rise and fall of the Third Reich. We stood above Hitler's bunker, where he and Eva Braun killed themselves as the Red Army invaded Berlin in 1945 and we also got to see the new bunker excavations. It gave me goosebumps to know that one of history's most evil leaders died just yards below my feet. Then we journeyed into the Cold War era. We got to see the Berlin Wall and learned why it went up in the first place. As the tour guide talked about how horrible life was in the east, a weird look flashed across Gilberts face. It was almost anger, but not quite. Anger mixed with a little sadness, maybe? I don't know, but I hadn't ever seen him look like that before and it worried me a little bit. I asked him if he was okay and he said he was fine and left it at that. I didn't push the subject.
Next we visited the infamous Checkpoint Charlie intersection. Now, it was home to an emerging business district. Then we saw the Victory Column, which was built to commemorate the Prussian victory in the Danish-Prussian war. And by the time it was completed, the Prussians had also been victorious in the Austro-Prussian and the Franco-Prussian wars, giving the statue new purpose. When the tour guide said that it was "unbridled Prussian military arrogance at it's best," I heard Gilbert scoff and mutter that the Prussians had every right to be arrogant and proud of their military strength. Then we finally made it to the Brandenburg Gate. They took us through the footsteps of Napoleon, Bismark, the German Kaisers, the Nazis and the Allied forces as the struggle for European and world power shifted from east to west. It's amazing that, having stood alone in the Death Strip for twenty-eight years, it now symbolized the rebirth of the reunified metropolis. And I must say, it was impressive, intimidating, and beautiful all at the same time. Gilbert and I decided to come back at night to see it lit up.
The group then made it's way to the Reichstag. As we got closer to the building, I could see that it was riddled with thousands of bullet holes. I reached out and ran my fingers across one of the small craters. I wondered about the man who had fired this shot, where he was from, and what he went through before finally making it to Berlin. Maybe he was American, British, or Canadian and fought his way through France and Belgium. Or perhaps he was Russian and had made the long trek from his homeland to stop a mad man. Then we visited the Berlin Palace. And as we stood before the ruins of the palace, we were told the story of the collapse of the Soviet Union, the fall of the Berlin Wall, and the unification of Germany. It was here where, in 1989, hundreds of thousands of East Germans chanted "WE ARE THE PEOPLE." After seeing footage of it in documentaries, actually being here sent chills down my spine and envisioning thousands of people coming together to start a revolution gave me goosebumps. Our final stop was Potsdamer Platz, the heart of Berlin. The tour guide described it as the future of German technology and corporate ambition. It's quite a sight to see. Skyscrapers, numerous shops, and even a piece of the Berlin Wall. As the group went their separate ways, I was glad we decided to do this. I had a ton of fun and learned a ton more.
Even though the last stop of the tour was relatively close to our hotel, I couldn't walk another step, even if you paid me. We hailed a taxi and headed back to the hotel.
"How ya feeling?" Gilbert asked as I sat down on the couch with my laptop.
"I'm fine," I sighed as I opened an email from my mother. "My feet are killing me, but other than that, I feel great."
"Awesome," he smiled, sitting down next to me. "Hey, what time is our cruise tonight?"
"Um, 6:30, I think. Why?"
"I was thinking about taking a nap," he yawned.
"Well, it's 4:30 now. So you have an hour and a half."
"Awesome," he grunted as he kicked his shoes off and leaned his head back. Gilbert was asleep within two minutes.
While he napped, I replied to my Moms email and uploaded all of the pictures from our walk onto Facebook. By the time I had them all uploaded, captioned, and tagged, it was a quarter to six. I decided I should probably change my clothes and do something with my hair.
An hour later, we were cruising down the river Spree, watching the sunset and seeing most of the city lit up. It looked completely different at night.
"Damn, this is a perfect way to end the day," Gilbert sighed as were sitting in a couple lounge chairs on the deck.
"Yeah, I did a good job planning this," I agreed.
"You should be like, a vacation planner or something," Gilbert laughed.
"Dude, that would be awesome," I exclaimed. "Telling people where to go and what they should do."
Gilbert laughed again. "So, Miss Vacation Planner, what's on the agenda for tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," I said slowly. "You get to meet my aunt Gretchen."
At one o'clock the next afternoon, we were walking up the path leading to my aunt Gretchen's house. Before we could even get up the porch stairs, my favorite aunt swung the front door open and smiled widely.
"Renata!" she squealed, rushing down the stairs towards us. Aunt Gretchen hadn't changed one bit. She was still a short, plump woman with one of the sweetest faces you'll ever see. "It's great to see you, liebe!"
"It's amazing to see you too!" I laughed as she wrapped her arms around my neck. I hugged her back fiercely.
Aunt Gretchen pulled away and cupped my face with both of her hands. "I swear, you get more and more beautiful the older you get, kätzchen," she grinned, using her nickname for me. Then she finally noticed Gilbert and started eyeballing him critically. "Who's this?"
"Aunt Gretchen, this is my boyfriend Gilbert," I said, stepping aside. "Gil, this is my Aunt Gretchen."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," Gilbert said rather politely. Yeah, he better be nice. I'd hurt him if he wasn't.
"Are you treating her better than that Danish bastard she was with?" she asked, glaring at him.
"I am. Believe me, I would never hurt your niece," Gilbert said with a serious look in his eyes.
After that, Gretchen warmed up to Gilbert and treated him like he was family. For the next three hours, we sat around her kitchen table and talked about anything and everything. At first, she insisted upon speaking English until I started speaking German. She was amazed at how well I knew the language and complimented me on how beautifully I spoke it. Gretchen was also pleased to find out the Gilbert was German too. She asked him where he had grown up and things like that. Then she pulled out a photo album with a ton of embarrassing pictures of me from when I was younger. Gilbert got a kick out of them. While Gretchen put the photo album away, I explained to Gilbert that this was the neighborhood where I spent many childhood summers. Grammy Ilsa's house was just around the corner from here. So, after we said our goodbyes to aunt Gretchen, we walked over to the house I loved so dearly. The second it came into view, so many memories flooded my mind. Smiling, I remembered climbing the huge tree in the front yard and helping my grandmother with the laundry. I surreptitiously peered into the backyard and saw that the blueberry bushes were still there. I remembered picking so many one time, that my fingers were stained indigo for a week. But it was well worth it. Grammy made the best blueberry muffins ever. My eyes began stinging with tears as I imagined my beloved Grammy Ilsa standing on the porch. I missed her so much. After quickly snapping a few pictures, we headed for a nearby train station. Gilbert was talking me to one of his favorite beer gardens, just outside Berlin.
"Gott, this is what we need back home," Gilbert said, leaning back in his chair and locking his hands behind his head.
"A beer garden?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"Ja," he shrugged. "There's a huge German population in town and I think one would be successful."
"Maybe you should open one," I joked, still staring at him.
"I really should," he said slowly. "Dude, think about it. It'd be a total hit! All the Germans back home would have somewhere to chill. They wouldn't have to go to bars that never have decent German beer. The food would have to be awesome, too. And we'd finally have a place to have an Oktoberfest!"
"Babe, I was just kidding," I said seriously. "You can't honestly be thinking about opening one."
"I think I am," he nodded slowly.
"Where are you going to get the money?" I asked, trying to be realistic about this. "No offense, but there's no way in hell you can save up the money working at a café."
"That's what bank loans are for," Gilbert grinned.
"And that's also an awesome way to get into debt," I shook my head.
"But once it opens, I'll start making a profit and be able to pay it off in no time," he said confidently.
"You don't know that. What if it's an utter failure?"
"Then I'll deal with it if that happens. But I don't think it will."
I just glared at him. Trying to get Gilbert to see something realistically is like trying to convince a three year old that broccoli is good. It's just not going to happen.
Over the next five days, Gilbert and I did a few more touristy things, like toured museums, we visited the Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe and the bombed out spire of the Memorial Church. And we also hung out with a few of his friends. Gil's friends were…awesome. I especially liked Keefer and his fiancée, Anya. She was half Russian and flippin' cool as shit! We went out with them the most. Gilbert even went so far as to have Anya talk to me about his beer garden ambition. I had a funny feeling that he wasn't going to this up until he at least tried.
Before we knew it, we only had three days left. I couldn't believe how fast these two weeks flew by. I guess that saying is true; Time flies when you're having fun. Two days before leaving, we took a forty minute train ride to Potsdam for the Prussia's Wonderland walking tour.
First, we visited the manorial residence of Germany's last Kaiser, Wilhelm II, which was used by Churchill, Truman and Stalin through the Potsdam Conference. Then we made our way through the Dutch Quarter to the stunning Sanssouci Palace of Frederick the Great. God, that palace was beautiful. We were actually asked to wear giant over-sized slippers while touring the palace. I swear there were statues around every corner and case upon case of crystal. When we walked by a display case that showed Frederick's flute, Gilbert paused and stared at it with the strangest expression ever. It was almost as if he wanted to pick the flute up and play it. Which was weird because he hadn't ever told me he wanted to play. After Sanssouci, we saw the Garnisonkirche where the ceremonial handshake between President Paul von Hindenburg and Chancellor Adolf Hitler took place on March 21, 1933, symbolizing a coalition of the Reichswehr and Nazism. Then finally, we visited the gigantic New Palace, which was built to celebrate the end of the Seven Years' War. It had over two hundred rooms and four hundred statues. It was insanely huge. After that we saw the Roman baths and the beautiful Chinese Tea House on our way back to the train station.
After boarding the train back to Berlin, I realized I was only about an hour from doing something I had been waiting ten years to do.
As I knelt down in front of Grammy Ilsa's grave, I started clearing away the leaves and sticks. I placed a bouquet of yellow roses at the base of the headstone and began murmuring to her in German. I told her just how much I loved and missed her. I let her know that everyone was doing just fine and that they also loved and missed her greatly. And with tears flowing down my face, I introduced her to Gilbert. He kneeled down beside me and said hello.
"Remember Grammy, how you always told me you hoped I would grow up, meet a nice German boy, and fall in love?" I chuckled through the tears. "Well, you got your wish."
I closed my eyes and could see her face. That beautifully aged and wrinkled face. She smiled that eye crinkling smile of hers and I cried even harder. Gilbert wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him. I leaned my head on his shoulder and tried to calm myself down.
Five minutes later, I said my goodbyes with a heavy heart and then we made our way to Gilberts grandfathers grave, which happened to be in the same cemetery.
While he told his grandfather about pretty much everything, I pulled the weeds away from the gravestone and placed a bouquet of blue cornflowers in the bronze vase attached to it. I looked over at Gilbert and smiled at how animatedly he talked. After introducing me, we stood there for a few silent minutes before walking the fifty or so yards to his parents grave site.
"Here lie Wilhelm Beilschmidt and Karoline von Wachstein-Beilschmidt; Beloved son, daughter and parents," read the simple granite headstone. Gilbert sighed heavily as he knelt down and ran his hand over the smooth stone. When he didn't say anything after a few minutes, I took it upon myself to say something. I began by telling them my name and apologizing for Ludwig not being there. Gilbert then stood up, took my hand, and finally started talking to his parents. He told them that he and Ludwig were doing good and that he was glad I was there to meet them.
"And look Mutti, I gave her your necklace. I hope you don't mind," he laughed. Gilbert squeezed my hand and I looked up at him to see a single tear rolling down his cheek.
Later that evening, just as the sun was setting, we were having dinner in the restaurant atop the Fernsehturm Berlin. Ever since we left the cemetery, Gilbert had been unusually quiet. And now, as I watched him staring out the window while resting his chin in the palm of his hand, I noticed that his eyes looked a million miles away. I wonder if he's sad about tomorrow being our last day here? That's quite understandable. This is his home. It's always hard leaving.
"Gil?" I said quietly.
"Hm?" he answered, still staring out the window.
"Are you okay?" I asked despite already knowing the answer.
"Mhm," was all he responded.
I pursed my lips and cocked an eyebrow. I wish I had the ability read minds. Then I wouldn't have to fish things out of him. "I want you to move out when we get home," I sighed, merely trying to get his attention.
Gilbert quickly twisted his head around and stared ay me, completely dumbfounded. "Was?"
"It's about time you showed up," I chuckled. "Are you okay? You've hardly touched your dinner."
"Oh," he said, looking down at his plate. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You sure?" I asked flatly. "You've been like this most of the afternoon."
"Ja ja," Gilbert said impatiently. "I'm fine."
"You're lying," I said, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms. "You said you'd never lie to me."
Gilbert sighed while rolling his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"Why not?"
"Because talking about feelings is so girly and lame and totally un-awesome," he whined like a child.
"Oh, c'mon! You've done it before," I reminded him. "Maybe you'll feel better after you talk about it."
"I doubt it," he muttered under his breath.
"Gilbert Frederick Beilschmidt," I hissed. "Sometimes, dealing with you is like dealing with a five year old!"
Gilbert glared at me, then took a deep breath. "All right, I'll tell you. It's…a lot of things. One, my parents. I know I visit their graves every year, but this time, for some strange reason, made me realize just how much I miss them. Maybe it was because you were with me and how you kind of remind me of Mutti. It's your eyes, I think. And how sweet and motherly you can be sometimes. Second, I'm nervous about tomorrow. I haven't seen the house in about six years and I'm not sure how I'll react. I have a lot of memories, good and bad, of that house. And on top of all of that, we're going home the day after tomorrow and I'm gonna miss Berlin." Then he sighed as if a great burden had just been lifted off his shoulders.
"There. Isn't that better?" I smiled.
"A little," he admitted hesitantly.
"I know you miss your parents. That's only natural," I said softly, still smiling at him. "Don't worry about tomorrow. You'll be fine, okay? And I'm gonna miss Berlin too, but we both knew we'd have to go home eventually."
"I know, but it still sucks," he pouted. "Sometimes I wish I still lived here."
"Really?" I said, shocked. "But if you were still living here, we never would've met. And you wouldn't have the most awesome-est girlfriend ever."
"True," Gilbert grinned, starting to look more like his normal self. "Maybe we should move here."
"You've got to be kidding, right?" I exclaimed. "Just the other day, you were talking about opening a beer garden back home. Now, you're talking about moving here?"
"Ja, think about it, spatzi," he said excitedly. "You have family here and we'd have my friends too. You know the language, so that won't be an issue. And you'd have no problem at all finding a job."
"No, you can't honestly be considering this!" I said exasperatedly. "I can't just drop everything back home and move halfway across the globe! My family, my friends, my job. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. Aren't you happy back home?"
"I am," Gilbert sighed. "But can't you see the life we could have here? How awesome it would be?"
"Not really. Like I said, I can't just drop everything and leave, babe. As much as I love this city, I can't imagine living here."
"You're right," he finally said after a few minutes of silence. "It was just a wild idea that popped into my head."
"Don't worry about it," I mumbled, looking down at my plate. I hate it when he does that. When he forces me to the one to burst his bubble.
Early the next morning, we headed out to the house where Gilbert and Ludwig grew up. It was a quaint, one-story house with a massive backyard. As the taxi slowly pulled up to the curb, I heard Gilbert sigh. I looked him in the eyes and saw a mix of happiness and sadness. More happiness though, so that was a good sign. He smiled and started telling me stories. Things like chasing their dogs around and playing with their grandfather. Then his voice grew sad when he mentioned that this was the last place he had seen his parents alive. They left Gil and Ludwig with a babysitter to go out one night and never came home. They were in a horrible car accident and died instantly. After that, their grandfather moved in and continued raising them. I glanced down at my phone to see what the time was and I heard the quietest sniffle ever. I quickly looked back up at Gilbert and saw a few tears streaming down his face. I reached over and slightly stroked his face, trying to wipe the tears away. Gilbert grabbed my hand and interlocked our fingers.
"I'm glad you came with me, spatzi," he said softly.
"Me too," I whispered in response. Then he said he was done and told the driver to take us back to the hotel.
The rest of the day consisted of us trying to get things organized and repacked. Why is it always impossible to get things back into suitcases? They went in there, so why won't they go back? Maybe it was because I had a few of the hotels towels in one of my suitcases. For what I was paying each night, I felt it was my right to take them. After we finally managed to get it all packed, we decided to just chill at the hotel. We watched TV and ordered room service. It was a very peaceful way to end an awesome vacation.
At 5 a.m. the next morning, we were sitting on a plane, waiting for it to take off. Gilbert was quiet the entire taxi ride to the airport.
"You okay?" I asked after we got situated on the plane..
"Yeah, I just don't wanna leave," he said quietly.
"Think of it this way," I said. "We're going back to our house and Gus-Gus. And not to mention Ludwig, Antonio, and Francis. I'm sure you're excited to see them and tell them all about the trip."
"Now that I think about it, I am," Gilbert smiled at me. "It's not like I'll never come back. We'll visit next year."
"Exactly," I smiled back.
Translations: (Most of them you probably already know)
Gute Nacht: Good Night
Ja: Yes
Liebe: Love
Kätzchen: Kitten
Spatzi: Little sparrow
Was: What
Mutti: Mom
Anyway, I hope you liked it. Don't forget to review please! And the next chapter will be out when it's out, I guess. Haha~
See y'all next time!
