10. Stories for good

The awkward atmosphere has sucked the delight Elizabeta and Gilbert just had before. On their way back to the inn, they walk in uncomfortable silence as he follows behind her.

She knows that to some extent, she just poured all her stress and frustration out, which affected him unjustifiably. She wants to show him a friendly gesture to bury the hatchet, but she doesn't know how and cannot find a chance. Furthermore, his aimless anger out of nowhere (at least she doesn't know why) upsets her. She takes a quick glance of him and finds the other seems to be sulking or making a dead end by himself. Is it necessary to make such a long face?

Just as she almost drowns in her chaotic thoughts, they already arrive at the suit. Elizabeta can only try her best to bid him good night calmly. "Then…see you tomorrow morning…" Before she closes the door, Gilbert grabs her wrist almost roughly. "What is it?" He doesn't answer her but pulls her into his room and leans on the door, hindering the way out. She gazes at him half suspiciously and half expectantly, her heart pounding speedily.

He looks in her eyes. "I want you to be here tonight." She is astonished by his move and cannot utter a word. "But…but I want to sleep and rest…"He still doesn't let go of her, looking serious. She becomes nervous. "…Why? What do you…" She begins to fear and cannot finish her question because she is not able to see through his mind now.

Gilbert starts to wonder about her reaction. Since they left the shore, she has appeared unusually absent-minded. When they climbed upstairs just now, she didn't pay attention to the red carpet above the floor, and if he hadn't noticed in time and caught her on the back, she would have already fallen off the stairs. More oddly, she seemed to not feel the danger or his touch and kept moving. And now, she gets even kind of scared. Is she bewitched or something?

"Hey, are you alright?" She stammers, "…oh, you…ye…yes, I'm fine." He is so close to her that the shadow blurs his feature. She leans back a little, only to realize she almost trips over her skirt's ruffle. She balances herself again and titles her head with utmost courage.
"…Are, are you mad?"
His eyes widen. "Why say that?"
"…Because you haven't spoken to me until we're in this room…"
He frowns. "…Wasn't it you who didn't want to talk?"
"No, I thought you were mad about…me."
"…No, I wasn't, and I shouldn't." She relaxes a little. "Sorry." She lowers her head. "Don't be."

After adapting to darkness, Gilbert notices Elizabeta's cheeks turn pink.
"Stay here tonight, will you?" He asks gently.
"Are…are you doing anything?" She is too shy to lift her eyes.
"I'm doing what you want to." He answers without hesitation.
She glances away. "…crafty."
"Ha?" Out of surprise, he loosens his grip of her.
"What if I say I want you to dive in the lake until tomorrow morning?" She threatens.
"If you stay with me, I'll do it."
A moment later, she murmurs. "…Idiot." She gives up and sits down directly on the carpet in front of the fire place, and he follows her as well.

"Tell me a story." She requests.
"A story? What kind?" He didn't expect that.
"Any kind you please." She takes off her leather boots and lies down on the rug in a totally opposite way of acting like a lady, which makes him laugh.
"How about 'Struwwelpeter'?" He proposes.
"What is it?" She asks.
"It's a book with illustration for children that was published in Deutschland not long ago. I have read it to Ludwig before."
"Go on."

The book contains several short stories plus aggrandizement effects in order to teach children to behave; if not, dreadful things would happen to them. For instance, there is a story called " The Story of Flying Robert":

"When the rain comes tumbling down
In the country or the town,
All good little girls and boys
Stay at home and mind their toys.
Robert thought, - "No, when it pours,
It is better out of doors."
Rain it did, and in a minute
Bob was in it.
Here you see him, silly fellow,
Underneath his red umbrella.

What a wind! Oh! how it whistles
Through the trees and flow'rs and thistles.
It has caught his red umbrella;
Now look at him, silly fellow,
Up he flies
To the skies.
No one heard his screams and cries;
Through the clouds the rude wind bore him,
And his hat flew on before him.

Soon they got to such height,
They were nearly out of sight!
And the hat went Up so high,
That it almost touch'd the sky.
No one ever yet could tell
Where they stopp'd, or where they fell;
Only this one thing is plain,
Rob was never seen again!"

Elizabeta keeps laughing during the stories because the plots are so childish but possible to happen in some way. Besides, Gilbert intentionally speaks in a melodic tone and tells the stories seriously, making them much funnier.
"Those kids are so naughty, and some consequences are just too overstated!" She comments.
"Ja, but Ludwig seemed to believe those endings would surely happen and now he obeys those admonishments without doubts."
"Oh, don't pick on your little brother. Ludwig is an angel!"
"You should see his face when hearing those stories." He smirks.
"How come dose Ludwig get a brother like you? I'm sorry for him." She sighs.
"Hey, I'm a responsible big brother who tells him stories every night!"
"No, you're just a bad example of adults."
"I'm not!"
"Yes, you are!"
They start to squabble and quarrel like children. In the end, Elizabeta grows tired and stops bickering first.

"Gil."
"What?" He groans.
"I think Ludwig is luckier than us."
"Why?" He stares at her.
"Because there are no others to warn us what we shouldn't do."

They become quiet once again. Gilbert adds some more charcoal into the fireplace, watching his partner's face with her eyes closed for a while. Suddenly, he realizes the whole situation clearly: of them two, of the others. She is so near to him and yet so far away, lying by his side. Nevertheless, he never regrets any of his acts in his life.

Later, he stands up and crouches before her. "Eliza, don't fall asleep here. You'll catch a cold." She sits up and rubs her eyes in a lovely way, her slim ankles exposing to the cool air. He takes up her hand and leads her to his bed. He sits down on the bed next to her. While she is yawning, he leans in and kisses her cheek without a warning, and her eyes flicker open immediately. At first, he just wanted to touch her a bit; but when he sees rosy clouds on her cheekbones, he becomes not able to control himself and gives her more kisses: on her forehead, her rims of eyes, her nose, and her lips. She seems to squirm reluctantly, but then surrenders to his firm hold of her shoulders.

He pushes her down on the bed sheet, and she never walks out of his room all night.

Author's notes:

I think this story is coming to an end, although I kind of hate to say goodbye to them.

1. "Struwwelpeter "was regarded as the first published illustration book for children in 1845 by Heinrich Hoffmann in reaction to the lack of good children's books. He uses simple words and vivid pictures to teach children to behave well by warning severe consequences of misbehavior.