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Wrong or right doesn't have a place in the situation. This has nothing to do with that, it's about human feelings which are beyond it.
Elizabetas's eyes open slowly to gray light pouring into the room and rain hitting the large picture frame window. The crisscrossed blue and white bed sheets are covering her. "Gilbert must have covered me when he got out of bed." She sat up and stretched her arms above her head.
She pushes the sheets off and stands. Her clothes are no where to be seen-only her bra and panties are left hanging over the chair sitting in front of Gilbert's desk. She places her bra and panties on with a low grunt.
"Trust Gilbert to steal my clothes," she says to herself as she rummages through his dresser. "This might work." She holds up a black t-shirt. A gold chick is printed on the front, adorable she thinks, and definitely something Gilbert would own.
As she pulls it on she wonders about how the day had gone by, her thoughts go back to months before, the fights between herself and Roderich.
He lied the entire time, he knew how Gilbert felt and tried to keep me away as though I would cheat...not like this counts! No, he shouldn't have lied to me in the first place...oh God what have I done?
She opened the bedroom door walks down the hall to the bathroom. She washes her face and washes out her mouth. Elizabeta makes her way quickly down the stairs.
I'll thank him for a great time I guess, tell him I have to go so I need my clothes back. I'll just...go to the drugstore and hope like hell Ivan's there. I need a shower and I'm pretty sure he'll let me use his. Oh God, I have to tell Roderich what I've done...oh God he's going to leave me.
Half way down the stairs she stops.
Why should I care if he's angry? He's been lying to me for ten years! I missed Mr. Braginski's funeral, Ludwig's wedding and God knows what else. What would have happened when my grandmother died? Would he have had the funeral all done behind my back? And all this to keep me away from Gilbert? Gilbert wasn't even at fault for this. It was me. It's my fault.
After ascending the stairs Elizabeta walked into the living room. A piano stood there with pictures resting on top, mostly filled with Ludwig's daughters, all blond with brilliant colored brown eyes and wide Felicia like smiles.
"So you're awake?"
Startled she nearly dropped the picture. Placing it back on the piano Elizabeta half turned. Gilbert was dressed in only loose cotton pants. He leaned against the doorway to what must have been the kitchen. "Whoa there, it's just me. You hungry?"
Say it. Tell him you have to leave.
"Yes."
"I made dinner. Don't worry it aint wurst. You like pasta right?"
Damn you, tell him you have to go!
"Yes."
"Well come on then."
Forget it, I don't care anymore!
"Gilbert?"
"What?"
The expression on his face was of pure trepidation. Obviously he thought she was going to leave. His whole stance reeked of confusion and sadness. Something in her broke just a little. She wasn't sure of her feelings.
She needed to know.
"Gil, make love to me."
He crossed the room and took her into his arms. Picking her up bridal style Gilbert carried her back up into his bedroom. This time it was better, more passionate more loving rather then the swift roughness of before. He was gentle.
And Elizabeta didn't mind.
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