Berlin - Short in second-personA Story by VikkyJust a little tidbit of writing I come about with. Reviews? It’s a crisp
autumn afternoon Berlin, Germany. The glass doors in the white pillar mansion
are open, and the white cloths that regularly shade the windows are blowing
inside the house softly. You’re lying across an elegant, red velvet leisure seat
with intricate designs winding around the sides. A couple servants are dappled
across the wide open room, awaiting any needs that arise. With your eyes
closed, you lift up your wine glass. It’s filled with red wine almost
immediately, and you bring the glass up to your lips slowly. As you sip, your
matte red lipstick lightly stains around the rim of the glass. With your free
hand, you snap your fingers once. The silence is then filled with Bach playing
quietly. Not more than a second or two after
this, footsteps are heard on the stairs that are slightly winding, just a few
feet in front of you. They sound
certain. You open your smoky-black eyes. Above, you see Victor descending with
a black tux on. His jet-black hair is slicked back, yet a few strands remained
wild at the ends. He looks up, and his sea-foam green eyes catch yours. “Lovely…” he whispers, his eyebrows
raised, and paces himself down the steps a tad quicker. When he reaches the
bottom, his hair is slightly frazzled and he runs his hands through it. You smile, sit up, set your glass
down, and adjust your elegant, blood red dress. As he approaches you, he
swallows, allowing his eyes to take you all in. “A-alright well I suppose it’s
time to lea-“ You interrupt him with a kiss. It’s
a light peck, making sure your lipstick doesn't ruin. He leans in desperate for
more, but you just nod at him and he takes your hand into his. He guides you to the door, and helps
you into your fur coat. You two then leave, out to enjoy your time at an important
dinner party in town. © 2014 VikkyAuthor's Note
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