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Wedding Trip

May 25, 2009
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Wedding Trip
By Regine Lundevall Bergersen 1F

[Dunno  why, but I felt like sharing this story with you. It was a task in an English lesson once, and I was sort of happy with it. Enjoy!]

He felt the warm wind of the hot summer day ruffle his hair. He squinted towards the ocean, not seeing much but the sparkling water that blinded him with its goldenness. He closed his eyes and lifted his head towards the warm sunlight and breathed out.

Here, nothing could bother them; the fuss in the city, with its horses and carriages, and the busy people running up and down the street. Always bumping into everyone and everything. None of it could touch them – they were all alone, free to enjoy the nature around them, breathe some fresh air.

The wind brought with it the salty taste of the sea. He felt as though he was in a distant place, far away from their old town of Waterford. Perhaps in a southern country where the sun always shone and the water was warm all year. This thought and his realisations of the reality surrounding it made him sigh.

He sensed her turning towards him, so he opened his eyes.

-What’s the matter? she said, eyeing him with worry.

-Nothing, it’s just that… I wish we weren’t here. Or, don’t get me wrong, he said quickly, when he saw that she got an uncertain look on her face.

-I mean, it’s amazing to be here, right here, right now – but it pains me that we have to go back to the gray and dull world. It’s not far away, and it’s not for long, but every minute feels like an eternity, and I don’t see how I can survive, he explained. It might have sounded overdramatic, but to go back there, and pretend that they didn’t even know each other, was harder than he had ever given it credit for.

He saw that she understood. She, too, knew what he was saying. He knew how much it pained her as well, to be forced to look down on him, address him as if he was dirt under her feet. Especially when they both knew so much better.

She gripped his hand and looked out at the ocean again. Her face was thoughtful, her mind was clearly bothered. How he wished that they could have spent their day here with nothing else but listening to the slow and sure waves of the ocean, when they crashed on the beach beneath them, and the occasional buzzing of a bumblebee.

He studied her features – the sun made her skin glisten, as if it was covered with diamonds, and her blue eyes reflected what she saw – the moving and sparkling carpet that was the sea. Her blonde hair was set up, and she had the flower crown that she made earlier perched on top of it. A few strands were loose, and they blew in the wind, and in her eyes. She took little notice.

He looked down at himself – his dark, rough clothes, made for a worker. It couldn’t be compared to the delicate fabric that her dress consisted of – pale blue, with its beautiful dark blue embroideries. He sighed and reached up to his hair, trying to smooth it. She always said that she liked it, his dark hair that tickled his eyebrows. Not quite like the people she usually socialised with. He gave up his hair and wondered why she liked him.

He had never found his dark, murky eyes particularly charming, and his pale skin, in spite of the clear complexion, couldn’t compare to the rich boys’ sunny glow and red-spotted cheeks that apparently made all the girls swoon.

Her skin had a slight glow, a trace that witnessed on days out in the sun, possibly in her garden, or maybe from the sunny weeks at the beach in her family’s mansion by the sea. He didn’t bear many signs that he had ever seen the sun, like all the members of his family – all workers, working at the factories, living in a grey and eternally sunless world. Not like her and her sparkling family, friends and houses.

He found himself in the exact same place he had been many times before – wondering why she liked him. Why she went through all this trouble to be with him. She could easily choose whoever she wanted; all the handsome rich young men liked her. Yet she still insisted that it was him she wanted. How could she? When he asked her that, she just turned it back on him: why did he like her? And even though he could think of a million reasons, he stopped asking. No matter how hard he found it to believe, he knew hat she had just as many reasons to like him.

Suddenly, there was another sound in their surroundings – not like the bumblebees and the ocean. The sound of a horse.

– Shoot, she murmured dazedly. He turned around quickly to the noise. Luckily, they didn’t sit up on the regular view-point; instead, they sat in their own little spot on a shelf a couple of meters below. They were always prepared for this.

– I don’t want to go, not yet, she said in a low voice, so as not to be heard by the newcomer. He looked into her deep eyes; they looked so deep, he felt he could swim in them.

This always happened. Whenever she announced that she wanted to go to the shore, they let her – but they always checked up on her. She made sure to tell them not to pick her up. She sighed and rose. He opened his mouth to say something, but she put a finger on them and shushed him.

– I’ll be right back, she whispered. He touched his lips where she had touched them. They pricked and felt warm – a shiver ran through him, and he watched her as she carefully made her way up to the road.

– Ah, there you are, miss! How are you, he heard the voice of one of the butlers say.

-Fine, thank you Albert, but I must say that I’m not quite finished with my studies just yet, she replied. He admired how she managed to be this polite and still tell him, basically, to fuck off.

– Of course, miss. Just orders from your father, he excused himself. Are you sure you don’t want me to wait, bring you home safe? he said hopefully.

– No thank you. Bye Albert. He could practically hear the frosty smile in her tone, and he could tell that Albert did too – he heard him get up on his horse again and disappear. When he couldn’t hear the horse anymore, he saw her appear over the edge.

– Oh hello, are you here? he asked in mock surprise.

– Ha ha, she replied. She walked over to him and sat down. She leaned her head on his shoulder and looked out on the ocean.

He squinted down at her, tried to understand what was going on inside her head. What did she want? What did she think about the future? Their future? Was there even any ‘their’ future?

– What are you thinking? She looked up at him. He wanted to look away from her intense stare, but he couldn’t. Something held him back. He felt his heart picking up speed and his breath starting to go faster. It had been there on the tip of his tongue for a really long time, but this was the first time he knew what he was wanting, no, needing to say.

– Will you marry me?

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4 Comments leave one →
  1. sabina42 permalink
    May 25, 2009 10:27 PM

    You could be rich if you wrote a novel as good as this.

  2. Caroline permalink
    May 27, 2009 3:48 PM

    Regine, this is really good. You could be really rich!

  3. May 27, 2009 10:17 PM

    I’m not really THAT romantic girl, but omg, this just… I totally adore it! Muy muy muy cute, and I like your writing as well, consise and not overcute. Keep up, like they say 😀

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