Sir Peter's POV
I watched Adella, studying beside me. She was biting her lips, in concentration as she studied the book I had donné her. Those rose red, kissable lips. I would have no chance to lay my lips on hers, she would soon be married to some prince.
I had loved her ever since I first began teaching her, when she was 14. She was just a young girl but her mind, beauty and attitude made me l’amour her.
The light in her eyes when she handed me a essay ou a poem she had written herself. Her beautiful face I would never get to touch.
I was madly in love, it seemed odd because of the age difference and I was plus mature then her.
"I think I will choose one Golden Age to write about" she a dit looking up at me. "That seems like a good idea" I answered. She nodded. I handed her a piece of paper and a quill.
She immediately began écriture in calm, flowing motions.
I did want to tell her how I felt, but alas she would only become scared of me. Well, i think she would. I would have to be contented to watch her grow up and marry another man.
Ten minutes later she raised her head and yawned. "Tired?" I asked trying not to laugh. "Yes, sir" she responded then set the quill down. I picked up the paper and read over what she had written.
She was truely talented. "Adelle" I said. "Yes, sir?" she answered. "Have toi ever tried écriture a novel?" I wondered. She shook her head causing her curls to bounce.
She didnt know that with any little movements she did she sent my cœur, coeur racing. "You should" I told her. "I am not sure, sir. I can not write a romance novel because i am not skilled in the art of s’embrasser ou lovemaking" she answered. "Someday we shall cover that" I mumbled under my breath. "Pardon?" she asked. "Nothing, simply talking to myself" I answered then paused "You are dismissed".
She smiled at me then pushed the chair back and left the room. Leaving me, dreaming and hoping for a thing that I could never have.
I sighed and picked up my books.
I watched Adella, studying beside me. She was biting her lips, in concentration as she studied the book I had donné her. Those rose red, kissable lips. I would have no chance to lay my lips on hers, she would soon be married to some prince.
I had loved her ever since I first began teaching her, when she was 14. She was just a young girl but her mind, beauty and attitude made me l’amour her.
The light in her eyes when she handed me a essay ou a poem she had written herself. Her beautiful face I would never get to touch.
I was madly in love, it seemed odd because of the age difference and I was plus mature then her.
"I think I will choose one Golden Age to write about" she a dit looking up at me. "That seems like a good idea" I answered. She nodded. I handed her a piece of paper and a quill.
She immediately began écriture in calm, flowing motions.
I did want to tell her how I felt, but alas she would only become scared of me. Well, i think she would. I would have to be contented to watch her grow up and marry another man.
Ten minutes later she raised her head and yawned. "Tired?" I asked trying not to laugh. "Yes, sir" she responded then set the quill down. I picked up the paper and read over what she had written.
She was truely talented. "Adelle" I said. "Yes, sir?" she answered. "Have toi ever tried écriture a novel?" I wondered. She shook her head causing her curls to bounce.
She didnt know that with any little movements she did she sent my cœur, coeur racing. "You should" I told her. "I am not sure, sir. I can not write a romance novel because i am not skilled in the art of s’embrasser ou lovemaking" she answered. "Someday we shall cover that" I mumbled under my breath. "Pardon?" she asked. "Nothing, simply talking to myself" I answered then paused "You are dismissed".
She smiled at me then pushed the chair back and left the room. Leaving me, dreaming and hoping for a thing that I could never have.
I sighed and picked up my books.
