Spark | Teen Ink

Spark

February 23, 2020
By Anonymous

I am thoroughly and irrevocably in love with a girl with no fortune, no title, and no idea I have any feelings for her at all. You see, I am a man of quiet disposition, large fortune, and the title of Sir Arbente Delemonte.

It started out small, a smile here, a few sweet words there, and I had fallen head over heels.It piled up and up and up until I couldn’t take it anymore. Until I had to tell her how I felt, Or else I was quite certain I would explode. It went like this:

“Miss Youth? Would you care to accompany me on a walk through the grounds?” She, her parents, and my friend Florence, who had all joined me for tea at my estate in greenshire, all looked shocked in my asking in such an abrupt and straight to the point way. Nevertheless i was determined, and offered her my arm. 

Katalina looked around and proclaimed, “But my dear sir, you couldn’t possibly mean me?”

“But of course!” I replied, still offering my arm. She took it, if not hesitantly, and we made our way out of the sitting room.

We took the leftmost route, the longest, If I do remember correctly. I began as such, “ My dear Katalina,” Here she looked puzzled, but did not interrupt me. “I have to confess to you my ever growing affection for you and your family, as I do believe If I do not, I shall not live a minute longer. Your smile, your countenance, your every word, and your earnestness in everything you do has drawn me in.”

To this, I must sadly confess, she had good reason to interrupt my ramblings. “Affection? For me?? But sir,” Here I interjected she must call me by my christian name, “Fine Arbente, affection for me? But you must be confused. I am but a girl of no situation, and how our acquaintances would laugh! Surely this is all a jest at my expense!”

I was astonished, “A jest! You can’t think me so cold as to play with your regard! For shame katalina! For shame!”

Here she turned grave, and her countenance soon suffered quite a blow. I believed I may have overstepped my boundaries, When she said, “Mister Delamonte, even if I did return the sentiment, there is one thing that shall keep us apart forever.”

“Well what is it then, If you could even grant me that,” I asked, tears kept back by no small amount of self control.

“My...sickness. I don’t believe your friends have informed you of it prior to this little declaration?”

“Indeed they have not.”

“The doctors don’t believe me to live another two years. It's a sickness of the lungs, you see.” Now, let me tell you, she said this last part with perfect frankness, not a speck of fear in her voice.

We continued our ramblings, deep in conversation of the future, and we were always much closer after that rambling down the hills of greenshire. After all, we were to be man and wife.



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