What's Wrong With Me?
It was hard not to call to mind the childhood fantasies he'd had, about rescuing the fair princess and working tirelessly to win her heart. To Alarik, it seemed possible that such a fair princess now stood before him. His warm orange eyes were alight with admiration for her. And then she began to speak. The natural smile that had come to his lips now faltered, only slightly. Did she not speak the same language as him? Her words were a bit awkward, and not always correct. But if it was all foreign to her, she was doing an incredible job. And somehow, her sheepish smile made her even more endearing to him.
His face warmed a bit as she thanked him and called him sweet, and he smiled as he sat down to relax in the sand as well. "You don't have to thank me," Alarik said gently, slowing his words just a little in case his suspicions were correct. It would make it easier for her to do all the translating in her head. If only he knew her first language, and knew how to speak it so she would be more comfortable. He had this desire inside him to make her feel content and comfortable. Such a damsel should never be in distress.
"Forgive me, I don't mean to be rude," the young man said. "But your accent... Were you raised to speak in a language other than this?"
He hoped the young woman could tell that Alarik was in no way laughing at her. He found it fascinating. If she spoke another language entirely, that must mean that she came from a far away land. Or her family did, at least. And Alarik, being the dreamer and adventurer he was, couldn't help the way his imagination got the best of him. Which is why it took him several moments to realize he still hadn't introduced himself yet. Crap.
"Oh, and uh..." he began, clearing his throat shyly as his face warmed up again. "My name is Alarik..." "Talk" "You" Think |
