As time flew by, I was surprised to see someone so flawlessly flawed. Such an honest person; Anastasia was. She was honestly like a charachter plucked out of Les Miserables with a touch of Tess d'Urberville. And I was slightly fascinated. She didn't get me, yet she understood what I wanted. One big oxymoron she was. But, then again, what did I know about oxymorons. Or the philosophy of Kant and Schopenhauer. She made it sound so interesting. Metaphores and such... a great deal for me. I knew how to make a character out her books come alive yet I never truly understood what was great about Dorian Grey and Mr. Darcy. But I did enjoy listening to her talk drunkenly about both of them and maybe about one of those Romanian novels she seemed to love so much. It's true what they say. Paris is, indeed, the city of love.
Legend of Springs
By saintroumanie
Thomas Davison wanted to meet the love of his life, yet what he didn't know was the she came as bitter stains... More