One hundred days until my wedding. Well, until it is scheduled to happen.
Madeleine slept at my house last night, so that we could further discuss our plans. I do not remember what we spoke about, as I was too distracted gazing at her beautiful face while she spoke.
We kissed again last night as well. When she was laying on the bedroll, and I was on my bed, I said goodnight quietly, unsure if she was awake. She surprised me by pulling me into a sitting position and leaning over to kiss me again.
Her lips are so very soft. You would not expect them to be, seeing as how harsh and pointed the words that leave them are. She is not harsh to me, of course. Our relationship is nothing but sweetness and love, and it will be until the day that we die.
After our kiss, I could not help but fall asleep with a large smile on my face. The only word that I could think was "love", as it bounced around inside my mind until I lost consciousness.
YOU ARE READING
My Dear Madeleine
Historical FictionAdélaïde, a 15-year-old girl living in Nouvelle France, befriends her older neighbour, Madeleine. Some historians would say... they were very good friends.
