Lorelai knows that there are approximately 350,000 words in the Russian language. Her literature professor father used to tell her a new word each night, each with it's own strange definition.
Lorelai knows that there are, on estimate, 470,00 words in the English dictionary. When she was a child learning the language her mother used to make her sit and read the book cover to cover until she could near enough recite it by memory.
Lorelai knows that there are around 130,000 words in the spoken French Language. After growing up doing ballet her parents had made her take French lessons taught by an old professor with a long white beard.
Lorelai knows over 950,000 words, but she is still yet to find one that could describe how she felt towards Alma Peregrine. In the English it might be referred to as love; a deep feeling of affection. That wasn't quite right. In Russian the word for love is любовь. Despite being her native language, it didn't feel quite right either. The word for love in French is aimer. Still no.
If she had to describe it she would probably say that what she felt was the emotional equivalent of a gasp for air after minutes under water. Warm gloves being placed on cold hands. The sun shining through a break in the clouds. Waking up from a nightmare in a warm bed. Drinking hot chocolate by a crackling fire on an icy winters day. A warm shower with aching muscles. Salvation. The sun. Warmth. Light. Peace. Hope.
Alma Peregrine was perfection, and what Lorelai felt for her was something beyond words.
A/N - Surprise, Romanoff's alive.
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The Dark Of Our Worlds
FanfictionWhat truly happens when no one is there? What happens in the parts of the world accessible to so few? How human are peculiars? But there are some secrets that aren't like that. Some secrets are so undeniably human and Alma Peregrine has a lot of t...
