pairing ; lafayette x reader
summary ; the need to see your husband has not only gotten you to america, but also lost in the big new york city.
words ; 1837
warnings ; badly translated french
My dearest Gilbert,
I do hope that you are alive and well over in America. The sudden stop in returned letters has left me quite shaken and worried about you. As your wife, I feel as if it is my place to tell you that I have been questioning you returning home. How do I know if you’ve found another in the “Land of the Free”? Or that you now believe that we should no longer be married? But besides that, I would like to tell you that I love you, and I hope to see you very soon.
You sighed, looking around you. The area around you was riddled with people, shops, inns, everything. The road in which you traveled to get here were made of dirt, and the bottom of your dress now had a brown tinge to it, something you were sure you would be able to wring out without much trouble. But the roads here were all made of cobblestone, carefully lain to provide the image of elegance and care about one of the most beautiful towns in the up and coming America.
You had absolutely no idea where to go, and you were sure you looked like a foreigner “just passing by” with the way you were standing. You were on your tiptoes, trying to see if there was anything you were missing, though that was simply because you’d gotten used to being as short as you were.
Women were never given the nice end of the stick in the height department, sadly.
So, with a shake of your head, you ran a hand over the top of your head and stopped when the side of your fingers met the bun atop your crown. Tendrils of hair poked out, but otherwise, it felt kempt and managed-looking, especially since you had an image to keep up, being a Lafayette and all.
Taking a few steps in what you thought would be a good direction, you got lost in the view of Manhattan. Alongside the cobblestone paths were buildings of utter beauty – brown bricks, red bricks, maroon bricks, even white bricks made up the walls, the windows were all outlined in gorgeous white wood, complementing the freshly-cleaned glass it framed.
The yards were outlined with metal gates with spikes at the top, a silent message to tell people to keep off the grass and property depending on the time of day. The inns and stores were all clearly marked, their signs elegantly carved with precision.
All in all, it reminded you of the beauty of your home country, France, what, with how everything was cozily pushed together and even the buildings themselves practically floating in regality.
Snapping out of your gaze of the place, you focused back on your mission – find your husband. He had to be around here somewhere, but it would take asking people to figure out where that somewhere was.
Taking quick steps into a store, you walked up to the counter and cleared your throat, “Excusez-moi?”