He threw her on the ground roughly. Her beret fell from her hair and sat in the dust not far away. He stood over her, eyes roving over her body before bending down on one knee beside her legs. She coughed, glaring up at him with a half-snarl. Even defeated, she still fought him.
He’d won this time; the tomboyish maiden wouldn’t get the best of him anymore.
Hi there, it’s Sheheharaz ( pervy otaku on ff.net )
I eanted to share something I just came up with in English, and with my native being French, I hope it’s not going to be too clumsy. I think it is, but you are the judges, dears !
So, please enjoy and tell me what I should improve ^//^’
It was not as if everything was entirely his fault. Gilbert didn’t meant to be that mean to her — loosing had maybe made him a little bitterer, harsher, for sure. It had annoyed him; having been here for what seemed like forever, always there, always beside her, watching her and waiting for her to turn to him, see him like he was, that he loved her the way she was — he was too prideful to admit it to somebody else than Feliciano or his younger brother, though. I lost the girl, he often thought, I lost her like a fuckin’ looser, that’s so unawesome. Even better, it was to than annoying thigh-assed pretty face Roderich.