Hello there! I was happy to find this little Book Thief fanfic community, and after reading the book and seeing the movie, I decided to add my own contribution. I've actually never written a story like this; I've only ever written about animals (cats, specifically) and writing a human romance story was at the bottom of my to-do list, or so I thought.

As it turns out, The Book Thief turned from some old required-reading book for high school English to one of my most favorite novels ever! Then I just had to watch the movie, which in my opinion was equally amazing in its own way. So, naturally, I was inspired to compose some sort of something based off of the characters I'd become so attached to. Because I love AU stories, I was compelled to write this little thing.

Some things to note: first off, I did read the book a while ago, so some details may be fuzzy. Like, I think Liesel's birthday is in February? Not too sure about that one, and because unfortunately I do not own the book yet I cannot exactly check up on that.

Next, a lot of this story, although I have read it over and over until my eyes bled, might be... well, I don't exactly know how to put it. Let's just say that a lot of it was written during late (and I mean late) night creativity bursts, so... yeah.

Finally, just remember this is my first fanfic that involves people. I also am not much of a romantic writer, so writing many of these scenes was weird for me. Don't expect dirty details, because that's not the kind of stuff I do. A LOT, I mean A LOT of this story is cute fluff, so be prepared.

Okay, so forgive me for the longass A/N. Here is the story, which will start with a bit of background before we get to the point described in the summary. It is kinda in Death's POV, but strays from that format as it goes on. Anyways, see you at the bottom!

These characters are 100% owned by Markus Zusak :)

* A Different Version of the Story *

One thing I have noticed many times over the years is that, well, many people are often left unsatisfied with the ending of a story. The look of disgust as they throw the book across the room, or perhaps they have a gentler reaction, such as a single tear rolling down the cheek.

Today, however, I have to share with you a story many a thinker has pondered over, endless nights awake, tossing and turning… thinking of what could have been.

Well, maybe not many people. But nevertheless, I am here with you once again, probably against my better judgement, to share a different ending for our dear Liesel Meminger; for some, this version of her story is a more pleasant ending, and for others, they consider it a melancholier conclusion.

So, without further ado, I present to you a whirlwind of events brought on by events you already have been informed of, and have stayed the same. The only detail that has been changed, however, seems minor at first but ends up changing the entire course of events. Let's have a see, shall we?

* Himmel Street, 1943 *

"Come on, saukerl, hurry up! Honestly, it's like you want them to catch us."

"Well, maybe I do, Liesel. Believe it or not, I actually find this invitation a little weird."

"A little wei— Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, would you come along already?"

It was a particularly brisk evening in the modest town of Molching, Germany. The entire maze of streets seemed to be dark, save for a few weakly burning street lights, providing about as much light as one firefly in a wide open field at night.

Himmel Street seemed to be the darkest of all. A small side street off a slightly busier one, it contained a jumble of houses clustered on either side, not quite symmetrical but nevertheless the same to a newcomer.

The shadows of the petite homes were draped like black tarps over the narrow road, and mischievous whispering could barely be heard, carried over the breeze, as two dark shapes jumped from shadow to shadow. It was an obvious attempt not to be seen, and as well as the pair succeeded at that, they just couldn't appear to get the hang of the "being quiet" factor of sneaking around.

"Okay, we're here." The toes of tattered brown flats rested against the edge of a crumbling concrete step.

Another pair of feet stopped just behind, his breath touching the hair of the individual ahead. "Really, saumensch? I had no idea."

"Shut up!" came the reply. Then, ever so cautiously, four feet pattered up the steps. The first person fumbled with the door, flinging it open fast so that it wouldn't creak. "In, in!" She ushered the boy inside, proceeding to nearly slam her own foot in the door as she moved to block any remaining chilly air from rushing in.

"Well, now what?" The boy's question was drowned out by the loud snores coming from the back room. As the girl crept toward a door in the back of the kitchen, he snickered. "Is that your mama or is that a pig who's snoring, Liesel?"

Right then, the girl felt two conflicting desires all at once, to either smash her lips against his or to slug him in the face. Either would do for her, but at the moment she was too busy squinting in the dark as she began to descend a rickety wooden staircase.

The boy followed, his nose twitching like a rabbit's as the musty air fell heavy around them. "Aw, I don't know about this. There is definitely a ghost of some sort down here, Liesel, and you know—"

Before he could finish his sentence, a candle was lit and through the orange glow a pair of fierce brown eyes glared at him. "Did you not hear me the first time I said to shut up?"

The boy kept his lips sealed as the girl went around to various memorized locations, striking matches as needed and lighting every dusty candle she could feel in the dark. Then, at last, the lighting was sufficient enough for the boy to quit whimpering.

"So, what do you think?" the girl asked. She presented a coy smile and spread her arms, glancing around anxiously as if it was her first time there.

As she had been lighting candles, the boy had stared at his shoes, hands in his pockets. However, now he glanced up, feeling more secure with the improved lighting. As his eyes fell on her once more, something fluttered in his stomach.

She had, as some would describe it, good German blonde hair. It could be curly, but it could also be wavy; it was really a combination of both, and the boy longed to run his hands through it, just once, if she would let him. The blonde curls cascaded past her shoulders, divided evenly on either side. Then there were her eyes: always warm, and always sweet, just like the hot cocoa the boy remembered his mother used to make long ago, before the war. He returned to reality when he realized that she was still standing there, awaiting an answer, and immediately the increased awkwardness of the situation caused sweat to spring onto his palms.

Consciously wiping his hands on his pants, the boy frowned and gestured to his closed mouth.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, slowly lowering her arms. "You can speak now, Rudy."

The boy called Rudy grinned and answered, "Well, it's… a basement, I'll give you that."

The girl turned away from him, clasping her hands tightly in front of her. Unhurriedly, she walked over to a dark wall marked with years of carefully-chalked words. She hesitated, preparing herself to turn around and once again see his lemon-yellow hair, casting more brightness than any of the candles.

However, Rudy beat her to it. He materialized at her side, and barely let his fingers graze over the words so as to not smudge the chalk. His sharp blue eyes flashed over in her direction. "Did you write all these, Liesel?"

The girl called Liesel shrugged, swallowing her erratically-beating heart that had somehow risen into her throat. "I wrote some," she murmured. "Papa wrote some of the first ones, when he was teaching me how to…"

"How to read," Rudy finished for her. He stepped back and crossed his arms, surveying the wall all the way from the plentiful A words to the few Z words, which faded into the darkness of a corner.

"I've spent so many nights down here," Liesel began, finding an old paint can of Papa's to sit on and inviting her friend to sit on another, "you know, just thinking, or writing, or reading… even to Max. A- and I know what you might be thinking— it's a creepy old basement! And I know I have my own bedroom upstairs, but… here I feel safe. Here I have my own sanctuary, and it's big and it's a little dusty but it's mine."

Glittering brown eyes met ocean blue. "You know what?" Rudy breathed, breaking their eye contact so his gaze could jump from candle flame to candle flame. He watched the dripping wax falling like white teardrops, because for some reason he was unable to look at her as he said, "I don't like it. I love it." Finally, he willed himself to drag his eyes up to her face again. She hadn't stopped staring at him. "I'm glad you showed me it."

And through the dwindling night, the two conversed or simply sat in comfortable silence, her scanning over words in ordered lists she'd engrained in her mind, and him watching candle wax drip onto a thin cement floor.

It wasn't long after they fell asleep that the world outside was rocked, and Himmel Street was transformed into rubble.

OoOoO

The following morning, the rubble was combed through for bodies or any miracle survivors. The bombs had been dropped, but the sirens not sounded until too late.

One man spotted a twitching hand nearby a stub of a candlestick. With the help of a few others, he heaved away a large chunk of what used to be a wall and pulled out the boy and the girl.

Another request for help was made some distance away, and the men picked their way in that direction, leaving Liesel and Rudy to their own devices.

"Mama? Papa?" Liesel called out, trying to take a step but instead stumbling over a blackened object. Rudy helped her up, his dirt-smudged face swiveling around bewilderedly with wide eyes like an owl's.

One by one, the pair came across their families. Mama and Papa were laid just like they were in bed, neatly and comfortably yet oddly stiff. Liesel tore her eyes away from them, already feeling the mess of tears and snot running down her face.

Rudy came upon his family, his mother and siblings, all lined up by the unrecognizable pile of debris that used to be his house. He shook his head vigorously, unable to believe it, and shook his mother in a vain attempt to revive her. "It's no use," he moaned to Liesel, who was standing numbly beside his kneeled form.

A woman came up to the friends and took the hand of each, leading them over to two stretchers. Without protest, Liesel and Rudy obediently lay down on them and were carried away, wondering how it was possible for one person's life to completely turn around in just one night.

That's it for now, I hope you liked it. If not, that's fine too. I don't judge.

Just a few more bits of background next chapter! Bye for now.