Story in second person from Moritz's POV. Enjoy.

Could it be possible my nightmare could come alive? You wonder as you watch her. You try not to watch her because watching means whispering, and whispers will reach her brother's ears, and her brother will confront you and you will stammer and stumble and he will most likely scare you. You find it amazing Hanschen could care for anything, but she is an amazing girl. She comes from a moneyed background, she is a Rilow, and you can't help but notice her legs. And the sky blue stockings that cover them. The same sky blue stockings that haunt your dreams. Is it she who haunts you at night?

She is beautiful and delicate, you can't deny it. Though none of the boys can deny it they do out of fear of Hanschen. The only boy uninterested in her is Melchior, for his eyes are focused on Wendla.

You could describe her half-asleep. You know her looks better than your Latin. Her name is Diana, named expertly for the Roman goddess of the moon. She, unlike her siblings and parents, is raven-haired and dark eyed. Old wives like your own mother say that Diana is a bastard child. You don't want to believe someone as pure and lovely as she could have been conceived through sin. Her skin is pale, not from lack of sunlight, but simply pale. Even when gasping for breath after marching with a medicine ball for hours her cheeks only tinge pink. She's a precious jewel whom shouldn't be out of breath or sore and aching, you think.

You encounter her alone one night. You have no idea why she's out alone at night. She is clothed in nothing but a thin white dress that comes up well above her knees. Her legs are covered by her stockings and small black shoes adorn her feet. Her raven hair is loose and tumbles down her ivory shoulders. Your breath catches in your throat.

Without thinking, you start reciting poetry. "She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies,
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meets in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impair'd the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress
Or softly lightens o'er her face,
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek and o'er that brow
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,—
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent."

She looks at you, startled at your sudden presence. "Moritz Stiefel?"she asks tentatively. You nod, mortified at startling her. "What are you doing here?" she ventures.

"I'm sorry," you stammer. "I saw you here alone, and I just blurted poetry."

Her lips curve into a serene smile. It was a beautiful poem, Herr Stiefel. What was it called?"

"'She Walks in Beauty' by Lord Byron," you reply.

She smiles wider. "I have heard that poem. And here I am, having listened to my foolish brother say you can barely recite Latin. But I have just heard you recite an English poem, in German, perfectly! Oh, my dearest brother Hansi, such a fool he is. Isn't he?" she giggles.

"I suppose," you dare to agree.

"Well, I should be going home. My mother will just be beside herself with worry. Will you walk me?" She extends her hand to you.

You take her hand and together you walk to the Rilows' grand house. She turns to you and places a soft kiss against your lips. You return the kiss before she pulls away.

"Will I see you again soon, Moritz?" she asks. "And will you recite poetry, oh even Latin, for me again?"

"Anything," you promise. "Gute nacht, Diana."

"Ich liebe Sie, Moritz." I love you, Moritz. She said she loved you! You kiss her again before finally letting go of her hands and leaving.

You know those awful, sticky dreams won't plague you tonight. You can still feel the tingle of her lips on yours.

You turn back to the house and whisper: "Ich liebe Sie, Diana."

Will probably be a two-shot or three-shot. Review! It'd make me happy. =)