Rosalie

Bonjour.
Etant très mauvaise en Anglais, j'aimerais savoir si vous pourriez m'aider à traduire cette fic que j'ai trouver sur internet.
Merci d'avance.

Hesitation


"André?"
He turned to look at her, hoping his sight wouldn't falter again. He backed away as her hand came up to brush his hair from his face, her palm lightly caressing his cheek tenderly, before resting below his blind eye.
"I'm truly sorry, André."
"Oscar...?"
His hand rose up to cover hers.
"This was my fault," she started, her tears beginning to fall again, "I'm always asking...no, forcing you to do things you don't want to do, and now, when you ask me..."
"Oscar, don't..."
"Please forgive me..." she whispered, her hand freeing itself from his grasp and softly gliding to the base of his neck as the other released the grip it held on the remains of her blouse, closing the door behind them before moving to his shoulder. She startled André as she raised herself up, her lips close to his. "...for my selfishness," she continued before her lips met his.
André knew it was wrong, but allowed her lips to linger on his for an elated moment before ending the kiss, pushing her away as he looked into her tearful eyes still filled with fear...she was still afraid of him.
"Oscar, not like this."
"Not like how, André?" she asked as she lay her head on his chest.
"This is not how I wanted it to be..."
"Does it matter? After all, the result is still the same, is it not?"
He cupped her chin, gently lifting her face to look up at him, "It matters to me, Oscar. If I had continued...even now, we would both regret our actions in the morning."
She pulled away from him, turning as she headed back to her bed, "There would be no regrets..."

Oscar stopped, the impact of her own words finally sinking in through her turbulent emotions.

No regrets...

Had she really just offered to her friend that which he, in a fit of what could only be called madness, had tried to take from her only a few moments before, and she had fought him then, fought him with everything she had. What was wrong with her?

But it wasn't madness...it was love, he had said he loved her.

Would she have done the same? She loved Fersen, but she had never thought, never dreamed...or had she. Wasn't it a similar madness that had overtaken her, had convinced her to wear a dress and give up her life as a man for a night, just for that one chance to dance and be held in the arms of the man she loved, and it had cost her everything, the chance to see him, be near him, be a friend to him. Hadn't André's actions, though more violent, been the same.

She shook her head; finally letting it fall wearily as she waited for André to say something, do something, anything...even if it was to simply leave. Any response was better than the unbearable silence that was forcing her to question her thoughts and actions.
Then she saw it, that piece of fabric André had ripped from her blouse. As she bent to pick it up her mind replayed the sound of her blouse tearing and with it how her will to fight had crumbled.
"Oscar?"
André hadn't moved, was still standing beside the door waiting for Oscar to act first, expecting her to ask him to leave when she retrieved the material he had dropped when his heart had filled with disgust at himself for what he had done, for the hurt he had caused her.
"How will I explain this to Nanny?" Oscar commented fingering the flimsy cloth, forcing herself to laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Certainly she will wonder how I could tear my shirt in such a fashion."
"I...I will dispose of the shirt before she wakes," André responded as he walked up behind Oscar, "She has no need to know...unless..."
André couldn't bring himself to say that Oscar had every right to tell his grandmother or the General about his inappropriateness. With a single word she could have him punished for his momentary lack of self-control.
"I said there would be no regrets..." she whispered as she turned to him.
"I don't think I...there is too much at stake, Oscar, I can not make you that promise."
"I have already made the decision for you..." she whispered as her arms circled about his neck and brought their lips together again. André groaned as his body fought his mind. She had taken his choice away from him as he had done to her earlier while taking away any fault, any blame that was his. He broke the kiss, looking at her with trepidation, then with wariness he rarely used with Oscar, he gently returned his lips to hers, giving in and allowing his heart to guide his actions again.
As André made the kiss more familiar, it was Oscar's turn to step back as confusion then shock over took her, her hand rising, her fingers barely resting on her lips.
"Oscar, what is it?"
She continued to back away as she stared at him, too stunned to speak at first but finally the words came out, "You've...you've kissed me before!"
He looked at her with equal confusion, "I kissed you a few moments ago."
"Before tonight...I've felt your lips touch mine like this before, but when...when did you...why can't I remember?"
André stared back at her trying to make sense of her words, when suddenly he realized what she was trying to remember, something he had thought she could never know.
"Oscar, I can explain..."
"When!?"
"The fight at the bar...the one we lost..."
"When I was drunk?!"
"When you were asleep...," he answered, ashamed at himself for his weakness at the time, "I knew why you were drinking, I understand too well but under the gentle light of the stars you were so beautiful, lying peacefully in my arms as I carried you home. I was proud of you, for how long you had survived that fight, but I was also worried."
Oscar sat down on the edge of the bed, her mind trying to comprehend all she was hearing.
"Worried? About me?"
"You looked so fragile, your face covered in bruises and blood. Oscar..."
André slowly sat beside her, scared she would hit him, or run but she stayed where she was. Cautiously, he raised his hand to her, brushing blond hair out of her blue eyes. Like a startled child, she looked at him, but didn't back away.
"Oscar, I would give anything to never see you like that again. To never have to see you hurt by anyone, physically or emotionally. It destroys me each time."
"André, I know...I feel the same way about you. Friends..."
"I'm not simply your friend, Oscar! I haven't been for a long time."
Oscar looked away, thinking as her hand returned to the top of her torn blouse, bringing the two pieces of delicate fabric back together.
"You were jealous..."
"Jealous?"
"When I wore a dress for him."
"Yes...I meant what I said then, I didn't want you to look beautiful, I had hoped you wouldn't, but I knew in my heart there is no one more lovely..."
His hand caressed her cheek, bringing her attention back to him. His thumb rubbed her lower lip gently as he pulled her closer to him, "Oscar, there never will be..."
Gently, so afraid he might frighten her again, he allowed himself to steal another kiss, amazed that she allowed it, realizing emotionally she was to weak to fight it. He continued his kisses, making his way slowly to her ear, whispering, "Will there be no regrets?"
Wavering, her voice echoed the words he had spoken earlier, "I can not make you that promise..."
Remembering her reply from before, thinking how she had taken away his choice once again, he shook his head and looked at her.
"You wish I were him, right now at least?" André asked as he began to remove his coat.
Oscar looked at him, confused at this change in discussion, "What do you mean? Fersen would never have tried, never have kissed me..."
Working on his vest, André looked at her with a smirk that sent a spike of irritation in Oscar, "That's your problem. Fersen wouldn't, but haven't you ever wondered what if he had?"
"Tried what you had?"
"Acknowledged you!"
Oscar's anger began to flare, "I've never had such thoughts! I know his heart belongs to Antoinette!" she said as she watched André begin to remove his cravat, "Just what are you doing, André?"
André fingered the cravat in his hand, checking the length of the material, then looked at Oscar.
"I have a way for us both to fulfill our fantasies..."
"Fantasies?" Oscar said as she watched André approach her again. She began to back away further on the bed, not realizing her escape was helping André's plans, "and just what are you going to do with that...you're not...You wouldn't dare tie me up!"
"I'll blindfold you, so you can see whoever you want touching you, but when I take this off I only want you to see me."
At Oscar's startled look, he added, "But if you want me to tie you up...I'm sure I can find something to use for that as well."
The glare he received more than confirmed that humor would not work at this point. He had frightened her again.
"Damn it Oscar, just trust me," he replied as he sat on the bed beside her, "I will not hurt you."
For one frightened moment, André waited for Oscar's reply as she stared up at him. Finally she nodded her acceptance, closing her eyes and allowing him to proceed. He slowly tied the blindfold in place, being careful not to snag or pull any of her hair. When he was finished, he pulled Oscar close to him, holding her, hoping the embrace would calm her. He was about to speak, when he remembered his voice would cross the boundary of the fantasy the white cloth created for Oscar. Breathing in, capturing the scent of her hair, he allowed himself a chance to calm down before proceeding.
"An...?" Oscar spoke before she felt André's arm move, a single finger touching her lips. Why was she going through with this, she wondered. She knew it was André touching her, she wouldn't allow herself to think otherwise, and yet, he wouldn't let her speak to tell him so.
As she waited, she felt André's hand descend slowly down her neck to the hollow of her throat, then the brush of his hand as it moved across her collar bone, bare from the torn blouse which hung limply off her shoulder, causing her body to shake at his delicate touch. His hand continued down, his fingers running lightly over her silk-covered breast, causing her to stiffen rather than relax. Chastising herself for her body's automatic reaction to this, she forced herself to relax, resting gently against André's chest. Then his hand was gone, and she felt the sash around her waist loosen before falling around her.
Soon she felt his head rest on her shoulder, his hand moving again, this time joined by the other as they moved over her chest to undo the remaining buttons of her blouse.
With the last button released, Oscar felt her skin burn, blushing as the fabric separated, exposing the flesh of her chest and shoulders to the cool air of her room. André's fingertips touched her neck as her hair was brushed away and over her shoulder, then the warmth of his breath just before his lips pressed gently and briefly below the hairline at the back of her neck. Another kiss followed, and another as he gradually kissed along her back tracing the ridge of her backbone as the blouse was lowered down her arms, then removed completely.
Oscar exhaled the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding as André pulled away. She noted André's movements as the bed shifted beneath her, his hands returning as he carefully lowered her onto the bed, her head resting safely on the pillow. She blushed again as her mind registered the fact that André was now looking at her, seeing part of that which proved her to be a woman, and self-consciously she made to cover herself before him, ashamed. Still not saying a word, he lifted her hands up and away from her chest, kissing each of her hands delicately before placing them at her sides, his own hands moving to her waist. Oscar could only assume he liked what he saw, and blushed even more.
A moment more, his hands pulled away, then movement on the bed again, Oscar noted, and this time André was moving toward the foot of the bed. She felt his hands grab one foot then another as he removed her shoes, her stockings following soon after. His hands slowly moved up her legs again, stopping just below her knees, and she realized he was undoing the lower buttons on her pants, and her mind flashed to when his hands had been at her waist. Had he already undone the buttons at the top. With a gentle tug, she received her answer as André attempted to remove her pants, the material pulling away easily from her waist but stopping quickly as her pants reached her hips. A hand at the small of her back lifted her slightly, and with another pull, the article of clothing easily moved down her long legs.
André's hand left her back, and more movement, then there was nothing. Oscar lay on the bed, her body exposed to André, yet he hadn't touched her. She waited, but still nothing. Had he left?