lostinfic:Spies of Warsaw / A Passionate Woman “Betty. Is that short for something?” he asked.“Eliza
lostinfic:Spies of Warsaw / A Passionate Woman “Betty. Is that short for something?” he asked.“Elizabeth. No one ever calls me that.”“Élisabet,” he pronounced it in French on purpose, made it sound like the name of an orchid.She knew what he was doing, shaping her name intosomething that was his own, something less common perhaps, more suited to hisclass. She might have objected on principle, but she enjoyed it, like clayenjoyed the potter’s hands. She would change shape and rise from the mud to be admired.She would be Élisabet for him.(Read the fanfic) -- source link
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