Romans & histoires Read Like A Historian

I missed winter, regardless of the fact I was susceptible to the cold. “I never knew you read books, you seem to know a lot about history.” “I don't read everytime, only the ones that tickle my fancy.” “ I play around with books in Derrick's study.” He replied. “You should study history more often.” “History is not my thing.” “I feel it unfair the owners of the story don't get to say their own side.” “Imagine someone else telling your story or my story to the world.” “Someone writing about a life that was never thiers.” “ A life they never lived.”

The historian threw her green eyes and maintained a profoundly silent posture. — She's just like that, you can't blame yourself either for giving in to some of that woman's whims. – Lauren whispered leaning back in her seat. Ursel swallowed hard, thinking it pretty serious that Lauren would presume her meddling in the situation, but the historian gave him a slight reassuring smile and focused on munching on her favorite bagels. They had a lot to think about that day, wouldn't waste his time on conspiracy theories.

Mr. Fren leans forward with both hands pressed firmly on his desk in front of him, shoulders squared as he waits for students to take their seat. His desk is neatly arranged, with a small nameplate reading “Mr. Fren– History” on it and a stack of books besides the nameplate, including titles such as The Roman Empire: A Very Short Introduction, The Silk Roads, Guns, Germs, and Steel by Jared Diamond, and The Peloponnesian War by Donald Kagan. A black mug with the phrase “History is written by those who survive” sits nearby, alongside a pen holder filled with pens and pencils.

His tone was slow, measured, each word carrying intention. Kaplan spoke steadily, recounting the lecture with careful precision. He outlined Dr. Mahisar’s descriptions of the ancient civilization, the rise and fall of its rulers, and the myths woven into its history. His voice remained measured, almost clinical, each detail delivered with scholarly accuracy rather than personal reflection.

I’d never met anyone who could make history feel so alive. "It’s incredible," I said, interrupting him gently. "You really bring it all to life. I feel like I’m there, in the court, watching it all unfold." He paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Really? You’re not bored?" "Bored? Rami, I’m captivated," I assured him. "It’s like you have a direct line to the past." He smiled, a genuine, unguarded smile that lit up his face. "I guess I just really like history," he admitted, a hint of shyness creeping back into his voice. "It’s always been my escape."

I asked once we're both settled on my study table. "The History is quite long— alright, it was really long. It was hard to memorize it. I'm not used to long reading, so I think I need some help on how to study it..." "I'll teach you how to summarize it with only the key points, so you wouldn't have to memorize it all. That's quite exhausting, so better not do it," I said. "Here, this is how I summarize long texts..."

He was good at what he does and when I say good I mean better than most people I have ever met. Breathing in a sharp intake of air, I drew back the book I was reading through before he walked in. “A history of how the domain come to form”. I opened it again and continued reading from where I stopped, following the words line by line to make sure I didn't miss what I was reading to find.

I whispered, my hand sliding up her back, feeling the warm skin where the dress cut low. It felt weirdly vulnerable to talk about it. Usually, my life was about being the strongest guy in the room. Admitting I had quiet parts felt like showing a weakness. But with her, it didn't feel like that. "I read," I admitted, "Old stuff. History, mostly. I have a collection of books in the back of the library that belonged to my grandfather. They aren't about power or war. They’re just stories about how things used to be. Sometimes I go back there just to get away from the noise of everyone wanting something from me."

"You can wait by the door." He nodded, taking up position near the entrance while I ran my fingers along leather-bound spines until I found the volume I'd been reading yesterday. The worn book chronicled the history of royal law enforcement beyond the boundaries of the city itself—information I desperately needed if I was going to be an effective ruler rather than merely a crowned figurehead.

Lord Hunt spoke with his back to her. "I honestly just enjoy learning about the history of towns like Willow Creek. They are little bits of the past that people have nearly forgotten existed. I don't look for profit in telling the stories I learn, I just feel like those stories should be told instead of being forgotten. There are so many details that are lost to time, it never truly tells the whole story to just read a generalization from a history book," Charlotte explained. She was being sincere and truthful; history truly was her passion.