001. CINDERELLA MOMENT.
AMID the wintry, cool air, beneath the honourable, infinite patterns that pass through the inky canvas, sits a young girl. Her hair, neatly pinned and twisted in a beautiful braid, falls against her shoulder, unintentionally bringing attention to the limited amount of ivory skin that peeks from her attire. Shades of burnt, orange sunsets runs through her hair, prominent, even in the serenade of the black. Her fingers lightly dance across each other, as they laid, flat against her lap. Never did her eyes leave the chattering gentleman across from her. A gentle shade of newly blossomed bluebells, they were ─ delicate, alluring. They resembled the tone of the silk dress slipped onto her shoulders, tightly embracing her thin body with warm kisses and cherishes, leaving her over the moon at how beautiful she truly felt that particular day.
Flora Becker was her name. A girl of grace and beauty ─ a girl who didn't possess much, but never once complained (aloud) nor wished for a life much more simpler.
That night, the young lady, had her first Cinderella moment. The moment she stepped through the enchanting threshold of the ballroom, (hosted for New Years) she didn't feel like the timid, soft fourteen year old ─ instead, she felt the enchanting room call her, embracing her in a sea of elegance and maturity.
Yet, there comes a time when the hand strikes 12, leaving the redhead to come to the realisation that she must return to the real world. Except, unlike Cinderella, Flora had gotten to leave with her prince charming ─ or possibly a gentleman, close to prince charming.
"So, this is where we part?" He queries, the carriage that carried the young girl and boy coming to a gradual stop.
Gazing out the window, she takes notice of her one story home, adorned by a garden of enchanting flowers that sway in the bitter air, and warm lights emitting from the window, telling her of her father's presence.
"Yes." She finally says, averting her gaze to land on the brunette boy. "Thank you for this lovely evening, Julius." She smiles, noticing how the said boy looked as if he wanted to say more but opted with the words,
"It was my pleasure, Flora." He brings the back of her hand towards his rosy lips, lightly pressing the glove that encloses it against his mouth. "Have a nice evening."
After wishing him the same, Flora slowly descends from the carriage ─ her actions a little slower than usual out of the possible chance of embarrassing herself and ruining what had been a splendid night playing an elegant, beautiful lady. With her back facing the adolescent boy, Flora finds her teeth skimming over her bottom lip before lightly biting down, simply fighting the urge to fly her arms about in glee and excitement as the events of the night flicker through her mind. Eventually the sounds of a carriage being whisked away into the night meets her ears, causing her to release a shaky breath of which she didn't realise she was holding.
Almost immediately, she lets out a squeal ─ an ear-piercing sound that almost deafens her alarmed father the moment he pulls open the front door.
"I have to say, I missed you too, engel (angel)." Wilhelm Becker naturally bellows, greeting his only daughter with a brief hug. "Did you have a wonderful time?"
"Oh, papa! The best." She enters, removing her outdoor attire and placing it in on the rack positioned near the door. Circling around the cozy home, she continues to ramble about her night.
Her words wandered into the genial air, capturing her father in such interest, he barely even acknowledged the absentminded grin that lingered on his lips as he gladly listened to each and every word that left his daughter's lips.
Although, Wilhelm Becker appeared quite intimidating and daunting to those that barely knew him ─ perhaps, as a reason of his deep, and earth-shattering voice laced with a prominent German accent, or perhaps at how he stood at a great height of 6'1, almost looming over everyone he encountered ─ he, in fact was one of kindest men that resided in the small town of Massachusetts.
He couldn't take all the credit. It'd been true that he hadn't always been the most patient, and warmest man as compared to present time. In fact some claim the German man to have been stone-cold, always spotted with a grim, maddened expression practically etched onto his bold features. Though, that all changed the moment he'd met Anastasia Moskal. Ah, yes, love! The minute he'd met the charming Russian, born from riches, the pair so obviously from different worlds, he knew she would play a significant role in his life ─ neither good nor bad, but he knew they'd cross paths for a reason.
Eventually, they created two wonderful humans. A gorgeous baby boy, graced with polished amber eyes, identical to his fathers, given the name Maxim Becker. And a few years after, a delicate baby girl, possessing eyes as perfect as the spring sky and as piercing as ice, identical to her mother's blueish eyes, graced with the name Flora Becker.
Anastasia, disowned by the wealthy, affluent Moskal family, never felt more carefree and joyous the moment she chose to run away with the headstrong man that was the love of her life. God knows what would've become of her. Perhaps, whisked away in an unhappy, arranged marriage in a home engrossed with displeasure and depression, surrounded with snobbish-like kids that would soon turn out to be much like her controlling mother wished for her grandchildren to be ─ emotionless, arrogant puppets, only existing to either marry rich or withhold the family reputation. So, cutting all ties with the family, she became Anastasia Becker, a wife, a mother, a friend embedded with her name, and soon appearing on her tombstone.
Wilhelm was rather surprised to hear of his daughter's eventful night. He wasn't sure she would have a great time surrounded by people she rarely even knew ─ she tended to cower and steer away from huge crowds, or anything that could bring attention to herself.
The dress alone, that still clings to her as one, was enough to make the girl nervously wring her wrists and crack her fingers. It'd been her mother's, she was sure. Back when she was around the redhead's age, attending balls and all sorts, almost every week, from the mere age of thirteen.
Just to pull the item out of the sacred place locked away within the home was difficult for the humble man. Each moment his cinnamon toned eyes blinked at his young girl, his mind played mean and cunning tricks on him, taunting him with the sight of Anastasia sat in front of him ─ scorching red hair cascading down her shoulders and bright blue eyes that always gleamed whenever their eyes met.
He releases a shaky breath, forcing a chuckle from his lips as his daughter waits, staring at him with naive eyes that begged him to say something after a beating minute of silence, barely even realising the glimpse of distress that passes through his expression. "Oh, mein Engel, (My angel) I'm pleased." He decides. "Your Beth came around, much earlier, wondering if you had arrived yet. I'm sure she's waiting to hear all about it."
"Beth!" She suddenly gasps, jumping up before rushing across the minature room on the tip of her toes.
She makes it her mission to grab everything she could to tackle the brutal frigidness that fills the outdoor air, in a hasty manner that was rather amusing to witness in Wilhelm's position.
"And where are you going, young lady?"
"May I please visit them, just for a while. I have something to tell them." She pleads.
"This thing cannot wait?"
Flora shakes her head. Purposefully jutting her bottom lip in a form of a pout, Flora watches amusedly as her father squints his eyes at her known habit, and his habit for falling for her attempt at a puppy look.
"Oh, alright." He gives in, the brownish, old book making its way onto his lap and in the embrace of his fingertips. "But quick, before it gets incredibly dark."
She beams, "Ich liebe dich! (I love you.)" She calls, already darting off way before the old man could reiterate her words.
Leaving the comfort of her modest home, the girl immediately regrets stepping out into the harsh, wintry air still in the dress she'd attended the ball in. Her hair had soon fallen out of the flower enthralled waterfall of a braid, causing her unruly ginger curls to dance and pull against the wind's strong hold. Her teeth begins to chatter, her cheeks turning a rosy tint leaving the porcelain skin numb. Her feet soon take off under her, starting in a hurry towards the cosily home not too far from hers.
Flora had no doubt in her mind that she looked a little strange. Her scarf is tightly wrapped around her neck, and a little over her head, with the intention of heating up her exposed neck and her sensitive ears. Not only that, but her hands are tucked under both of her armpits, which perhaps wasn't safe, for the young girl was jogging in a hasty pace meaning if she had indeed tripped, her hands wouldn't fall out in time. Yet, with Flora being Flora she hadn't a thought in her mind about the consequences of her actions. She was just focused on how cold it was.
Flora huffs and puffs. Clouds of warm air passes through her lips, merging with the lethal iciness that surrounds her, trying its best to fight against her thin cloak. She continues to run, shifting her arms to pick up her dress from trailing on the grimy pathway leading up to the familiar residence. As she gets nearer and nearer, she slightly makes out the voices of who she assumed to be Jo and Amy brightly hollering over one and another.
Twisting the door knob in an eager manner, Flora hardly stops to question just as to why the door wasn't locked ─ instead, her feet drag her to the one person she longed to see, almost as if it had a mind of it's own.
"Bethie, you wouldn't believe ─ Oomph! "
Flora lets out a groan, one that brings a humorous smirk on the feminine face of a certain frizzy-haired troublemaker, lingering across the room. Flora's hands rub at the lines that start to form on her forehead as she gradually looks up in confusion. She was pretty sure she had entered the doorway, and hadn't ran into a wall (again) given she was familiarised with the affectionate, welcoming home of the March's.
"Are you ok?" He asks. So, not a wall.
"Oh, uhm, I ─ Yes, thank you." Flora returns, her startled gaze flickering from his hand resting cautiously on her forearm to the fresh grassy green colour that swirled in his pretty eyes, then again.
Uh-oh.
From those eyes alone came a rush of nerves that coursed through her body and left her petite hands clammy.
Here's the thing, Flora's heart shaped, rose tinted glasses meant she saw things a lot more dearer as compared to many others. Her trouble was she fell in love with every pretty thing she laid her eyes on ─ the bare trees that only made an appearance later in the year, the pearly white snow, the stars, the moon, Jo's handwritten letters she would recieve every year on her birthday, and more importantly boys she was so sure were out of her league.
His face was beyond admirable, both sharp yet gentle in various places. His wild hair had been perfectly tamed that particular day, sitting just above his eyes in loose brownish curls. Everything about his boyish yet mature appearance spoke of such gentleness merged with a hint mischief ─
"Flora!"
Flora immediately looks away, shifting her entire attention on the soft-hearted, sandy haired girl beaming at her from her position on the miniature sofa.
Forgetting entirely of the unidentified presence in the room, Flora bounds over to her friend, her rushed steps revealing the excitement that suddenly ignites.
"Hello," she greets, collapsing on top of the giggling Beth.
Marmee glances briefly at the sweet smile adorning her daughter's face at the mere appearance of the Becker child as she nurses her eldest daughter's ankle. Flora moves to drape her arm over her shoulder, tilting her head to accidentally land roughly on top of Beth's.
"Ouch." She quietly sounds, briefly glancing up to exchange an amused look of annoyance at the redhead.
"Sorry." Flora winces.
"How are you, dear?" Marmee asks, reaching to the side in an attempt to bring the girl closer. Her lips collide with the side of her head, gently patting down the frizzy red hair that simply refused to stay still. "I had the impression you were returning with the girls."
"Oh, Marmee ─ didn't you hear? Her prince charming swooped her up into his arms and ushered them away to his carriage." Jo taunts, cunningly acting out a scene as she talked expressively about the 'love-birds.'
"I wouldn't say swooped..." Flora mumbles, catching Meg's pointed look before she slightly winces at Amy's unintentional pressure on her ankle.
Amy gasps, "The Holloway boy?!" Beth lightly laughs at Flora's blush. "Isn't he just dreamy?" She sighs, clasping her hands together.
"Far from it." Jo quips, "Also, he's an awful dancer, his pretty face simply makes up for it." Flora's head whips towards the tomboyish girl, her lips slightly parted in shock. She gives a small, defensive Hey, to which Jo simply shrugs. So maybe, Julius Holloway wasn't the best dancer to grace the earth, but it was the fact that even despite the known truth of his abilities he still pranced around with much confidence and glee, that he rarely cared for other's opinions or how silly he may look.
"He's not so bad." Beth reasons, no doubt coming to her friend's defence, leaving Flora with a satisfied, cheeky grin and Jo gaping at her younger sister.
"Oh, my sweet Beth ─ not you too." Jo whines, gingerly squeezing her way in between Beth and Flora. Desperately clinging onto her sister's arm, Jo begins her dramatics. Creating such chaos squished in-between the pair, that Laurie, standing not too far from the joyous trio, gets wrapped up in the unique interaction between the five girls.
His pinkish lips slightly twitch, portraying a small and genial smile. Though, despite this absentminded action, he couldn't help the vacant feeling that swallowed him whole. He felt numb. On the other side of the glass, simply peering in on the joy that circled around each girl and woman's head in a form of a halo whilst he remains in an isolated bubble, not knowing, and perhaps never getting to know, the grand feeling of having a mother present or siblings for that matter.
Almost sensing the familiar cloud of insecurity and longing, Flora finds her gaze shifting towards the brown haired boy again. This time his gaze isn't focused on her. He's simply observing. Observing how Marmee disappears into the kitchen, not without a kind smile to one of her children as she passes. Observing how each of their speeches never really sounded alone — it was chaotic, loud, overlapping yet filled with such happiness that no riches could ever bring.
Flora was no genius. If anything she was rather oblivious 70% of the time, but from the look in his eyes alone. She knew exactly how she felt. The moment she'd been graced with the kind appearance of the March's on her doorstep, arriving to give their condolences — she had always longed for a family like theirs. A complete family.
Laurie didn't expect intense shades of azure staring back at him with an inquisitive gaze when he turns to face Flora. Nor did he expect for the girl to keep contact. Instead her lips shift from a straight line to a curve, with hints of not so much pity but understanding.
"You're unusually quiet. We want to hear all about your night." Jo smirks, pinching at Flora's cheeks. The redhead swats her hands away, already feeling her cheeks start to heat at everyone's burning gaze. Gossiping to Beth solely in the comfort of her room was one thing but having to share the (distasteful, as Jo would describe it) moment that left her rather giddy at the end of the night was another.
"Just so you'll tease me?" Flora quips.
"Certainly." Jo replies, "Besides, as your big brother, it's my job to care after my little sisters."
"You're only older by a year." Flora retorts.
"Uh, don't change the subject." Meg demands, "I would rather hear about Flora's first kiss, than the both of you —"
"MEG!"
"FLORA!"
"Oops."
"First what — !"
"Aw!"
"How did you —" Flo queries, purposefully ignoring the burning, contrasting gazes from the other three March sisters.
"Oh, please," Meg begins, "The both of you spent the entire evening in each other's presence." However, it was her next words that caused Jo, Amy and Beth to spring out from their seats. "Plus, I saw it."
As Meg starts to tell it from her point of view, Flora was almost sure she was as red as a tomato. Sunken in her seat as she watches the mixture of different reactions. It was like a gushing waterfall the minute Meg had stopped rambling. Queries and awes flood the room, varied from "How romantic" (no doubt from Amy and Beth, and even the occasional comments from Marmee) and "How dreadful." from none other than Jo to whom indicated that she was due to teach that Holloway boy a lesson — she wasn't, surely (even though it was best not to underestimate the second March child) but Flora and Laurie found it quite amusing.
Well, that was before each of them turned towards her once again, demanding to tell them from her point of view.
"OK, girls, that's quite enough. I'm sure Flo will tell you all when she's ready —" Marmee to the rescue! "after me of course." She adds, igniting various complaints to erupt once again at her mother's humour. "Flo, scone or ice?" Marmee calls over the noise.
"No sore ankles this time, Marmee." She replies, taking the scone that was handed out to her.
"And, Laurie, how are your ankles? Do you need ice?"
"No, thank you, ma'am." Laurie lightly laughs, he too, accepting the welcoming gift disguised as a scone from the approaching, caring woman.
"Who's he?" Flora whispers to Jo. Her voice was unusually quiet. She didn't want to come off as rude, or ignorant but she couldn't help the sudden found curiosity.
"Oh, Teddy?" Jo says, briefly glancing back at the unaware teenager. "He's my new friend. We met him at the ball. Come, I think it's best if I introduce the two of you." Jo decides, enclosing her warm hand around Flora's wrist. Completely unaware of the alarmed expression that lingers on the Becker girl's face, Jo pulls her up with her.
"Wait, Jo, I —"
"Teddy, I would like you to meet Flora Becker. The girl I was referring to earlier." Jo chirps, gesturing between the two. Flora's eyebrows crease at Jo's vague words. The thought of the two talking about her made her feel slightly worried for she hadn't the slightest idea what could've been the reason of subject. It was always like Jo to have Flora's best interest at heart ─ she'd grown quite protective the minute she had met the timid girl, cowered away behind her father's leg at the sight of the four little girls and a beautiful woman on their doorstep several years ago. Ever since that moment Jo had vowed to her mother to protect her, "She's lost much more than we can imagine, Jo. Be kind, and patient with her." So, of course, Jo kept her promise ─ she simply wanted the best for Flora. She knew how much the redhead wished she could branch out to new people, connect with them, she just didn't know how. "Flo, meet Theodore Laurence, or just Laurie, as he insists."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Flora." Laurie smiles. He lightly kisses the back of her out stretched hand, causing Jo to whack his shoulder disapprovedly. "Ow, Jo. I was being polite."
"Mhm." Jo hums.
At the sound of Flora's soft giggle, Laurie's eyes train on her face. It'd seemed that staring had been their only firm way of communicating ─ whether it was one of them sneaking a glance at the other, or the rare occasion in which they eyes met simultaneously. There was something familiar about her appearance that Laurie found himself eager to figure it out. It had been troubling his mind ever since he'd witnessed the flaming, red hair fly past her as she staggered into the room.
Time had soon passed, and Laurie had found himself warming up to the several sisters ─ even managing to sneak a few words in with the notably hushed crimson haired girl. He found it a little strange at how swiftly her whole demeanour shifted, ever since they were introduced to one another. He couldn't help but think that perhaps Flora didn't like him as much, even after Beth informed him on the fact that she wasn't most unreserved person to those that she wasn't familiarised with. The last thing Laurie wanted to do was make Flora uncomfortable. He knew how much she meant to this family ─ hell, he knew it the minute she tripped into the room, surrounding the room in utter bliss that Laurie was almost sure she was another relative of theirs.
"You're leaving?" Amy pouts, her big blue eyes peering up at Flora as she shrugs on her cloak. "So soon? You only just got here."
"You aren't staying over?" Beth adds, wrapping her in a warm hug.
Flora shakes her head, "Not this time, I'm afraid. It's late and papa's expecting me back home. But I'll return tomorrow, I promise." She says, wrapping her pinkies around both Beth and Amy's fingers.
Marmee alongside her children take it in turns to say goodbye to both Flora and Laurie. The pair being wrapped up in a huddle of lively chatter and many scones to take home to their families, that they were almost sure they would never get the chance to actually reach the door. Laurie is a little surprised, when Marmee pulls him aside. He was completely unaware at how easy it was for the older woman to read him ─ how much he yearned for a mother, or perhaps siblings.
"Don't be afraid to come back, anytime." She tells him, observing as the corner of his lips slowly lift up, before he gives her the smallest of nods. "Will you make sure she gets home safely?" Mrs March asks, hardly liking the thought of Flora walking home all by herself, even if she didn't live too far.
Laurie looks over to the said girl, "I will."
author's note: i didn't plan for this chapter to be that long, whoops! but i hope you liked it. i don't speak german at all, so please if you see any mistakes, don't hold back on correcting me :) this chapter was pretty much a way of showing the dynamic between flora & the march sisters. the NEXT chapter, however, will centre around laurie & flora entirely (which i'm excited for) !!