Laurie Laurence x Reader
Summary: Seeing Laurie for the first time since you told him you loved him.
Warnings: None
Author: grownup-thebeautiful on Tumblr!
Word Count:1658
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You see him before he sees you. It's in the most unlikely of places, but knowing the two of you it seems about right. An old bookstore on the corner of the street you used to meet up in. It's your first time back here in a long time. You decided not to come here until you were either with him again or over him. You're neither one, but you couldn't force yourself to stay away any longer.
You haven't seen him since. Well, since you embarrassingly and drunkenly confessed your feelings to him. In your usual fashion, it had been messy and loud. Fortunately, everyone else at the party had been concerned with their own affairs to notice your frantic exit.
You've been staring. Luckily, you know Laurie is completely oblivious, preferring the company of the poetry he's looking through.
You look back to the shelf in front of you, shaking hands clutching your skirts.
Then there's a hand on your back and Laurie's saying your name. You can't breathe. Coming back to yourself, you turn around to face him. His hand leaves your back, but you still feel it, a phantom touch burning your skin.
"Laurie. I was hoping I wouldn't see you." Well. There goes any chance of keeping him around. You hadn't meant to say it like that.
A hurt look crosses his face. "Am I that unpleasant?"
"No! No, of course not. You know that. I was just wishing for more time." An iffy recovery, but you'll take it.
"To rid yourself of my name and likeness, I'm sure."
You give an awkward laugh and reply, "No, on the contrary. I was hoping to find a way to compose myself for any future meetings."
"Goodness, how come?"
"You don't remember my appallingly free spoken speech about love and other vices."
"It's been in my mind almost every day since." He falters slightly, his eyes dashing to a bookcase behind you before coming back to meet yours. How are his eyes beautiful? How did you never notice them before? "I've missed your company at nights. Nothing seems quite as entertaining without your quick commentary."
"Ah. The dashing wit. There it is. Glad I didn't scare it off," you smile.
"You could never. Have you gotten yourself into any trouble recently?"
"Oh, you know me. All full of trouble."
"I know you to be quite a bit of trouble."
"That's just when you're around."
"Hm. Well, what trouble are you getting into tonight?"
"I think I have to go to one of the Morris' parties," you say with a grimace. It's not that they are bad people. The Morris' just had a questionable reputation when it came to the company they kept.
"Care for some company?"
You can feel the smile lighting up your face. "I would love some."
~~~~~~~~~
"Are you okay? You don't seem to be enjoying yourself." Laurie murmurs to you, stepping closer towards you. It's true. You aren't.
It started out okay. There weren't a lot of people you knew, but you had Laurie so it didn't matter. Then he got called away by someone, and you were left standing alone by the window, a full glass in your hand. You're not sure how long you stand there.
"I'm fine," you reply with your favorite smile.
"Don't do that to me."
"Do what?"
"You can fool everyone else with that fake smile and say you're having a good time. It won't work on me. I know you. I don't think it's fair that you can put up your walls as easy as you can. Don't do that with me. You know I won't judge. I'll listen to whatever you have to say. Please." He says your name like a plead.
"Okay," you say simply. A deep breath in. "I don't want to be here. I stopped wanting to as soon as you went to see your friends. I know it's selfish, but I just.... I want you for myself right now."
"All you had to do was ask." He takes your hand and leads you through the party, nodding his goodbyes and speaking for the both of you.
He leads you down winding streets and cobblestone alleys until he gets to a bright yellow door. After unlocking the door he shoulders it open and motions for your to follow up the narrow staircase.
It's a mess. There are stacks of books and papers all over the place. In the corner, there's a desk covered with letters, opened and unopened.
"This is your apartment?"
"Yes."
"Of course you would choose the most poetic way to live."
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Papers strewn on the floor. Books crowding the shelves. I assume you have a pile of candles somewhere?" He has the decency to look a little sheepish. "I thought so."
"I don't think you can judge. You live the same way I do."
"Laurie, you've never been to my apartment."
"I can assume."
"Right." He goes into the kitchen to make tea and you wander the apartment.
"Have you finally learned how to make tea, Teddy?"
"Have you finally learned how to pour it?"
"That was your fault. I stand by that."
"There's no reality where that was my fault. You spilled tea on me. Very hot tea, I may add."
"Yes, well it worked. I'm here in your apartment, and I taught you better than to have me make tea."
"Clever girl."
~~~~~~~~
You wake up with him beside you. He had given his firm assurances that no one would be entering his apartment. Not that it would be a problem. Nothing has happened. You two had fallen asleep on one of his decorative and, frankly, uncomfortable couches. But you had felt safe with him, having forgotten just how easy he was to be around.
"Then by loves torturing embrace, I'll rise into the morning light."
"Something waits for you in the fog?" you ask, motioning to the window where fog clings to the streetlights.
"Only love of the masses. Not a day goes by where I am not tortured and plagued by the swooning of others," he says, his voice muffled as he pulls a vest on over his shirt. You roll your eyes at his display of helplessness.
"For all the time you spend on yourself." You get up to help him, swatting his hands away and doing the golden buttons on his waistcoat. "Oh, poor you. The unbearable weight of being loved."
"Better than the weight of being hated," he says pointedly, nudging you with his shoulder. "Besides, it's not like I wish Ill on any of them. They are not the opposition."
"Is the opposition love itself?"
"Only for me."
"We'll then I'll join you," you say, fixing your skirts. You never changed out of them last night.
"No dashing man has fought for your attention?"
"You said so yourself. I've made sure that none look my way," you say as you straighten his cuffs and ruffle his hair.
"If you have to go, I guess I'll let you."
"I'd rather be here," he says mournfully.
"Good. I must confess, I don't know why. It can't be my good nature that keeps you here."
He makes a noise of agreement and kisses your forehead. You're too stunned to say anything. "I suppose not. Maybe it's the fact that my family thinks you're a good influence. A nice, proper girl."
You let out a snort. "Proper. How strange. From the times I've met them they aren't necessarily the picture of proper."
"Except for Amy," he amends. "They are, in their own right, proper though."
"Naturally. Except for Amy. She's who I want to be when I grow up. Her and Jo. And of course they're proper. I've never met a more good tempered, beautifully talented, incredibly polite family."
"Come now. Don't overdo it."
"I only wish I was," you say without sorrow.
"Don't worry. You'll catch up with them when you grow up."
"I'm older than you."
"That means you're closer to growing up," he laughs.
"And closer to dying an old maid."
"Impossible. Someone is bound to pick you from the crowd. One of these days I'm going to ask for a Miss and they'll tell me you're a Mrs."
"Who's the mysterious They? And why did I not tell you I was getting married."
"Obviously I ran away when I saw you in love with someone else. And you didn't tell me because you were heartbroken that I left. Am I wrong?"
"Not entirely. I'd much prefer a future where you stay and we fall in love with no one else together."
"What do you think of marriage?" asks Laurie.
"Whose marriage?"
"Ours. I can't think of any other way to spend my life. You have been the source of my joy, my pain, and my longing ever since you spilled tea on my favorite waistcoat and blamed it on me." You're stricken by his words. In many ways, they mirror the way you feel.
"You're loud and impolite and you're never on time. You slouch and drink too much when you do.Only a fool would be tempted into a life like that with you, my love." You fight to keep the shaking out of your voice. "But you're so kind and you care deeply, more than anyone else. You don't underestimate me when I'm at my worst. You make me laugh when I feel like crying. "
"So, where do you stand?" His nerves come through his voice.
"I stand beside you. As a foolish, love-stricken wife. Don't you have somewhere to be?" you ask, hoping he isn't missing anything important.
"They can wait," he says, coming closer to you. "I have to start the rest of my life."