+Author's note
Requested by Inesalexandra1995!
Why does he not marry?
It was a question that often recurred among many of his guests and neighbors, and to you as well.
He was a strapping gentleman. With a handsome face, a medical licence and a wage that was more than decent.
The thought of marriage had apparently never crossed his mind, or rather, ignored. For many of his friends have inquired of the subject, only to have it waved away from the doctor.
Dr. Jospeh Heilburger had tended to his daily chores for more years than he cared to remember. But it soon grew evident that he found the work tedious, especially when it came to long hours at day as a doctor, and even longer hours at night handling chores.
And for the doctor to take care of the house so large on his own, was a question. Fortunately, it was a question with a very simple answer.
The answer?
That was where you came along.
As the maid of the stern German doctor, you were assigned to most of the housework chores, also including meals and other nessessities. Such as tending to his guests, and the occassional deliveries he sent you off on.
It didn't take long for you to realize how strict the German was. His schedule was almost clockwork; and you quickly learned to work according to it.
Meals were done seperately, and there was hardly ever reason for the doctor to call for you. You handled the housework, watered the plants and had already memorized his habits, placing the cup of tea at his desk at 8 in the evening every day.
As a result, there was no need for conversation. You never needed to open your mouth, save perhaps for yawning or sneezing.
And with the doctor keeping to himself most of the time..
Well..
You were quite sure you would have forgotten to speak were it not for the milkman and the packages that were seldom delivered to the house.
It was the same each day. The doctor would have breakfast, read in his study then take himself over to his clinic, come back for some supper, read in his study and soon ready himself for slumber.
For you, it was house work. Make food, clean here, clean there until it was time for you to sleep.
+++
One morning, a knock on the door caught your attention. Ruffling your laced maid dress, and straightening the laced head band on your head, you headed out and answered the door.
A long package was carefully held by a man.
"Dr. Heilburger Wohnsitz?"
(Dr. Heilbuger residence?)
"Ja"
You signed a slip of paper, and the delivery man gave a tip of his hat and left.
Turning back inside the house, you walked upstairs into the doctor's study.
'Probably some medical equipment'
+++
It was one evening, after you had washed the dishes, you looked up from the sink to the grandfather clock, and saw that it was 7:52.
Remembering the doctor's paticular fondness for tea at this time of day, you looked through the cabinets to make some black tea.
Adding a dollop honey and a slice of dried orange, you walked up the dark stairs, when a faint wisp of a noise caught your attention.
'Noise..?'
As you walked further up the stairs, the strange noise grew louder, and you realized..
It was a violin playing.
You froze in your steps, the violin gave a shrill high note until it gave a raspy drawl, plucking it's notes up and down, fabricating a strange but pleasant song.
Walking in further, you saw the door to the study slightly ajar, and through it, you saw the doctor facing the window, playing his violin as he gazed out into the dark evening view.
Your eyes couldn't peel themselves off of Dr. Heilburger. You had never seen the master ever commit to something so out of his studious boundries, that you almost wondered if the same man you served was playing the wooden instrument.
Facing down, you saw the package delivered earlier opened on the ground, revealing an empty violin case.
Looking up, you saw the doctor's reflection on the window, and saw that his brows were furrowed in a concentrated frown, working his way through a bittersweet melody.
Turning around, you sat behind the door, mesmorized by the performance.
And the cup of tea in your hands lied forgotten and cold.
+++
It had become a regular occurrance for the doctor to play the violin. Every night after supper, the doctor would head upstairs to play a song.
The songs he would play would remind you of dark wood, or a fire crackling. Some would make you want to quicken your pace in joy, and others brought you down into the earth, shakled among the day's woes.
It brought a significant change to hear the violin play. You would catch a tune while you did the dishes, and there were more evenings where the tea you brought up ended up cold.
You would sneak behind the door, peeking through the crack and gazed at the doctor's reflection playing.
And it was at times like these that you saw the doctor's face. Not as the blank mask you were used to seeing, but as an artisan. Painted with emotions that told a story with no words, that brought upon you curiousity and wonder.
It was not seldom when you found yourself lost in his exclusive concerts, with you as his only audience.
+++
Another night came, and you passed by in the hallway, carrying a basket of laundry. The doctor began his usual recital and you hurried your footsteps into the laundry room, eagar to finish your work.
After tending to your work, you gave the door a shut, when suddenly you remembered the doctor's tea.
It was when you finished brewing the cup of tea that the sound of the doctor's violin reached your ear.
You stopped in your tracks. The sound was nothing like you ever heard before. So used to the formal way of the doctor's way of playing that you found this new noise delightfully perplexing.
It was a new sound, a light note, sounding like a person calling you, beckoning you to it's callings.
Intrigued, you followed the note upstairs as the strange tune seemed to double it's pace, when it turned louder and deeper.
The tune quickly turned low, and seemed to work it's way through your ears and your very soul, as if asking a question as you took your normal place, peeking through the crack of the door.
The doctor continued his song, playing a song of dark valor, it's tune questioning and soothing.
Dr. Heilburger stared deeply into the window, his gaze fixated at a certain part as he continued to play.
You were so lost in his music that you failed to notice the the doctor raising an eyebrow as he played.
He plucked the strings of the violin expertly, and finished the song with a graceful sweep of his bow.
And there he stood, transfixed on the window before he gave a knowing smile.
"It seems zhat jou enjoy my performance fräulein. Ja?"
You clasped your hand to your mouth to stop yourself from squeaking. You saw the doctor gazing at you from your reflection on the window!
"Pardon me sir, I.. did not mean.."
"I'm quite sure zhat jou meant to hear mein music, or jou would not hide behind zhe door every night Ms. (L/n)"
You blushed furiously, and bowed, murmuring an apology when the doctor chuckled.
"How about jou make jourself to zhat cup of tea while I play for jou?"
Flustered, you fiddled with the cup of tea but nodded as you gave a small smile.
You took a seat in an armchair as the doctor readied his bow for you.
A smiled played around your lips as the doctor started playing.
And this time, you didn't need to hide behind a door.