They all fall asleep in his arms.
Wendla stumbles to the hayloft. She is soaked to the bone for there was a sudden gush of rain on her way here. She is sobbing as she walks. The world seems to be crumbling around her. She no longer has a home and she has more than herself to care for now. This is what it feels like to have the weight of the world on your shoulders, she thought. She knows he will be there- but that wouldn't be the hard part, even if he wasn't there. Asleep in his bed, she hoped he would be. So she could face this tomorrow. Or maybe he was running errands for his father all day tomorrow, and then she would have to wait til the next day maybe. Maybe he is busy studying for exams the day after that, and she will wait til the next week. But something like this you know you can't put off. It's just not that trouble-free.
She can see the light flowing through the trees, so someone must be there. How embarrassed she would be if it was his parents.
She clutches to her dress, which sticks to her skin. She took of her shoes a while ago, because they were filled with river water and made her feet slip inside her shoes. Who needs shoes when the pain from the bare ground beneath your feet doesn't compare to the other pains you experience? What difference will shoes or warm clothes make?
Her hair was stuck across her forehead, hiding her furrowed brow. She probably looked disgusting, but she felt disgusting on the inside too. She felt broken and dirty. But at the same time it felt slightly good, like she was useful- like she was finally doing something for herself. It was like a tiny candle keeping her just warm enough to keep her through this cold winter ahead of her.
She reached the door, but stopped there. She had to catch her breath. She could see Melchior's head just from here. She bent down to the ground, crouching and clutching herself around the waist and one hand on her head. She let out a cry she couldn't control- it slipped through her damp lips. She sat there and cried, forgetting where she was or who she was near. She whimpered, finally feeling the cold air against her back. It cut through the wet cloth on her back. If I was whipped, this is what it would feel like. She fell to the ground, curled up in a ball and sobbed loudly.
She heard quickening footsteps coming towards her. She couldn't find the strength to lift her head, to get up, to say she was fine. She felt herself being grasped and lifted, carried inside. Strong arms clutched her around the waist and legs. The person was familiar, she could just tell.
When she was laid down in the hayloft, she could see the person through her tears- Melchior. Her love, her other half, the one she would really care about for all eternity. The one who had done this damage to her and could never take back. How much she loved him. She had to tell him.
She closed her eyes, letting these last few tears escape from the miniscule cracks. He wiped away her tears with his thumbs, kissed her wet cheeks and eyelids. She opened her eyes to find his eyes filled with tears too. She reached into her pocket, to find a slightly damp but mostly dry handkerchief. She reached for his face and wiped his tears. He reached for her shoulders when she was done, pulled her body close to his masculine, well-built body. He held her close to his body, so she could hear his heartbeat. It was steady. I am glad he can be strong. His arms seemed to enclose him, like a cave. So warm and toned, he shut out the rest of the world. It was just him and her now. She looked up at him. He looked down at her.
She moved his hands to her stomach. She rested them there.
If he felt it properly, he would notice. She was showing a little. You could feel the bump, but you could feel the other life in there. The thing they made together.
He looked down at her, with confusion in his eyes. Her eyes welled up again, knowing that he would explode with anger any second. He would blame her fully. He would tell her to get out. Leave her with holes in her heart and no home, no hope for her child and herself. To leave them to die.
She let the tears flow again, knowing it was over. Everything was over.
What hurts the most is to see such a bright light dampened by something you have no control over.
It was silent until the sobs began.
Melchior had no idea who was crying, but they were close. They seemed to have so much sorrow in their sobs, the cries and whimpers overwhelming to the soul. It was like knives to the soul- they sounded like they were in so much pain. It hurt to listen.
Melchior slipped jumped out of the hayloft to find a girl collapsed by the doorway lying on the floor in a ball. Her thin, soaked body was shaking and convulsing in pain. He knew who it was instantly- the familiar dress, the beautiful shimmering hair, and the body he knew so well- Wendla.
He sprinted across the room, kicking up hay as he went. He knelt down to her. She wouldn't look up. Is she hurt? Oh Wendla. He picked her up gently; grabbing her by her tiny waist and her skinny little legs of a girl he has known for what seems eternity.
He took her up to the hayloft, her body shaking still.
He lay her down as gently as possible. He took her hand and waited for her to stop. He had to do something. He kissed her damp cheeks- they were cold. Normally her rosy cheeks would be so warm it was like kissing a mug of the loveliest hot chocolate. They seemed like rocks today, like she is carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. He wiped away her tears with his thumb, trying to get her to stop crying.
Finally she opened her eyes, looking up at him with the saddest eyes. He blushed- everytime he looked at her he did this. He didn't know why- but she was always beautiful, even when she was like this.
He took her delicate shoulders and clutched her drenched, frail body to his. He enveloped her in his arms, trying to keep her warm. She must be freezing.
She opened her eyes and looked up at her. Her petite, silky hands took his hands and slid them down to her stomach- which he was amazed to find one thing. There was a slightly significant bulge. Every time he had touched, stroked his hands over her bare body- he had never noticed it. But it wasn't there before- was it?
It only took a few heart beats to figure out why there was a bulge. He looked down at her, tears filling her eyes again. Oh god.
Oh god. It really was over. Look at him.
The unexpected happened- he smiled at her. He was smiling?
He had tears in his eyes, but he was smiling. He wasn't angry, sad, confused, distraught- the emotions she had seen him convey every time she had played this over in her head. He was happy? Why was he happy? Did he not understand?
She couldn't speak, she was crying again. Why was he behaving like this? Did he see it as a joke? She was dead serious!
She gulped. She had to say something. "Why are you smiling? "
He looked at her again, showing the warmth in his cheeks returning. "Because I am happy."
What?
"Happy? Your happy I am with child? Your happy about what we have done, what we have created?"
"As a matter of fact I am. You want to know why? Because I love you Wendla. I love everything about you- even the things you don't like about yourself- and I know what you don't. I love the slight curve in your nose you got when you were 5 when I accidently tripped you down the stairs of your house. I like the freckle spot on your back, right in the middle of your spine. I love the way you rattle your fingers on the desk when you are bored. I love the way you hum while you walk. I love the way you laugh and you bite your lip when your embarrassed. You hate all these things about yourself, yet I love them all. I love how you have my child inside you, growing. And I don't care about the rules, you know I don't. I care about the things that I should care about the most- my love for you, my love for Moritz and the way I live my life. "
My love for you.
Does she not understand how I love her- whether she is with child or not?
Wendla, you need to know.
Finally she smiled. She lay down, shivering slightly. She was shaking because of the cold. Her damp dress must be making her feel like she is in the snow with no clothes on!
He took of his shirt- leaving himself with only pants on, and took of her dress for her. He unbuttoned the dress as quick as he could. He pulled it off her, leaving her body bare apart from her underclothes. He looked down at her belly, seeing its soft-contoured bulge. He smiled at it, put his hand on it. He lay his cheek down on it- it felt like he could feel it there, growing in its splendour.
He took of his shorts, knowing he had to dry her somehow. He wiped her shorts over her, getting rid of the water. Then he slipped his shirt over her body.
"Melchi, won't you get cold?"
He grinned at her. "I would catch pneumonia for you, Wendla. I am sure I wouldn't enjoy it, but I want you to stay warm now. Plus it's not that cold up here- will you keep me warm?"
She smirked at him, rolled onto her side and slowly pushed him down to the floor. She pulled herself on top of him, and lay down. He could feel her breath against his bare chest. He could feel her hips push into his body. He could feel her feet against his legs.
"I will be your blanket, if that's okay with you?"
He wrapped her arms around her, and whispered "That's okay with me."
And she fell asleep in my arms.