Before we get started, you should listen to Tomorrow by Gianluca Bezzina while reading this. Cross my heart and hope to die it isn't a songfic though.

Ludwig sighed as he stepped out of his Volkswagen, straightened his tie, locked his car, quietly slipped up to the drab IT building he worked in. Routine, that was what this was. He clocked in at exactly 7 AM, just like every day before, sat down at his desk at 7:05, opened his laptop, logged in. Everything was the same as it always had been. The quiet, safe routine that Ludwig loved. Everything in the right order. Everything structured, safe. He didn't have to talk to people too much, saving him the embarrassment of his rather husky accent, and he didn't have to deviate from his careful schedule. He liked it this way.

It wasn't until 11:45 AM on that fateful Monday morning that Ludwig realized his rigorous routine was not going to be something he could easily follow that day. After all, he had, for once in his life, forgotten to bring his lunch with him. So, Ludwig, for the first time in his three years at the IT company, joined the masses in streaming out for their lunch hour, clocking out and heading towards the nearest cafe with decent pastries and good strong coffee.

He had been in line, quietly, patiently waiting, for nearly 15 minutes before he was finally at the counter, where a polite man (Toris, his name tag read, an ordinary name that reflected his quiet appearance and his soft voice) stood waiting with a gentle smile to take his order. And as Ludwig opened his mouth to order a black coffee, no cream, no sugar, large in size and paired with some baumkuchen, suddenly, any semblance of an ordinary day with an ordinary routine was destroyed.

The door swung open and a loud voice called "Toris," in a cheerful, squealing voice. A blur of color rushed past Ludwig and suddenly the quiet man behind the counter was pulled into a tight hug by a girl who was considerably shorter than him, their cheeks squished together. Toris laughed and hugged her back.

"Hello, Amelia," He greeted as he pulled back, already moving away from the counter, "Your usual, I'm assuming?" Ludwig gaped. He was being brushed off, despite having waiting for fifteen- no, by now at least twenty minutes! For this girl, this overly loud and bouncy child who only just arrived! What was going on? Was this not a place of business? Ludwig turned to the girl, intent on scolding her, but-

His breath hitched, and he was caught by eyes deep and wide and blue and expressive, the most enchanting and exciting and complex eyes he had ever seen. They were smiling at him (Eyes can't smile, Beilschmidt, get a hold of yourself!) and then he realized the girl herself was smiling at him, widely and with all the brightness of a foolish, innocent, naive girl. And Ludwig found that he couldn't breathe, trapped as he was in her gaze, and her grin- and he had never met this girl in his life.

"Hello!" She chirped (What was with her and her happiness? What had he done to earn that smile?) "My name's Amelia! I'm sorry, did I cut in front of you? There usually isn't a line here when I arrive, so I'm used to just going right up to the counter. Are you a regular? I've never seen you before. I always recognize a face, especially one as handsome as yours! Oh, that was rather forward wasn't it, I'm sorry, I-"

Ludwig cut off her bubbly babbling with a terse reply, glaring at her as he found his voice. "Yes, you did cut in front of me. You should learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, and perhaps you won't be as rude as you are being now." Amelia's face fell, and Ludwig almost felt guilt- almost- but then Toris returned with a to-go cup and a white paper bag with a goofy cartoon alien peering out from over an UFO on the bottom corner of the bag. It was the most childish thing Ludwig had ever seen, but Amelia took the bag with a grin and a laugh and she dropped some crumpled bills and a few coins into Toris' hand with as much grace as a cat scrambling on ice. (That simile makes no sense, Ludwig. Who are you, your lazy brother? You are much better than that shoddy comparison.)

She must have given him exact change, because all the amused cashier did was smooth out the bills and add the money to the register, waving goodbye as the girl began to skip to the door, calling a cheerful goodbye to him. (And to someone named Feliks, who was probably the simpering blonde barista that was reading a gossip magazine by the coffee makers.)

If Ludwig thought that was then end, he was wrong. Unfortunately for him, he had thought it was the end. Amelia paused by the door, hand outstretched to push it open while simultaneously keeping a precarious grip on the doodled-on paper bag. She peered over her shoulder and beamed at him. "I really am sorry, you know. I'll make it up to you. Until next time, right? Maybe I'll get your name then, too!"

And then she was gone, just as fast as she had arrived. Ludwig was stunned, and perhaps a little flustered, which was surprising, since he fully expected to be insulted, judging by her rude carelessness. It took Toris three tries to regain his attention, and Ludwig was in a daze as he quietly and quickly relayed his order. He left quickly, not indulging in the small talk that the men behind the counter tried to engage him in; he had found people tended to get strange around him after hearing his accent. Not strange as in rude; strange as in afraid. It was easiest to just talk in short, soft replies, to get the point across quickly, clearly, and concisely, before the fear hit who he was addressing.

And the rest of the day he remained in that daze, talking even less and only thinking of bright blue eyes and wide, undeserved grins and that cheerful, musical voice.

He clocked out at 5 PM, like every other day, was in his car by 5:05, and was home by 5:30. He hooked his three dogs on leashes after starting dinner at 5:45, and began to run with them at 5:55, just like all the many days before. Ludwig began to think perhaps his strange encounter at the cafe was an one time thing. And part of him was glad for that; Ludwig didn't like deviating from his norm. But then, on the usually empty park path he jogged down with the excited dogs, he slammed into someone small, someone that had never been there before. Or, rather, someone tripped over Blackie (who yelped and slammed into Berlitz, who tumbled into Aster, who tripped Ludwig as he got tangled into the dog's leashes, and who landed right on whoever tripped over Blackie, completing the circle of destruction.)

Ludwig groaned in pain, and the body below him wheezed as hands scrambled to push him off. He pushed himself off and- "It's you!" Amelia and Ludwig both said at the same time, as their stunned daze wore off. Amelia beamed, clearly thrilled.

Ludwig? Not so much.

He scowled and snapped at her. "Are you following me? First at the cafe, now at the park? What are you doing here?" He glared as he stood, brushed himself up, untangled the leashes. He didn't even offer her help up. He never even had the chance; she practically bounced to her feet, unconcerned with the dirt and her lightly ripped jeans and the fact that he had just scolded her again.

"Sorry! Wow, this is weird, meeting twice in one day! I swear I'm not following you. I live down the street," She paused to point at townhouse, brown brick and white shutters and an apple tree in the yard, "And I was bored with work, so I decided to go for a walk! Figured it'd help me think, ya know? But I wasn't paying attention. Sorry, I was listening to music. Do you forgive me?"

Ludwig gaped, just a little at her, and before he could say a word, Amelia was squealing and on her knees, hands on Aster, rubbing his ears and cooing. "Puppies! Awh, look at how cute you three are, such goofy, floppy babies! Are they all yours? You're so lucky, I had to leave my dog back home with my parents until I could get a permanent place instead of just renting one! What's your name, sweetie? Abububu," Amelia cooed at Aster, moving to give the same treatment to the other two dogs. Ludwig was confounded, but he answered her after a moment of surprise, hesitant and unsure.

"The... the first dog is Aster. The one you're petting now is Blackie. And that's Berlitz." Ludwig cleared his throat uncomfortably, shifting his weight on the balls of his feet as he watched Amelia fawn over the dogs. She laughed and commented on how cute their names were, kissing them all on the noses before finally standing. And then Ludwig found his hand caught in hers and she began to drag him off somewhere, chattering on about something confusing, ("Well, I ran into you, so it's only right that I treat you to ice cream as an apology, right? Besides, I haven't gotten your name yet, and I want to be around these darlings a bit more, they're so precious!") It wasn't until he had a chocolate ice cream cone shoved into his hand (Amelia's was swirled the pink and blue of cotton candy, covered in rainbow sprinkles.) that he realized what was happening. He sputtered, insisted that he paid for his half. Amelia brushed him off his a wave of her hand.

"You don't have to pay! I was at fault. But, if you really think you owe me, your name should be a good enough payment." Ludwig stared at her, thinking her response over.

"Ludwig," he answered softly. "My name is Ludwig." Amelia beamed, and Ludwig quickly realized that while smiling seemed to be the energetic girl's default expression, there were so many different flavors of that same cheerful smirk. Ludwig didn't realize he was already filing them away for further review. The rest of that night was a blurred experience of laughter and compliments ("Your voice is nice, Ludwig. It's deep and warm and your accent is really beautiful, did you know that? I bet your smile is just as nice as it. Hell, if your smile is half as nice as your voice or your eyes, I might as well give up now. A guy like you must have a million and a half girls chasing after him, right?"), and Ludwig returned home to a burnt dinner with three tired dogs and a slip of paper with a squiggly name and number written on it held so tightly in his hand it was almost like he was afraid it was made of sand and would slip away if he let it go.

Her last words to him echoed in his head long after he went to bed.

"Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, right Ludwig? You should go back to the cafe so we can see each other! I'd really like it if you did, you know."

She would like it if he did. Well. He certainly would, in that case.

But the next day, she wasn't there. All that she had left, Toris said, when she came bursting through the door earlier that morning, was a note and an already paid for Danish. The note read "Tomorrow?" and to Ludwig it was a promise that could be thrown away by the wind but made him smile nonetheless.

Ludwig changed his routine. Every day he visited the cafe. Sometimes Amelia was there, sometimes only her gifts and almost-empty promises were all that greeted him, and sometimes nothing greeted him at all. And even though Ludwig loved structure and sameness and routine, the surprise twists and the unexpected turns made his heart pump excitedly. Amelia was like some playful plume of smoke, always close enough to grasp but never tangible enough to hold onto. And perhaps that was why Ludwig fell in love with her so fast.

There was something dangerously, sexily, enticingly appealing about something he couldn't predict. He never knew when she would grab him by the hand and whisk him off on an adventure or when she would throw an unspurred compliment his way or when she would sigh tiredly and lean against his shoulder and drift off into a peaceful sleep. And when a year had passed and Amelia dragged him off one Saturday to the beach (for no reason other than because it was sunny and she had a new swimsuit and why not?) he allowed himself to take a risk. As they watched the sun set he leaned down and tenderly brushed their lips together. Amelia responded like a wave surging up and crashing on the beach, pulling away for a breath and diving right back in.

Ludwig thought that his heart may have burst in that second, with their lips burning against each other and her fingertips searing into his skin and his hands latched onto her waist. It was such a perfect moment that Ludwig found himself praying that, should the day he die he be sent to heaven, that this would be his paradise. Because how could any utopia compare to this moment? This moment, with him kissing this contradiction of a girl, this girl that loved not blacks and whites but the grays in between, who had such a curious, excited, awed way of looking at the world.

A week later, paradise shattered. Amelia had moved from the rented townhouse, had left a note for him with Toris. "Come chase tomorrow with me," it read, and Ludwig could hear her pleading, could see the tears in her wonderful blue eyes, and every bit of him wanted to quit his job and follow after her wherever she may have gone, but...

Ludwig was very much a man of routine.

He liked the professional monotony of his job. Even though he loved Amelia so deeply and fully, how could he ever leave his whole life behind for her?

It took him three whole weeks. Three whole weeks of returning to the dull, ever the same life he had lived before. It took three weeks of boring gray replacing where before Amelia had once splashed color into his life, before he made his decision. His resignation letter was typed before noon. It was on his the desk of his boss before 1 PM. Ludwig was in his Volkswagen before 1:15, after clocking out for the last time at 1:05. Ludwig was at the cafe before 1:30. He had coaxed an address out of Feliks by 1:45. And by 2:30 PM Ludwig found himself parked in front of a colorful Victorian style house on the corner of Apple Street and 10th Ave, climbing the steps to the porch, knocking on the wooden door with the large, elaborate circular window in the middle. Ludwig waited with baited breath, and, at exactly 2:33 on what could have been a (dull, horribly, disgustingly boring) ordinary Wednesday afternoon, the door swung open and there stood Amelia, eyes wide and mouth o shaped and eyebrows raise up in genuine surprise.

Ludwig was hugging her at 2:34, kissing her at 2:35, and, much later that night, he was laying naked in bed tracing the patterns the moonlight threw on the skin of Amelia's hip with gentle fingers, smiling as she breathed soft and deep in her sleep.

So I feel bad because I literally forgot that I only posted part of it and I only remembered because my friend sent me a message going, "YOU'RE A LITTLE PUNK OKAY THAT STORY WAS REALLY HAPPY WHEN YOU FIRST WROTE IT AND THE VERSION YOU PUT ON FF MADE ME CRY."

I'm sorry for all the emotional trauma I have ever caused you dear, but that isn't going to stop me from causing you more.

I don't know if the people who have followed this will get a notification that I updated this so I'll post a "second chapter" to catch their attention.