AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first ever Pride and Prejudice fanfic. I would love to hear your views and thoughts about this! Please review!

It would be a great contradiction to say that the singing of birds in the morning is not a cliché, because in truth, it is. Though many people are often awoken by such a natural force each morning, there are few that hear their sweet song in the evening. By morning, their song is a greeting, a warm tune that starts with the rising of the sun; but by evening, it is something more of an intricate, yet simple love melody, played for the two fortunate souls who managed to get hit by Cupid's arrow.

On such evenings, the world is said to stop momentarily as the two lovers come to meet in a kiss. When such a thing occurs, one can only stop and bask in the union, for love that is true, is a rarity in a society that frowns upon it.

Mr Darcy was a proud man, but when he first happened to lay eyes upon the fair Elizabeth Bennet, any pride or arrogance he harboured was instantly slain; for what man could not fall for her? There was something in her eyes... such fine eyes that they were. He had noticed that they were a deep hazel, such a contrast to his own sky blue! Of course his way of expressing himself was far from the usual dance, instead, he, being the ignorant fool that he was, managed to insult her without doing so to her face. Many a night (and day) would he spend chastising himself for the words he had so wished had not been spoken.

His first proposal was a disaster no doubt, and proved that she was not indeed beneath him, but his equal in every sense. Misguided was her heart and mind, as was his went he had asked her to become his wife. With anger she had turned him down, and with vengeance he would tell his altering tale. Her heart was swayed, and when at last they met again at Pemberley, it was proof that Cupid had indeed wished these two together.

His second proposal came at dawn, when the birds came to greet them with their warm morning song. The circumstances in which Mr Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet came together, was not a happy occasion, but merely a coincidence. Insults had been thrown, sleep had not come and when Elizabeth had emerged at dawn, no hope was there in ever seeing him again. But come he did. Through the pre-dawn mist he came, handsome as ever though only dressed in his breeches, boots, shirt and large overcoat. Words were exchanged and through it all, a declaration of love was said.

"If your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you... You have bewitched my body and soul and I love – I love – I love you, and never wish to be parted from you from this day forward."

She loved him back, there was no denying it. It could be seen in her fine eyes, the half upturned smile on her lips and the glow on her pale cheeks. When she had reached for his hand and professed that her feelings had indeed been altered, lips had come together and their first kiss was shared.

Within a month they were married.

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To say that they lived happily ever after is understatement, for although they did live happily ever after, there are no such words that would be able to express that each person felt. It was during one particular night that such words could be found and said however:

"How are you this evening my dear?" said Mr Darcy, holding his wife's hands in his own.

"Very well... Although I wish you would not call me 'my dear'," she replied, a half smile on her lips.

"Why?"

"Because it's what my father calls my mother when he's cross about something," she reasoned, laughing lightly.

"Well, what endearments am I allowed?"

"Well let me think: Lizzy for everyday... My Pearl for Sundays and... Goddess Divine – but only on very special occasions," she added cheekily.

He chuckled. "And what should I call you when I'm cross: Mrs Darcy?" He raised an eyebrow, awaiting her answer.

"No! No." She looked him straight in the eye, her love written clearly across it. "You may only call me Mrs Darcy, when you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy."

He laughed warmly. "And how are you this evening... Mrs Darcy?" His hand reached out to sweep a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Leaning down, he kissed her forehead. He could feel her smile as he did so.

"Mrs Darcy." Another kiss on her left cheek.

"Mrs Darcy." He leaned to place a kiss her nose, slipping a little as he did.

"Mrs Darcy." A kiss to her neglected right cheek.

"Mrs Darcy." He brought his hand to her chin, allowing his thumb to stroke it gently. In the back of his mind he registered the sweet love melody bestowed by the birds watching them, but as he continued to look into his love's fine eyes and leaned forward, all thoughts were lost as their lips met in a kiss.

And like what is said, the world around them seemed to stop momentarily. For love that is true, is love that is forever; and as the scene before you comes to an end go away remembering that each time you hear the singing of the birds in the morning and their love song in the evening, there is hope for you and I yet.