A NEW STORY OHMYGOD
Keep in mind, I've never been to Berlin, and am not in touch with a Berliner's lifestyle, so I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies.
Hope you guys like ^^
-EscargotandScones
The mindless prattling of the meeting room had been reduced to a mumble in the German's ears. He was thinking; daydreaming in a sense. He looked out the window behind the well dressed business man in front of him, where the Berlin cityscape peaked upward and spiraled downward; where the Berliners lived their lives, conducted orders made by bosses, or were the ones to give orders. Oh, how he wished to be out from behind the large ovate table, away from the top floor of this high-end business building, and rather be with someone else on this Thursday. And he knew just whom he had in mind.
The daydreaming blonde had remained stoic as his mind wandered, however, he did not have the chance to notice the meeting had ended when it did. As other suit-clad men gathered their papers, adorned with pie charts and bar graphs of the like, and left, two men remained in the boardroom both with their papers uncollected. One man stood. He was extremely tall, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf that fluttered behind him. This attire was… odd, considering the mild weather Berlin had the pleasure to have. The tall man walked around one of the round ends of the long table, a glimmer in his violet eyes. The stoic man remained sitting, continuing daydreaming and not taking notice to the other man's movements.
The violet-eyed man made his way behind the German's seat and rested a single hand on one of the other's shoulders. The blonde jumped at the sudden touch and broke away from his dreams to look up at the stranger.
"Здраствытe," the stranger said. His voice was awkwardly childish for his masculine build. The problem seemed to be a language barrier, though.
"E-excuse me?" the German asked, as he didn't speak or know the slightest of the Russian language. The Russian-speaking man shook his head, embarrassed; which was equally awkward for his large build.
"I apologize," said the heavily dressed man, "I am not used to speaking to people outside of Moscow. I'm new to this whole 'traveling' thing." His voice was heavily laced with a Russian accent. The blonde nodded at the taller's statement.
"Ah," the German said coolheaded. He turned to the mess of papers on the table space in front of him and began to arrange them. The Russian was intimidating, undoubtedly. It was a very unlikely occurrence that German would be afraid of someone like this. The tall man watched over the other's shoulder.
"I said hello, by the way," the Russian chimed in again, filling the near silent void that had only been filled prior by the stoic man's shuffling of papers, "And to add, I am to be called Ivan Braginsky, in case you were wondering." As Ivan's speech halted for a moment, the blonde looked at the other in the corner of his blue eyes as his paper shuffling paused. Ivan rocked back on his heels.
"I happened to notice you didn't speak during the meeting," the tall man continued, "Could I have the pleasure of knowing your name?"
"I am… Ludwig Beilschmidt," Ludwig stated as he distracted himself by resuming gathering papers.
"Pleased to be meeting you, Ludwig," Ivan complemented, to then offer his hand for an introductory shake. Ludwig accepted, shaking hands briefly with the other.
"L-likewise," the blue-eyed man said.
"Now, if you would be so kind, and as this may seem… spontaneous, may I please escort you to a restaurant of your choosing for dinner tonight? I've never been to Berlin, and I would be most grateful to have a Berliner like yourself to show me the town," Ivan offered with a smile. Ludwig raised an eyebrow as he placed the now organized papers into his briefcase.
"I'm sorry… Ivan. As much as I would like to, I have… plans," Ludwig denied nervously, averting his eyes toward the door that lead to the hallway, which reeked of safety. The smile on Ivan's face fell off in disappointment.
"Oh… okay. Possibly another time?" Ivan inquired hopefully.
"Maybe," the blonde said doubtfully as he gathered his briefcase and coat and began to walk toward the exit. He closed the door behind him, leaving the rejected Russian by his lonesome. He was used to things being this way, though.
Ludwig sighed in liberation, as the awkwardness of that entire situation had made it much too difficult to breathe. He walked down the hallway, passing other ongoing meetings as well as empty boardrooms. He pressed the call button on the elevator to wait a few moments, then to step in when the doors opened.
Upon reaching the ground level of the business building, Ludwig stepped out of the open doors of the elevator. His shoes made a slight tap as they made contact with the shiny tile floor. He didn't mind, though. There was a horde of business people making the same noise with their footwear. They darted this way and that, some on talking phones, some talking on headsets, and a few in panic over forgotten thumb drives; in other words, all was normal as Ludwig made his way past the mass of business wear-clad people and to the exit. There, a few people hailed taxis from the side of the busy street, who Ludwig passed as he made his way toward the nearby parking garage.
The streets of the German city were very hectic that Thursday afternoon, cars stalled bumper-to-bumper. Ludwig wished he hadn't driven. He enjoyed walking much more, that and biking, however biking to a meeting of such class would have definitely been frowned upon. Not to mention he lived much to far away to walk. So, being stuck in his Volkswagen Scirocco for the next Gott-weiß-wie-viele minuten was the only choice, logically.
He sat looking out the window, where people that lived near their workplaces walked, and where couples were on afternoon walks, hand-in-hand. Ludwig sighed, longingly. His mind began to wander back toward the place it was in in the boardroom. He thought of who and what waited for him at home, and his stomach rumbled at the thought of what. He had been in that meeting for much too long, and he yearned for good meal. The meeting… that Russian man was an odd one, wasn't he?
With the Thursday traffic finally behind him, Ludwig was finally in sight of his apartment building. He veered the steering wheel to lead the automobile into his normal parking place. The blonde turned the car off to then climb out and head toward the entrance of where his living space resided. He climbed the set of stairs that accompanied his homecoming routine, until reaching his level and twisting the doorknob at the entrance of his apartment, to find that it has been left unlocked. He opened the door to be welcomed by the wonderful smell of supper that danced about in the air.
There was a basket of dirty laundry near the door, to be cleaned and folded that weekend. A pair of red boxers sat atop the peak of the pile, but Ludwig took no notice and tossed his coat over the heap. The apartment was small, however, the space that was there was used well; it very nicely decorated with a comfortable couch and love seat, which sat in front of the rarely used television. Colorful paintings littered the walls, mixed among photographs of happy memories.
Ludwig walked toward the kitchen of the apartment, where the pleasant smell grew all the stronger. The remnants of a diced tomato were strewn across a cutting board, salt and spices scattered about some spots of the counter space, and a small blob of olive oil had been left behind near where Ludwig was standing. Not to mention, there was one familiar being in the kitchen, one that danced around, one that wore a silly little apron that Ludwig failed to recognize. The German smiled as he leaned over a clean part of the counter to watch the little chef hum and bounce about, swinging his petite hips. The watched one turned around to reach for a spoon and gasped, surprised, to see the other was there.
"Luddy! Mi Bello, you scared me!" the dancing one exclaimed, red faced, before launching himself over the countertop to give 'Luddy' a hug around the neck and a few kisses on his cheeks, "How was work?" the smaller questioned as he released the German, who, now, was blushing.
"I had a meeting, Feliciano. All occurrences were uninteresting as always." Ludwig stated before his stomach began to growl up at him. The small man, Feliciano, giggled, as he motioned toward a cabinet and turned around to walk back toward the stove where his dance routine had been performed moments earlier.
"Get some plates, bello. Dinner is about ready." Ludwig looked at the clock. It was 9 at night.
Ludwig gathered two plates from the cabinet, along with some silverware; whilst Feliciano took the pasta he had made off heat and prepared it to serve. Ludwig wiped off a portion of the counter space where he set the dinnerware.
"So, how was work for you today, Feliciano?" Ludwig inquired, in an attempt to make small talk as the Italian portioned out the pasta.
"Same as always, I guess," Feliciano answered with a shrug, "I made enough pasta to feed an army, Lovi yelled at me," the auburn-headed man drabbled on. He turned around to grab wine glasses from a cupboard, "Oh! And Antonio came for lunch, too!" Feliciano added, "Lovi didn't seem too happy about that, but he said he had to go run errands with Antonio so I had to watch over the restaurant by myself," he continued absent-mindedly, Ludwig chuckling a bit about the two Latin men 'running errands'.
The German and the Italian sipped on their wine as they ate the professional-grade dinner and talked, Ludwig bringing up Ivan shortly only to have Feliciano push the subject to the side with his own tales of his day. The blonde listened contently to the other's ramblings as they finished their food. Ludwig tidied up Feliciano's mess, the bubbly Italian never but a few steps behind to talk his ear off. But Ludwig didn't mind. It was one of the qualities of the one he loved the most.
While the day might have been average, Ludwig enjoyed any evening spent with seine schönste Italiener. The night ended with a few innocent good night kisses, and nothing farther. They both closed their eyes and rested their bodies in their shared bed.
"Guten Nacht, Feliciano." Ludwig said as he shifted himself beneath the comforter.
"Buonanotte," Feliciano returned, snuggling up against the muscled blonde.
Oh my god, this is a short chapter. I will be continuing, loves! Hope you like!
Translations:
Здраствытe=Hello
Gott-weiß-wie-viele minuten=God-knows-how-many minutes
seine schönste Italiener=his beautiful Italian
Guten Nacht=Good night
Buonanotte=Good night