So I haven't written in ages and this is only my second P&P fic and my first LBD one. It was based two ideas I had that wouldn't leave me. Basically, it begins with this, "the best part of being married is not waking up to an empty bed. Enjoy the story, forgive any inconsistencies and I hope you review.
I do not own Pride and Prejudice nor do I own Lizzie Bennet Diaries. I have merely been blessed with the privilege of having received the chance to fall in love with them.
Many, many, many thanks to my Beta and BFF, XelinaSkye. Have a Kisses+Doritos treat!
"Mr. Darcy! Liza Hearn here from JABC. What can you say is the best thing about being married?" It is a well known fact that I, William Alexander Darcy, media empire heir, hated crowds. I really didn't know how to react to a swarm of people all eager to devour even the tiniest bit of information about my personal life. As I tried to figure out how to answer that rude and overtly personal question, a quiet snicker caught my attention.
I turned around and was met by the sight of my wife of six months vainly attempting - and failing- to hide her amusement at the whole thing. I caught her eye and she gave me an almost imperceptible wink before reaching over to squeeze my hand.
"Honestly? It's not waking up to an empty bed. It's having your first sight be a pair of the most gorgeous eyes ever seen and an absolutely breathtaking smile gracing an equally bewitching face. It's hearing a sleepy, 'Good morning' and feeling her snuggle even deeper into your arms."
"Wow. That's...something that would definitely qualify as the best thing about married life." Liza Hearn, along with the rest of the paparazzi looked stunned at the fact that William Darcy managed to eloquently express such an emotional and lengthy statement and frankly, so was I. I turned around to look at Lizzie and was met by said smile that could make my heart skip a beat, and skip a beat it did.
Tightening my grip on her hand, I deftly wove my way around the crowd to our car, ignoring the barrage of questions that followed us. Once in the safety of the vehicle, I turned to face Lizzie.
"I-" The rest of my words were cut of by her fierce kiss and all coherent thoughts fled my mind.
"That was the most beautiful thing you've ever said."
"Even sweeter than my final and successful attempt to ask you out?" I asked teasingly as I watched the familiar twinkle appear in her eye.
"Yes. Absolutely. That attempt sucked too. We were both so awkward that it was a miracle we sounded coherent in that conversation." I barked out a laugh at the statement. It was true, that was one of the most awkward attempts to properly ask a girl out. (not as bad as the first one. Nothing could be as bad as the first one).
"I meant every word,though. Of what I said." Suddenly, I had the urge to emphasize that, to make it clear to her that I wasn't lying or trying to flatter her or even appeasing the press. "It's the best thing about being married to you- not that there is anything that even remotely sucks about being married to you. Waking up to see you is what makes my day and the thought of being able to do it again the next day is what makes me not unwilling to end the day. Am I making sense?" She had this weird look in her eyes. I'm terrible with these things. I mean, I can barely even express my emotions to her. She was the one who was good with words, not I.
"Yes you are." She punctuated that with another kiss. "William Darcy, how in the world could you claim to be horrible at expressing yourself when that was the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say."
"I thought my statement to the press was the sweetest thing I've ever said?"
"NO, that was the the most beautiful thing you've ever said. This one's the sweetest. There's a difference." Laughter bubbled out as she said it and all I could think of was that I was probably the happiest man in the world.
A smile makes its way to my face as I slowly wake up from that dream of one of my favorite memories. Contentment, no bliss, washed itself over me even as the lingering remnants and emotions from that dream slowly slipped away. Eyes closed, I reached out to tug Lizzie back towards me. Only to be met with air. The smile quickly slipped from my face as I remembered that she wasn't home.
I hate her being away; but being married to a journalist, especially one as talented as she was, meant that somedays, my business trips wouldn't coincide with hers and I'd wake up to an empty bed. Usually, those days seemed to drag on, unless of course it was the day when I'd get to see her again. The enticing prospect of actually getting to end the night with her was enough of an incentive to brighten my day.
It's pathetic, I know. But it's part and parcel of absolutely and totally whipped and in love with Elizabeth Bennet-Darcy.
Today was one of those days, the "I finally get to see Lizzie later after ages" day. Of course ages usually meant three to four days. But yes, I was going to get to see Lizzie today, and at daytime no less. As quickly as I could, I went through my morning routine (sans her). I was so excited that I was moving on autopilot and I didn't notice that I prepared two mugs of coffee instead of one. I took extra care with my appearance this morning, shaving off the "grizzly beard" that, Lizzie claims, makes me look like a hippie. I wore her favorite shirt and even slipped on a bow tie as a nod to those early meetings from four years ago.
Once I was done, I quickly rushed out of our house (Would you believe that I somehow willingly purchased a house in the suburbs that had a sizable backyard and was lined by a white picket fence?) and drove to work. I only stopped by quickly enough to see if there were any important things I needed to do but as there were none, I continued on in my preparation for the much anticipated homecoming.
I stopped by the little bookshop we frequented. Her favorite author had recently released a new installment to his latest series and I knew she hadn't picked it up yet. After the bookshop came the little cafe that sold her second favorite chocolate chips cookies. The first would be Jane's homemade ones of course; but since she and Bing were a four hour drive away, this was her best alternative.
With the book and cookies in hand, I went to my last stop: the First Impressions Flower Boutique. Now, Lizzie wasn't exactly the typical "romance me and I'll swoon" type of girl but she was partial to sunflowers since, as the name implied, they seemed to carry a bit of sunshine with them wherever they went. Just like her, actually.
Mrs. Goulding, a cheerful matronly lady owned the shop and as I was a frequent customer, she immediately knew what I wanted.
"Good morning Mr. Darcy! The usual thirteen sunflowers I assume?" I gave her a small grateful smile. We were never the normal type of couple. Lizzie loved to make things interesting and I, well, I just simply rose to the challenge. A box of flaming oreos instead of chocolates. Poems by Browning, Barrett, Tennyson, or whoever else's work suited the mood instead of the usual love songs crooned on the radio. And 13 flowers instead of the usual dozen.
A hand on my arm shook me out of my fond musings.
"Here's the flowers and here's the card. Would you like me to put it in your usual account, sir?"
"Yes, thank you, Mrs. Goulding."
"Of course." She flashed me a smile that was tinged with sadness. Just as I was about to step out of the shop, her voice stopped me. "Mr. Darcy! I'm glad today is a good day for you." I gave her a warm smile before softly saying,
"So am I, Mrs. Goulding."
As soon as I got to the car, I took the card out. I wracked my brain for one of those poems or a silly little line she or I had uttered but none came to mind. Brow furrowing, I began to go through our conversations, trying to find something meaningful, something original yet already referenced. Something that I could write that would make her eyes twinkle in that way that was just her. And then it hit me...
I read over the statement thrice making sure that everything came of the right way since I was known for my less than appropriate wording. Satisfied, I tucked it into the bouquet and made sure that I had all I needed to greet Lizzie.
The beautiful arch that marked the entrance to our meeting place soon came into view; and with it began the familiar thudding of my frantically beating heart. Lizzie was here and I was going to see her after five long and lonely weeks.
I stepped out of the car and walked towards our spot, moderating my pace so as not to appear to eager but the moment she came into view, whatever little self-control I had left just disappeared. I ran towards her, the invisible force that had bound me to her tugging at me, beckoning me to come faster. I reached out to her and traced the familiar features that were ingrained in my head.
"Lizzie. I must have looked like a besotted fool running towards you like that. In fact, you could have probably mistaken me for Bing, lovesick puppy that he was..and still is." I chuckled softly and began to present my meager offerings. "I got you somethings. Yeah, yeah, I know. Flattery won't get me anywhere and showering you with gifts isn't going to make you less mad at me or stop you from giving me the silent treatment."
Silence answered me back.
"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry I didn't call or talk to you for that long. It's just I've been busy and well. I know that's not an excuse so here I am, saying sorry. You will forgive me right, Lizzie? You know I can't stand you being mad at me. Never have and never will. And I brought you your favorites. A new novel, THE novel you've spent a year anticipating, your second favorite cookies and the sunflowers, although they wouldn't compare to you. And I wrote you a message. It says,
To the woman who is definitely more than just decent enough for me. Thank you for telling me to watch those videos. I believe the 2.5 WPF club isn't such a nightmare to you anymore, is it not?
I must sound really pathetic groveling like this. Fine stay silent. Just wanted to tell you that I love you Lizzie and-" I try to choke back the sobs that are threatening to burst out of my lips and fail miserably.
"I miss you, Lizzie, so so much. These five months have been so miserable for me. I know that you told me to promise you that I wouldn't be sad but I just can't not be sad. How can I be? You left me Lizzie. You're not here." The world's a blur now as tears obscure my vision, but even through them, the elegantly engraved words were clear enough, far too clear enough to remind me that the pain wasn't going away anytime soon.
Elizabeth Skye Bennet Darcy
Beloved daughter, friend and wife
The sunshine to any cloudy day
The mark you've left in our lives will never fade...
"I'm so sorry that I wasn't there when he broke into your office. I should have been there to protect you but I couldn't. I'm so sorry. I know you told me not to blame yourself. And you're right. At least we had that precious hour to say goodbye. Didn't make it any easier. Doesn't make it any less painful." I take a deep but shaky breath. "But enough of this wallowing. I brought sunflowers after all. Gigi graduated top of her class. Her winning piece was the song we wrote together. Can you believe that? She managed to find a melody to that random poem we wrote together after eating too much of Jane's dome cake. Speaking of Jane, she's doing well. A bit harassed with the twins. They've reached their terrible twos stage. Ellie almost swallowed one of the marbles in Bing's collection and Charlie ruined Jane's favorite yellow sweater with his fingerpaints. And did I tell you about Annie-kins..."
I spent four hours there just talking to Lizzie. There had always been something cathartic about talking to Lizzie. No matter how opinionated and vocal she was, she was always ready to listen to me talk and talk and just pour out whatever frustrations I had about work and Aunt Cathy or even about circumstances. And when I was finished, she's talk and find some sort of sense in my jumbled up thoughts and my tangle of words, complaints, sighs and groans. A soothing balm and a guiding light.
But she didn't talk this time. So I just kept talking some more, vainly hoping that if I said something else, she would finally reply. But she kept silent and so, again, I kept speaking- until my voice was hoarse and I had run out of things to say. Then reluctantly, I had to say goodbye again. I remembered a conversation Lizzie and I had about the show Castle. She told me that she loved how the protagonist, Richard Castle refused to say goodbye. He would always say "Til Tomorrow.". She loved the hopefulness those words carried, the magic the word "Til" had, the promise unspoken. And so, instead of saying goodbye, I pressed my fingers onto my lips and touched them to her name before saying, "Until next time, Lizzie"
I didn't say anything about the silence, the non reply as I got into my car. I gave no heed to it as I drove back home. I even ignored it while I stumbled to bed and pulled my laptop out. I only let it bother me once I had clicked the familiar and well-loved link.
Only then did I allow myself to voice my biggest fear. "I'm so scared Lizzie. I'm terrified that even I have pictures to remind me of your eyes and your smile that I'd forget your laugh and the sound of your voice. I-i can't forget it Lizzie but what if I do? I miss you so much, Lizzie."
I click play and her face appears.
"It is a truth universally acknowledge that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife..."