A/N: Ok, so farther down there is a conversation in German (nothing major so I did not feel the need to offer a translation, it's just a basic "Hello, how do you do?"). I sadly know very little German, especially grammar, so if it's off, PLEASE tell me! I will fix any such mistakes ASAP!
Also, my favourite scene is in this part. It was the scene that actually prompted me to write this. The story developed around it really around it.
I had a ton of fun looking up German breakfasts! After I wrote out that part my Mutter came in to tell me that she'd bought Pumpernickel bread. Sometimes she has amazing timing skills.
That night I set out to the field again. Once I got there I realized that it was the same that Elizabeta had mentioned sitting at. It honestly was a beautiful place, one that I would paint in a heartbeat if I had the supplies to. For a while I merely stood and stared out at the glow the flowers seemed to hold in the moonlight.
I came back before the sun even began to rise—I had to make sure that I put my fresh bouquet in a jar of water before it started to wilt—and after rearranging the sheets, I set to work on breakfast.
As far as I knew, it wasn't a day that Ludwig would have off. I don't tend to keep track of which day of the week today is. There is absolutely no form of schedule to how I do things, so why bother with knowing the date or time? I never liked clocks anyway; especially the huge ones that make a constant ticking noise all the time. They make me feel like I've done something wrong or that I don't have enough time to do anything; which is absurd because I have all the time in the world!
The digital stove clock changed to 0:48 and the movement from the number switching brought me out of my thoughts. I wanted everything ready and perfect for when Ludwig woke, so I would have to start now.
It didn't take long before the eggs were finishing up, and the sausages were out on platters—I had to use two because there were so many. I didn't know which ones to choose so I'd taken all of the ones I thought Ludwig would like. There was the Gouda cheese sitting next to ham and salami slices. Tomatoes had their own dish and the potato pancakes were in the oven. I'd found some muesli, and that was out as well. The small kitchen table had been cleaned and was now set for two—everything matched and looked neat. I had bought the meats from the butcher on Kohlstraße like Ludwig had said to do. There was a loaf of pumpernickel and bauernbrot among the breads as well. Mett sat in a dish by his plate, and a glass of orange juice was next to mine. There was a gallon of milk on the white-and-yellow checkered tablecloth for the cereal too. I'd made sure to think of everything.
It wasn't long before Ludwig had woken and I could hear his feet travel down the stairs. I tried not to grin widely, but it was impossible to keep the little giggle from escaping my lips when he did a double take upon coming into the kitchen.
"I know it's not Sunday, but I wish that you will pardon that and eat breakfast with me." I let out another giggle and took his hand, tugging him to his seat and sitting him down before going to my own spot across the table.
"Feliciano…did you make all of this?" He seemed unable to believe that I'd made all of the food exactly the way his Vati had. I only nodded and put my napkin in my lap.
"We should probably get started! You'll have to go to work soon." I began by picking up the dish with the warm pancakes sitting on it and sliding the colder one onto my own plate before passing it to Ludwig. My arms were too short to properly reach over and hand it to him, but he compensated by stretching out one of his long muscled arms and taking the lukewarm plate. We continued to pass the food back and forth until we both couldn't fit anything else on our dish.
After a couple minutes of silent eating, I started up some small talk to brighten the tired mood. "So, what is your job?"
He grabbed his coffee mug and took a swig. I noticed that he hadn't slicked his hair back yet, and I wondered if I could get him to wear it messy like that all day some time. "Well, technically I'm in the family business, blacksmithing, but the town treats me more like a common handyman."
I tilted my head and spread jam on a slice of pumpernickel. "Then how do you get paid if you're a handyman?"
He paused to eat a spoonful of the muesli—which I wasn't going to eat, because I'd already tasted the cereal and it was pretty bland. "Whoever asks me to fix something usually pay me for what I do as they see fit. Some people even give me things like food, or household items. The butcher for instance; he only pays in sausages or salami and never money."
As we continued to eat for a while, I looked up at him to see him glancing at the clock. "Do you have to be at work on time?"
"Well…not necessarily, but I don't want to be gone and have someone show up to find the shop closed." Ludwig started eating faster but I reached out and caught one of his arms in my grip. It wasn't exactly a grip so much as a touch though.
He looked up from the food to settle with giving me his icy blue gaze. I think I saw the ice in those eyes melt a little and I smiled. "Why don't you stay here and finish then? I'd hate for you to get sick from eating too fast. I'm sure that the town will be fine without their handyman for a few more minutes," I said quietly.
Ludwig was silent for a moment before he lowered his arm and I thought I caught his lips twitching into a smile for a second. "Ok, but as long as you promise not to do this all the time. I don't think I could let you wake up so early and cook my breakfast every day you're here."
That reminded me that I was going to have to leave one of these days. I really didn't want to be reminded by that now. One day though, I would be done here and have to move on. Even though I love what I do and stand for; there are too many goodbyes for anyone to handle.
We both chatted a little after that; not about much, just Ludwig's job and things like that. Soon it was time for him to head off to work—we could only stall his leaving for so long. I needed to clean up our breakfast anyway.
For the remainder of the day I found a broom, tied a cloth napkin over my hair, and started to clean the house. I only worked on the kitchen, living room, hall, and the other places that Ludwig had let me roam through. I knew better than to touch a place like his brother's bedroom or his own. Cleaning gave me something to do, let me think about things, and was also a way for me to pay for staying here.
After a couple hours I had a plan. Sure it was simple and had a lot of holes, but it was still a plan! First, I was going to make dinner—pasta of course—no matter what Ludwig said. He didn't seem to have the energy to cook after a long day, and that gave me something else to do. Later, when I was positive that he had gone to sleep, I'd sneak up to his room and make sure that there wasn't a repeat of last night. I didn't know what I would do if he was having another nightmare, but I'd think of something.
It seemed to only take moments before Ludwig was coming in through the door and the dogs were barking in the backyard—I'd let them out earlier. He came into the kitchen and threw a newspaper onto the table with the mail. The smell of tomato sauce and spaghetti came from the stove I was standing in front of.
"Feliciano, you don't have to keep cooking me food," He shook his head, but I noticed it when he couldn't help but take a moment to sniff at the delicious scent of our soon-to-be-dinner.
I gave the tomatoes a final stir before turning and smiling at him while I poured the red sauce over two plates of pasta sitting next to the burner. "Of course I do! You're letting me stay here. I have to give you something in return," I replied happily, "I also cleaned the living room, hall, and the kitchen while you were out at work. I hope you don't mind that I peeked in some of the closets trying to find a vacuum…"
Ludwig walked over and ran a hand through his slicked back blonde hair and grabbed one of the plates with his other. "You cleaned too? Honestly Feliciano, you need to stop doing all of this housework for me."
We both sat down at the table for a meal the second time that day. "No, I don't have much money, so I can't pay you for allowing me to sleep on your couch, but I do know how to clean. If I didn't give you something in return, how could I earn the right to stay?"
"I guess you're right, but if you don't want to work then I won't make you."
I think I giggled a little when I protested with, "Ve~ But cleaning's fun!"
At that the conversation stopped while we both ate. Ludwig must have skipped lunch because he went back for a second large plateful of pasta. While he continued to sit at the table and finish eating, I started on the dishes. The suds and warm water let me easily slip into thought and space out.
"What's the purpose of that cloth covering your hair?" The question snapped me back to the present and reminded me that there was someone else in the room.
"Oh…I don't know really," I reached over and shut off the tap, "I've just always worn one when I clean. I can take it off if you want."
Ludwig walked over and set his plate in the sink, "No, it's fine. I was simply curious as to why you were wearing…" his voice was momentarily paused by a yawn, "…it." He must have been tired from working all day. He'd come home rather late.
"You should go to sleep early. You sound sleepy." I suggested.
He took the advice and soon I could hear his footsteps as he walked to his room. I busied myself for a while until I could be certain that he was sleeping before following up the stairs after him. Maybe this wasn't the best idea, but I had to make sure he wasn't going to have another nightmare.
As I slowly made my way up the steps, a feeling of dread started to rise in my stomach. When I reached the hall above, it moved to my chest and intensified.
This time when I walked down the hall I ignored his brother's room. It didn't take long for me to come to Ludwig's door even though I'd been trying to be as quiet as I could. The bad sensation seemed to grow when I cautiously opened the door, not wanting it to creak as I entered. That feeling that had been accumulating soon became almost a solid weight as my eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. It felt familiar…
The moment before I was able to see clearly, I figured out what had caused the feeling.
But it was too late to do anything about it.
Ludwig rested peacefully in his bed, deeply asleep. The room was almost completely still; everything was silent. All would have been perfectly fine—accept for the intruders.
Four figures surrounded the bed. One balanced on the wood headboard in a crouch; its arm stretched down toward the man sleeping below. Another held on to the edge of the wood while leaning forward until its head was almost over the pillow. The third and fourth seemed in the process of crawling on the bed from opposite the second. Three of them ignored me, but the one on the headboard looked up with a sly grin. It silently pressed a finger to its lips and winked before falling off its perch head first into Ludwig.
Instead of crashing into him, it seemed to slide through into him. The blonde jerked and the emotion was all of a sudden walking away from the bed licking its fingers. The piercing feeling was back, and all I could do was try to stay standing while the other three had their turns taking happiness and good from my friend. Yes, he was definitely my friend, and I couldn't let this happen to him.
Another slice to my heart sent me to my knees. Why did it feel like everything was tripled? All of the pain was at least twice as much as it should be. I wanted to scream, but my mouth was open and no sound escaped.
I don't know how long it was, but eventually the hurting in my chest wasn't as much as before. I crawled forward on the ground toward Ludwig's bed. The only way this would stop was if I could comfort him and give him hope that things might get better, that they would be better.
Once, someone told me that to escape discomfort, and to let their bodies rest, humans go into a deep sleep. It's not like that for emotions. We have to be at the ready all of the time, just in case. There isn't time for sleep or rest, so we never need it.
I couldn't fall asleep and dream everything away, it didn't work like that. Instead, I climbed under the sheets next to Ludwig and reached out to place a shaky hand against the side of his temple. Under normal circumstances I wouldn't do something like this, but right now there wasn't a quicker way to stop the negative emotions' effects on him.
Negative emotions live off of a human's suffering and positive emotions stay alive when humans are happy and peaceful. Originally, emotions weren't as crafty or skilled as they are now. These days we like to work from behind the scenes and not draw a lot of attention to ourselves. Farther back though, way way way back, instead of purely influencing humans and trying to sway them to good or bad, we were a lot more direct.
Some people called us demons.
Some called us gods even.
Those four had emotionally robed Ludwig, and so he needed to gain back what was lost. I couldn't replace everything of course, but it would help ease both of our pain right now. Slowly I emptied my mind, making sure that I wasn't going too fast, because that could get complicated very quickly—I know from experience. After a pausing breath, I let my mind suddenly burst with hope.
In truth, Ludwig needed something else, like joy or happiness, but neither of them was here. I was, and I was Hope.
My hand didn't glow, there wasn't a big FLASH and he was better again; only a moment where my hand ghosted through my friend before I shut off the connection. I couldn't help it when there was a sigh that escaped my throat when it was finished. Everything hurt less now, and I stared up at the ceiling above, letting my mind gradually go blank; the closest thing that I'd ever get to rolling over and going to sleep.
It wasn't until five minutes before the alarm clock on his bedside table went off that I realised I was still lying next to Ludwig, and that might not be a good thing to wake him up to. Memories of such a mistake rose to mind, and I ran out of the room as fast as I could without making too much noise.
There wasn't time to make breakfast—or at least a good breakfast—so I settled for making coffee the way I'd seen Ludwig make it. There was the chirp of an early bird outside, and one of the dogs ambled into the room. I smiled down at him and reached to scratch his ears.
"Buongiorno, Blackie."
The bird chirped again and something knocked against the window above the sink. I went over to investigate and saw a small yellow song bird looking up toward my eyes from the window sill. It chirped again and pecked the glass. The little winged-creature peered at me like it expected something. Maybe it wanted to get in...
"Find something interesting outside?" Ludwig must have come downstairs while I was distracted. His voice was tired and a bit unhappy, but other than that, he seemed fine. It felt fine, I wasn't getting anything. Unlike other humans, where there was a bit of guess-work involved, I knew that I would have felt it if something was amiss.
I stood up straight and turned to smile at him, "Good morning! Buongiorno!"
"Guten morgen. I believe you were looking at something out the window?" His question reminded me of the bird before it let out another impatient tap on the glass.
Ludwig frowned and walked over as I explained, "There's a little yellow bird that keeps pecking at the window, and it won't go away, and I think it wants to be let in…"
As he sighed, my blonde friend reached over and unlatched the window. "Gilbird finally came back it would seem." His voice was quiet, and a twinge below my skin made me clench my teeth.
The bird tweeted and hopped through the now open window before taking flight and heading upstairs. My eyes followed its path distractedly until behind me, Ludwig spoke, "That bird, Gilbird, was like his one constant friend. It's sad…the bird outlived him," I looked back at Ludwig to find him looking after the yellow wings that had disappeared up the stairs visible through the doorframe.
"At least he didn't have to deal with the loss of, uh Gilbird. He never had to deal with the death of such a loved animal."
"Have you?" The question was sudden and definitely threw me off.
"Ve~ Have I what?" There went that verbal blunder again.
He clarified without meeting my eyes, "Lost someone; have you ever lost someone?"
Of course I knew that there was no possibility of me lying to Ludwig about something he seemed to need to know, so I was completely honest to him, "Too many times to count."
I didn't want to look at his face and see the surprise or bitter look; instead my eyes fell on the vase of flowers still sitting on the table. The sun was only now rising up for the the day, and its warming rays came through the window, highlighting the pastel coloured petals. The dust danced in the growing yellow light coming from outside.
Ludwig cleared his throat, "Feli…"
I cut him off before he could say anything, "Those flowers look perfect. The way they're arranged in that vase, and the early morning sunlight… I wish I could paint them."
What he said next surprised me. "You can do that," I heard him shift a bit where he stood, "I mean, I could buy you some paints and canvas…and…a stand?"
His halting speech made me turn and grin, "You mean an easel?"
It took a second before he smiled back, "Ja, an easel."
Not a wide laughing show of teeth, or a smirk in teasing, but an unsure, out of use smile that still had a remembrance of sorrow. It was perfect.
Two days later, after Ludwig went to work and I spent the time cleaning, he took me to the local art supply shop. In front, the building held a modest gallery with beautiful watercolours and sculptures, but in the back was a small room displaying sketchbooks and sets of pencils.
I took my time walking through the shelves and deciding what to buy. I would need the right sized canvas, paint brushes of good quality, and at least a few oil paints to mix together on a pallet. Ludwig mainly stood back by the door and watched as I tried not to hit the easels and cause them to tumble to the ground. Sometimes I asked him which tube of paint I should buy, or if the red handled paintbrush looked better than the blue one. He would just say "I don't know, Feli. You decide." accompanied with a shake of his slicked-back blond hair or a shrug of broad shoulders.
In the end we walked up to the counter with two canvases—a large one for landscapes and a smaller one better fit for painting objects, five various oil paint tubes, a medium sized easel, and a pallet to mix the paint on.
No one was behind the counter, but I heard someone's voice through the doorway to the right. Ludwig rang the bell sitting next to the old cash register. "Hallo?"
A young girl with shoulder length blonde-brown hair and green eyes poked her head out from the doorframe. She had a violet ribbon in her hair and a simple pink-red dress on.
"Bruder," she called back into the room, "Kunden sind hier."
A man's voice—her brother's—came from the back room in a reply that I wasn't entirely listening to. Ludwig said something, and I let him do all the talking while I looked around at the shop.
There was a picture on the wall by the door that caught my attention. It looked old, but someone had cleaned the frame recently. A three year old girl that must be the same one standing in front of him was sitting on the shoulders of a much happier and relaxed version of the serious blonde quietly watching his sister count up how much money we owed them. I wondered what happened to the happy siblings from the photo.
Looking around the shop, I realized that we had been the only two costumers the entire time that I'd been walking through the shelves. It must have been twenty minutes at least, but no one else even walked inside. While Ludwig counted out coins and bills, I glanced at the tip jar—empty.
It was only then that it dawned on me that in a small town like this one, there wouldn't be much need for an art shop or even a gallery. I doubted that they made enough money with this place.
Doing anything about the siblings' situation would be risky, but I couldn't just stand there and watch as they gradually became poorer and poorer. I started with tapping on Ludwig's arm, then pulling on the fabric when he didn't respond.
"Ludwig. Hey…hey, Ludwig."
He sounded busy, "Ja, what is it Feli?"
I couldn't help but smile when he said 'Feli'. He'd been speaking German for quite a while, and it had made his accent thicken considerably; not that I minded. I wonder what it would sound like if he said my real name that way. Someday I should ask him what it translated to in German.
"Can I do something really quick?" I asked him.
Ludwig's eyebrows came together and he must have been wondering what I was going to do. "Sure, don't let me stop you." His voice made the statement turn into more of a curious question.
The brother and sister were watching our exchange and I turned back toward them.
"Uh…guten tag!" Being as I've travelled to so many places, and I've had a lot of time on my hands, I've picked up a couple of languages. It had been a while since I'd needed German, and it seemed like these two didn't know English.
Somehow this was going to work.
"Guten tag," the brother said. His face was guarded, but interested in what I was up to.
I racked my brain for something to say before finding something that would work. "Um… Wie geht's es Ihnen?"
This time the sister answered. Her voice was petite and she smiled at me. "Wir sind wohlauf, und Sie?"
I didn't know exactly what had been said, but I understood enough to know that she'd meant that they were doing ok and that she asked how I was. I returned the smile and answered, "Gut! Buono!"
Ludwig had his arms folded casually, one hand holding the bags of art supplies, and was watching the whole conversation with mild interest. My accent must have been thick. I wondered what it sounded like to him. Italian? Greek? American maybe—I've spent a considerable amount of time in America lately.
Now was not the time to get side tracked. I smiled again and held out my hand to the girl. She seemed the more willing to take it first. The little girl glanced up at her brother, who nodded, and she shyly took my offered hand.
This was the hard part. I closed my eyes and took a quiet deep breath. At first she tried to slide her hand out of my grip, but I held on. Images of two little kids running through a flower field entered my head for a split second. Their laughter echoed in my mind long after our touch ended.
She looked at me, truly looked at me. I don't think she knew who I actually was, but somewhere deep down the girl on the other side of the counter realized I was different.
The brother said something to her and glared at me. I realized that he was the same person that had been shooting at me for being in his field a couple days back. He tried to turn his sister around, but she looked up at him and told him something I couldn't follow. That didn't matter though; only by the light bounce in her voice I could tell that it had worked. She smiled and glanced at me again.
"Danke." Even I knew what that meant.
I quickly smiled back and waved, "Bitte schön! Auf wiedersehen!"
Ludwig was already holding the bags with my new art supplies, so I turned and started to walk through the doorway and out past the gallery. There was the sound of small feet on the hardwood floor and I looked back over my shoulder.
The girl smiled again, "Auf wiedersehen, Herr."
It wasn't until we were back at his house and I was taking the oil paints out of the bag that Ludwig said something.
"What was that?" He sounded serious, which I've learned by now, never amounts to good things.
Using my fingernails, I peeled a price sticker off of one of the paint brushes. "What was what?" my voice fluttered in a happy-go-lucky way compared to his 'no nonsense' tone.
I hadn't looked up, but I still heard him cross his arms when he said, "You know what. What did you do?"
This time I dared to return his gaze. It was scary the way that those blue eyes seemed to have turned to ice. I tried not to cower down, but he was intimidating for sure.
Seeing that I wasn't answering any time soon, Ludwig tried a different angle, "Where ever you go, it's like... people are suddenly... I don't know, happier. Then that thing back at the shop. What is it? How do you do that?"
The risk had been taken, and it seemed there wasn't any getting out of this one for me. I couldn't walk away—he still needed my help, but I couldn't tell him either. I doubt he'd ever believe me. People never do.
Then again, he wasn't merely people, and I'd helped him before. He was different somehow. When I thought about it, I genuinely wanted to tell him.
Instead I settled with, "Some people need to see a smile every once and a while."
"But it's not just a smile."
"Happy attitude then."
"No..."
"A bit of a spring in their step?"
"Feliciano," he warned.
"Ludwig," I kept my tone happy and tilted my head only a bit as I looked up at azure eyes.
He closed his eyes for a second and let out a breath. "I barely know you and you're living in my house, you made breakfast for me, clean even, and you showed up at... his funeral. I have a right to know what's going on."
Maybe I should tell him.
"My real name is Hope." I blurted out. Had to start somewhere, I guess.
He didn't seem to follow, "What does that have to do with anything? I mean, I suppose that's important to know, but why tell me now?"
I sighed and tried to explain, "My name isn't just Hope; I am Hope."
"But how can a person be Hope? It's an emotion. That's physically impossible," he argued.
"It's like how you're Ludwig; a person, blond hair, blue eyes, works as the town's handyman but is technically a blacksmith, likes sausages and good work. I'm Hope; an emotion, brown-red hair, brown eyes, helps people when they need it, likes painting and cooking."
He still looked puzzled so I tried to explain it differently.
"Ok, so think of it like… pasta!"
Ludwig interjected with a questioning look, "Pasta?"
I nodded once and continued, "Sí, pasta. Like how Penne and Pennoni are two really similar types of pasta, but Pennoni is wider that Penne. They're both pasta that seems very alike, but not the same type of pasta exactly."
He was still giving me that look of confusion.
Well then it was back to the basics of the basics. This time I tried to go slow, "Have you ever heard the story of Pandora's Box?"
"Ja, of course."
"Inside was trapped a lot of emotions, but when Pandora opened it, they all flew out until only Hope was left in the box. Without thinking, she closed it…" I paused and bit my lip, "She didn't see me and locked me up inside. It took so long to find a way out."
There was the rustle of Ludwig moving to sit down next to me, and I waited until he sat on the other chair at the table before continuing, "I did figure out how to get out though, and that's what matters. Anyway, there are a whole bunch of emotions out there, all living off of people's feelings and reactions. It's never happened before, but I guess if no one in the world was feeling a particular emotion, they would die…or kind of disappear…maybe."
I paused to search his stony blue eyes for any anger or bewilderment. However, all I found were two icy orbs waiting for me to speak again, and trying to keep up.
"All emotions divide up into two categories: negative emotions, and positive emotions. The negatives try to keep as many people as they can feeling very negatively. The more people feeling a particular emotion, the more powerful that emotion is. When bad things happen—like a war or a government collapsing—things start to get worse and worse, which means that the negative emotions are getting stronger and stronger. When everyone is happy the positive emotions are stronger."
This time I was distracted as the little yellow bird fluttered into the room. He landed on my knee and tilted his head. It was like he wanted me to continue. I glanced over at Ludwig, and he merely blinked before I opened my mouth again to speak.
"When everyone first came out of Pandora's Box, we didn't actually know what to do. No one had told us how to keep everything balance, or what we even were. It took a long time before any of us figured out what to do, and our methods were very painful to the humans they were applied to. When we were first finding out that we played a part in humans' reactions and feelings, we didn't handle the situations very well. Instead of standing by and trying to coax a person into feeling happier or sadder, we would use an old type of…well, magic," my voice was starting to speed up, but Ludwig looked like he was still following at least a little bit, "It worked when an emotion concentrates and empties their mind. Then they fill themselves with their emotion and touch a person. That person absorbs the emotions, but the whole process is really sudden. If one person goes through that process too much, then their mind and body can seriously suffer. When negative emotions do that it's even worse because the person is already a bit unsteady from taking in so much, and then on top of that, everything they took in is completely negative.
"After a while we figured out that it was a lot better to just disappear into the background and try to do simple things that make people happier or sadder. There are still some emotions that use the old methods though. We don't generally talk or even see each other, but news still travels."
I let my voice fade away as I watched Ludwig's reaction, but his face gave nothing away. I shifted in my seat and bit my lip again, "Ve~ Do you have any questions?"
He leaned back in his chair and stared me down, "Well—" I could tell that he was trying to pick one out of many to ask first, "—if you've lived for as long as you say, why do you only look in your early twenties?"
"Emotions don't exactly age. We can pick how old we are depending on what we need to do. Like if I wanted to help a little kid, then I'd make myself more around their age. I like being twenty-two the most though, because it's perfect for most things and changing ages hurts."
It wasn't five seconds before another question popped up.
"Do you need to eat? I would think so, but you only eat when I'm eating with you. That or every time you're hungry you go out."
I tilted my head in question, "Ve~ How do you know I'm not eating during the day?"
His eyes travelled to the fridge and then flickered to the small kitchen pantry, "There isn't anything missing from the refrigerator nor the pantry."
Hm. I hadn't thought of that... "Sí, I don't need to eat or drink or sleep either! Another question?"
Ludwig ran a hand through slicked-back hair. "Why are you here? If you are who you say you are, and I'm supposed to believe that you…emotions have been wandering around all this time, then why are you here?" His voice had an edge to it now, a serious edge that demanded a response immediately.
This answer was simple and I was sure we both knew it already, but it needed saying anyway.
"Because you needed me."
After a while the two of us fell into a schedule. I would make breakfast, Ludwig would get ready for work, and then we'd both sit down to eat before he left. After that I would do a few chores around the house and walk the dogs—more like they would walk me. Then I'd make dinner and he'd come back home in time to eat. We would sit at the dinner table again and he would tell me about his day or I'd answer a question that he'd thought of during the day. A lot of the time I didn't know how to answer it; like when he asked how many of us there were or why we were trapped in Pandora's Box in the first place. Then he'd go to bed and I'd wait for him to fall asleep before sneaking up after him to make sure that he would be ok during the night.
Usually I had to leave sometime during the day to help someone who needed me. Ludwig called that my "work trips" and after a mishap involving a lot of confusion, I would try to leave him a note before I left. Normally I had just enough time to scribble something down on a napkin or pad of paper if I kept a pen on hand.
I don't like keeping track of time, and usually never know how long it's been or what the day is, but I know I've been living with Ludwig for nine days now.
It was Sunday, and I'd gotten him to take the day off for the sake of taking a day off and spending some time relaxing. I was sitting on the floor, sketching, while Ludwig read. I was using the side of his chair as a backrest, so his voice came from above and behind me when he spoke.
"You're…uh welcome to stay here, if you want."
His hesitant voice and the dust of pink that was bound to be on his cheeks made the corner of my mouth twitch up.
"Hehe, I know that Luddy!" I beamed, tilted my head back, and looked up at him. My eyes caught sight of those pretty blues.
I don't know why I suddenly understood it then.
Or where it came from.
Or how I didn't notice earlier.
But my heart melted.
And while he went back to reading the book in his lap like nothing had happened, I realized one very clear truth.
I, the emotion Hope, Feliciano Vargas, was very much in love with Ludwig Beilschmidt, a human.
It wasn't that I was in love with another man that was the problem—after all technically I could change my gender if I really wanted to. It was more that I was an emotion, and the fact that I'd never actually be able to stay in one place for more than a couple days, let alone "settle down" one day. Come to think of it, there was no doubt that I'd out live Ludwig. I'd out live him by a long shot. How would I be able to deal with loosing someone like that? I'd never fallen in love before. As far as I know, no other emotion has. Oh gosh, how would I be able to deal with the funeral? What if he never liked me back or maybe he was straight. Ludwig seemed like someone who'd be straight, but then again what did I know? I wasn't a human. I didn't—still don't and probably never will—know how that works! This was set up for all kinds of failures with all of these "what if?"s and "eventually…"s.
I think I had started to hyperventilate or something, because suddenly the very subject of my thoughts had set his book down on the side table and placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Feli?...H-hope?" He said the last part hesitantly, and it took me a moment to realize that he'd called me by my actual name. Even though he had been a bit shaky getting it out, I still couldn't deny that his accent made my name sound pretty.
Wow, this was even worse than when I'd found out about pasta.
I tried to go for an air-head smile when I looked up for the second time, "What is it Luddy?"
The hand retreated back and he sighed before I heard him open up the book again, "Nothing."
As he went back to reading, and I—tried to—went back to lazily sketching, a shadow flickered past the kitchen window, but it wasn't a cloud meaning rain, so I didn't bother thinking about it long.
The next morning, bright and early, Ludwig came downstairs in a hurry. I didn't even have to ask him why be in such a rush. He told me anyway.
"Someone from the city is coming in today. I have to get to the shop early to prepare for when they get there." He said and I quickly handed him a paper bag with his lunch in it.
"Give me a second and I'll wrap up your breakfast," I dashed around the kitchen that I'd become so familiar with over the last few days. I knew where everything's place was, and everything was more or less in that place—for the most part.
He stood, tapping out a rhythm on his trouser leg and glancing at the clock every three seconds. I finally managed to wrap up the sandwich and find a container for the still-warm eggs. Ludwig nodded to me when I handed him the second bag.
"Remember, I give you food for a reason; take a break to eat during the day, sí?" When I'd found out that he usually skipped lunch in favour of getting more work done, I'd quickly put a stop to that. He liked my cooking too much to throw it away and came back with an empty bag, so I knew that the effort was welcomed.
When he replied with, "Ja, ja," it felt so natural to kiss his cheek goodbye that I didn't realize that it'd happen until Ludwig was out the door and on his way to his family's blacksmith shop.
I don't think he really noticed either.
He let me do it again the next day, and that's all that mattered.
After days of staying with Ludwig—of cooking and cleaning and sketching and being happy—during dinner one night, the doorbell rang. During my entire stay here, I've only heard someone at the door once, and that someone was there to let us know that Blackie had jumped the fence.
Said dog and his two companions gave loyal barks until Ludwig shouted something in German that I assumed meant "be quiet".
"I'll get it," He said after the three dogs quieted down.
I put a hand to his strong shoulder and smiled, "No, I can go get it. You'll finish up dinner. If it's important then I'll come get you."
He looked about to protest, but another ring from the doorbell and I was off down the hall.
"Coming! One mo—…"
Standing in front of me was someone that I hadn't seen in a long long time.
Energetic blue eyes sparkled behind wire framed glasses and that stubborn hair still poked up into the sky like it was getting ready to fly away.
"Hey dude! Do you know how frickin' hard it is to find you?"
I stood there and looked at him.
"Of course, I just had to ask around a bit before I found someone who knew where you'd gone and disappeared to. Dude, seriously, vacations over. Everyone else has to work almost double-timed to simply try and keep up without you helpin' out. It's getting as difficult to keep up as during Great Depression. Really, Hope, you know we can't just slack off whenever. The stupid negatives are gaining ground on us. I never get the chance to stop by Arthur's anymore. Hey, are you even listening to anything I'm saying here?"
Apparently I'd been too long at the door, because I heard a voice come from behind me. I hadn't even known he'd walked down the hall after me.
"Feli, who's this?" Ludwig asked, standing with one arm on the open door level with my head and the other holding back one of the dog's collars. I could feel the smaller body bump against my leg as Berlitz tried to escape outside.
I didn't get the chance to reply, the man on our doorstep answered first.
"Wow, dude you're like a giant or something!" he turned to look back to me with the grin that never truly left his face, "Hope, this guy's gotta bunch of courage; I can already tell. What are you doin' here with him then?"
"Who are you?" Ludwig repeated. I guess he didn't like that this stranger was chattering away on our doorstep. I knew who it was, and I wasn't all that happy about the random visit either. Random visits never meant good news, and so far this one followed the theme.
The man outside of our door glanced to me and I nodded.
"I'm Courage, but I go by Alfred F. Jones right now!"
I don't think Ludwig was expecting that, because he stood there just looking over my shoulder for a couple of seconds before opening the door a bit wider and sending Berlitz back down the hall.
"You can come in," he looked down at me, "if Feli doesn't mind."
Truthfully, I didn't want to be talking to Courage right now, but I couldn't be impolite to him and leave him outside after he was already invited in. Shaking my head I said, "Nope! I don't mind at all~"
Courage, or Alfred as he was calling himself now, raised his hands up in defeat, "Love to, but I gotta go."
He gave me one last pointed look, "Get back to helping people Hope. Even Antonio and Feliks are getting tired out at this point. An-" his words were broken by a wince and a cringe, "Crap. Really gotta leave. You know how it is."
Ludwig frowned, confused, but I simply sighed. Courage quickly looked down the street to make sure that we were indeed the only witnesses before giving a sloppy salute and vanishing into thin air.
To me, that sort of exit was perfectly normal, but I'd forgotten that Ludwig had never actually seen an emotion transport before.
"Where did he go? One second he's there and then next, simply gone!"
I looked up at him and smiled before closing the door as I answered his question, "He transported. When someone truly needs one of us, we're literally dragged to them. Sometimes if it's a very weak connection, we can ignore it, but most of the time that only hurts a lot and we transport anyway…"
"Do you know that from experience?" Ludwig asked. Somehow, I had known he would.
"Sí, I've tried to stay in one place before. After a while, with all of the travelling and no breaks, you get tired of it. I'm surprised I've been able to live here this long." I looked up at him and let the corners of my mouth twitch up, "Ve~ I must really want to stay with you then."
My confidence rose when his cheeks tinted pink and he changed the subject, "The dinner's getting cold. We better eat it before we have to reheat our plates."
With that we returned to our meal, and the rest of it was eaten in thought filled silence.
Both of us knew this wasn't going to last long.
One day, I'd be dragged off somewhere else, and I wouldn't be able to return.
It may be foolish to do so, but right then, I hoped that day would never come.
That night, while Ludwig slept in peaceful bliss next to me, I decided that if I ever had to leave, I would tell him.
I sat on the couch, lazily sketching a sleepy Aster while I waited for Ludwig to come home. It wasn't long before the familiar sound of feet on the steps out front made me straighten up and look to the hall expectantly.
Instead of sweeping in with a casual sigh and asking what was for dinner, my blonde friend trudged into the living room muttering something under his breath and generally looking irritated.
"Did something happen at work?" I asked curiously, setting my sketchpad down on the coffee table.
His eyes wondered along the floor a bit before realizing I had spoken and shot up to my face. Those happy azures were now like little blue fires. When he spoke his voice was clipped and annoyed, his nose crinkled, "Ja."
I sat up and patted the couch next to me, "Come tell me about it."
After a silent pause of mental debate, Ludwig walked over and crashed back into the cushions. It wasn't long before I was wrapped up in a story about how people were idiots.
"—and he even dared to boast about his stupid shop! You don't just hop to the next town over and brag to their blacksmith about how yours is so great! I don't care if he was selling old parts or not," a hand went up to run through his slicked back hair, "What's worse is his sister was hitting on me the entire time. She wouldn't give me a second of peace without chatting on about something and expecting me to sit there and listen."
I extended a hand to flatten his now messed up hair back to its original state. "Hmmm, I don't think our usual dinner is going to cut it today," I shook my head, "Nope, this calls for something different."
Now was his turn to be curious. Ludwig frowned and asked the question I had known would come, "What are you thinking of?"
I looked up at him through my eyelashes, letting my mouth spread into a beaming grin and giving in to that verbal tick of mine, "Ve~ you have tomorrow off, right Luddy?"
We had to hurry; I dragged Ludwig behind me, his wrist safe in my grip. I stumbled in my run, but nothing would stop me. Nothing.
"Feli! Where are we going?!"
I smiled and risked a glance back, "To a happy place of course!" I watched his face turn into confusion and laughed. I didn't wait to see his reaction, for fear that I actually would lose my footing and fall on the now dirt road. The sun was starting to dip below the edges of the hills covered by farmers' rows to the west. Instead of being disappointed in the shortening amount of daylight left, I simply ran faster and kept smiling.
I bet you could see all of the stars in the sky from where we were headed.
It didn't take long for us to reach our destination. I let go of Ludwig's hand and waited for my panting breath to slow. Neither he nor I could talk at this point, but he raised an eyebrow at me in question.
There was no time to waste on something silly like waiting for our hearts to calm. I grabbed his hand this time, yanking him forward into the grass. He had no choice but to follow. I led us through the greenery that was waist high in some places using no path but one made up as I went. There were loop-de-loops, zigzags, and constant sudden changes in direction, but this was the only way to get where I wanted to go.
"Feliciano, where are you taking me?" Ludwig asked again. I ignored him this time though, choosing to let the answer reveal itself when we got there.
After probably an hour of trekking through the field, we came to the end of our journey. I guess I could have settled for some other spot closer to the road, or gone in a straight line to get here, but then we would have been able to get back easily; we wouldn't be so lost and far from anyone else as we were now. It wouldn't have truly been only the two of us with no one else, and I couldn't stand for anything less than perfect. Less than perfect would mean that I had given up on Ludwig; that was something I had and would never do.
Ever.
It took me a moment to realize that I'd just been standing and staring at Ludwig. He was looking right back, and I knew that I wasn't the only that had been doing some serious thinking since we stopped. That I certainly could not let happen; this was going to be our time to be happy, and that did not allow for serious thinking. Even when the thinker looked really handsome right then.
"Hey, Ludwig?" I asked and he came out of that little trance of his.
"Ja, Feli?" he replied.
I adopted a very solemn face and looked him in the eyes, "Do you know how to make daisy chains?"
The day we both dreaded finally came.
I was teaching Ludwig how to make gnocchi while the veggies that he had prepared were boiling. We had already made the potato based dough, and I was helping him roll out the long ropes that we would cut into the pasta pieces. I was smiling and trying not to laugh when he used too much pressure and flattened the dough into a little belt.
"No, no," I was interrupted by a giggling fit, "you have to be gentle. Don't be so hard on them! Here," I took a newly cut portion to demonstrate, "watch what I do."
He nodded and paid close attention while I carefully and slowly rolled the dough, moving from the centre to the outer edges so that everything was even and there weren't large lumps. Once it was the right length and rolled with ease across the kitchen's flour covered counter, I turned to Ludwig and told him to try another time.
"Maybe I should stick with the side dish and let you handle the pas— Feli? Feli what's wrong?"
No. Not now. Why now? I screwed up my face and clutched a fist into my powdered white apron while the other braced me on the counter edge. I bit my lower lip and took a deep, slightly shaky breath to calm myself. If I didn't panic I would have barely enough time to tell him goodbye. As much as I wanted to stay, and as much as I felt like breaking down and crying, I had to be strong. I had to say goodbye this time.
I had to.
"L-Luddy, someone n-needs me." I looked at the ground, not meeting his eyes.
Without seeing his face, I knew Ludwig had stiffened and all happiness had evaporated. The gates were closing. The gates that lead into his carefully guarded heart. He was preparing himself to loose someone for a third time. Three times too many.
"Will you be back by tomorrow morning?" He knew the question was pointless. This wasn't like those other times where I could make a few quick rounds before coming back home to him.
"I don't know." My voice sounded too unnerved. Too lost to be comforting.
More hopelessness. More people that needed me. More people that were suffering because I wanted to stay. My legs wobbled and I slid down into a kneeling heap on the floor, one hand still reaching up to the top of the wooden drawers.
"L-Ludwig?" I finally looked up. His eyes, those beautiful pools of brilliant blue waters; they were frozen again. I think I saw him flinch a bit.
"Ja?" He replied, edging me to continue.
I could feel it, the pull. It was already working at me. I didn't know if I'd have enough seconds, or if this was the right thing to do, but I could already feel the tears running down my face and a sob almost broke off the words that came next.
"Ti amo! Ti amo, Ludwig!" I cried out in a watery mess.
His eyes widened and his mouth opened. A hand covered in forgotten flour reached out and grasped the wrist of my arm that stretched up to grip the counter.
"Feli, Ic—"
I sat in a grassy park in the middle of a busy American metropolis. People rushed by without a second thought. The sun was shining, tilted at just before noon. Somewhere there was child's laughter and the bark of a dog. The chatter of businessmen on their cell phones buzzed in the air while the noise of a million restless feet beating against the ground formed a nonsensical rhythm around me.
A woman walking along the path to my left stopped and looked at my tear stained face and puffy eyes. "Hey, are you ok?" Her voice was warm and concerned.
I thought about ignoring her, but then she'd merely keep asking, and I couldn't do that to someone who was simply trying to help. Instead I put on a hesitant and slightly twitchy smile before answering her.
"S-sí, I am. I was just thinking about… sad things, grazie."
Her returning grin was much more radiant, "Oh, ok. Have a nice day, sir."
I nodded, but otherwise didn't move except to utter a half-hearted, "Addio," as she moved on to continue her routine of work.
I realized that I'd never said goodbye to him.
It was a long time before I stopped crying.
Four years.
It was four years until I tracked down the right German village again. I'd never remembered the name of it, and only had a few fuzzy street names to go off of. With no other choice, I'd found my way to any small village that matched the basic description of Ludwig's. Most of the time I had to find a way to get there by public transport, because transporting without a link to someone is very difficult, and I've only done it a handful of times. The majority of the time, I found myself in the nearest city to my destination and having to walk or bike the long miles simply to find that it was the wrong place again.
Courage told me to give up already, and Bliss said I should move on, but I wasn't going to. I couldn't give up, not now.
That was another thing. Since I'd lost Ludwig, the other positive emotions have been talking and visiting more. We're all getting closer, almost like a family. I think that they felt bad for me, but it was nice to have friends and people that I could talk to.
Still, they expected me to eventually give up and bury the memories of that blonde German once more. I wasn't going to though. I did that once, and I wasn't letting it happen again.
Four years.
Then I saw it. The first thing I recognized was the marketplace. After such a long time I still remembered the busy walkway crystal clear. It was the only location besides the field and Ludwig's house that I could still place.
Same street, a few different shops, but one look and I knew it was the one. For a while I could only stand and watch as the townspeople carried on like today was any other. It was surreal; they would be going home today, making dinner, and continuing their lives normally without knowing how today had changed the world.
Or, at least, that it changed mine.
From there I walked to Ludwig's house. A few of the streets were familiar, but it took me a while before I could find the right quant house with five front steps, two tall windows on either side of the door, and a black knocker in the shape of a hawk taking off into the blue skies above.
I stood at the front door, debating. Knock? Walk in? Was he even home? Did he even live here anymore? Had he moved on, was I just a forgotten memory? Would it be worth it to go inside, or was I making a mistake? Pasta for dinner or should we make German food? Was Gilbird still there, and all the dogs?
Somewhere in between I guess my body had reverted to years of walking up those same worn steps intent on making dinner. Before I knew any different, I was walking down the hall toward the kitchen.
Two of the dogs—Blackie and Berlitz—came running from upstairs and gave a greeting bark before begging for pets. I smiled down at them and granted their desire for attention before moving on to the tile floors of the room beyond.
It wasn't long before I heard the familiar chirp and looked around for the yellow bird in question when I saw it.
The wall, it was covered in my art.
Ludwig must have found my sketchbooks after I had left and taken every sheet of paper and canvas. A few of them were framed, but almost all of the drawings were simply taped to form a collage on the wall that separated the kitchen from the living room.
Aster's sleeping face dominated one corner while pictures of the kitchen were splattered down the opposite side in a crooked line. Across the top ran pictures I'd drawn from the top of my head of Italy villages. Down at the bottom of the line of kitchen scenes was a cluster of pictures of the vase of flowers that I had brought home once. There were pictures of people from town sprinkled throughout the entire collage, as well as little sketches and doodles. I even spotted the picture of a setting sun that I'd drawn on a napkin hanging up. I noticed that the pictures of Ludwig that I had drawn—many were of him reading since that was when I could study him without movement—were sprawled out from toward the middle to the corner of Asher and alongside of a group of meadow paintings.
It was beautiful, and at the very centre, the place that deserved the most prized drawing, the most captivating painting, was a very simple sketch. It wasn't penned, nor was it shaded, and the lines had been smudged and faded over time, but its original appearance was still very clear.
I smiled and retreated back into the living room to grab my sketchbook from the spot it had claimed on the top ledge of a bookshelf. Nicking a forgotten pencil from the coffee table, I sat down to draw like so many other days from long ago.
Sometimes it takes a while before my thoughts start flowing into lead. I sit and ponder things while I wait for a subject to come to me, but this process was wholly skipped today. No need to wait now; I had everything I needed. The little bird peered from over my shoulder and the dogs sat down at the base of the chair in curiosity. What was he drawing?
Why only the best picture for him.
I don't know how long it was. I have trouble keeping track of time normally, but it was impossible when I was drawing. No distractions; just pencil, paper, and mind.
Only one thing would bring me back to the present: Ludwig Beilschmidt.
And suddenly he was there. I hadn't heard the door open, but it must have. I hadn't noticed the dogs bounce over to great them, but there they were. At some point eve the bird had gotten up and flown off. The sun's light had dimmed as they wore on.
He was there. Right in front of me, standing in the doorway like a frozen image of four years ago. He looked the same—blonde hair slicked back, a t-shirt and pair of pants that would be fit for working with a forge. He was still strong and unmoveable as before, but his eyes were different. Not melted endless lakes nor frozen glaciers, but cold pieces of cut sapphire; gems that could not be broken or changed.
I don't know who moved first, but we were standing halfway between the couch and the doorway hugging each other tight until it was hard to breath, and even then neither of us lessened our grip on the other. I was soon a crying mess of tears staining his shirt front, and he was holding me so close that my feet lifted up off the ground and only the very tips of my toes were touching the carpet.
I was the first one to speak, and it was shaky, but sure and true, "Ti amo! Ti amo!" The words were mixed with sobs and muffled by my face pressed into his chest.
Ludwig smiled against my hair and I could feel his heart speed up before he took a deep breath. He only said four words, but they were the best thing I've heard in a very long time.
"Hope, Ich liebe dich."
Only then did I realize he was crying too.
Nothing was said after that. I made sure of it when I raised my head and met his lips with mine.
It was like no other kiss. One second we were crying in each other's arms and the next the world was a mess of emotions and feelings. Joy, Love, Kindness, Compassion, Happiness, Wonder, Bliss, and Hope. So much Hope. The others were washed away by four years of Hope. Hope that one day he'd see me at the door, Hope that the next town I came to was the town. Hope that he hadn't moved, Hope that I was still searching, Hope for a sing-song laugh, Hope for a brass chuckle, Hope for that smile, Hope to those eyes again.
A brilliant burst of pure Hope that left us both feeling like someone had put our finger in a socket for ten hours.
Needless to say, we both went back for more.
I stood in front of the Kitchen Collage as it had been named. Ludwig's arm wrapped around me like a blanket and I took a moment to beam at him before looking back to the pictures before me.
A piece of thick drawing paper dangled from the tips of my fingers, waiting to be put up, but I wanted to wait and commit the current centrepiece to memory.
On that not-out-of-the-ordinary piece of paper were two little boys sitting under a tree. The one on the left was talking happily and laughing with joy while the one on the right wore black. He was wiping a tear streaked face and looked like he might burst into tears again any second. The two friends' little hands were clutched together tightly as if a strong wind would pick one up and blow them apart any second.
"Shall I do the honours?" Ludwig asked me. I nodded while he took the new sheet of paper from my hands and stepped forward. It was carefully placed over the old so that the corners were tilted a bit to allow the edges of the drawing below to show, but other than that the other picture was hidden behind this new piece.
The style was still the same; however the picture was more complete. Lines were obvious and both shading and colour had been added. The scene was the same, but the two subjects were changed ever so slightly.
Instead of the little children, the grown-up versions sat under those summer green leaves in a not-so-distant world of colour pencils. Everything else was the exact same, save one thing.
We were both laughing.
Ludwig and I were walking down the street. I swung our linked hands and hummed a bouncy Italian song under my breath. It was Sunday, so Ludwig had the day off, and we were taking time together while we could.
As the two of us were headed to the market to get food for the coming week, I felt like someone behind us was looking at me, but no one else was on the street. The last person we'd passed had been the older brother that lived behind the art shop—Luddy told me his name, but I don't remember it—and he'd been going inside.
I glanced back down the road, and we were indeed not alone.
A man with blonde hair tied back into a loose ponytail with what appeared to be a ribbon was walking behind us. He was far enough back that it wasn't following, but close enough that I could tell that his eyes were blue. When he realized that I was watching, he winked and a smile pushed the stubble on his jawline out to make room.
Quickly, I glanced to Ludwig, who was off in his own little world, and then back at the man, who gracefully blew me a kiss.
I blinked.
It was like he hadn't even existed.
Ludwig must have noticed my glances and the sudden silence, because his mouth formed a hard line in concern, "What is it Feliciano?"
I blinked my eyes a few times in rapid succession before turning to look at him and beaming with a bright happy smile.
"Oh nothing," I reassured him and he relaxed, "I just thought I saw someone I know."
He knew who I was talking about. I didn't know many people and "someone" could only be another emotion.
We both continued to walk in silence before Ludwig asked another question, one I'd been waiting for. "Who was it?"
I looked up at him, meeting eyes that had melted from the icebergs and sapphires that I'd once known into cool blue lakes, "People rarely notice him—he likes to go unnoticed if he can—and I've only seen him one time before," there was a gap where I took a small breath and smiled, "He's called Love."
A/N: Ah I love all of those cliffhangers! They're fun to write, but I hate reading them. I was so happy when I finished this, people kept asking me if I'd had too much sugar or caffeine ^^" France was actually the first character to get a role, though he barely shows up in this story. If I do more of these emotion!AU stories, I'm going to try and include him a bit more.
Questions? Comments? Excited spazzes (It's ok, I do that all the time, feel free to share)? Reviews are always welcomed, da? ^J^