A/N : SweGer. Shameless fluff. Mute!Berwald.

HARMONIA

For the most part, Ludwig loved his job. Not many people really got to work with their big brother in a setting they enjoyed, so Ludwig considered himself rather lucky in that aspect.

Francis had opened a bakery, and Gilbert, being his best friend, had of course joined in. Ludwig, considering Francis his other big brother in a sense, had immediately asked to be a part of it as well. Francis had been happy to have Ludwig with him, because Ludwig had a penchant for baking as much as Francis did, as Gilbert just sort of clamored about and tried his best while usually making a mess.

But Gilbert had no people skills, and so Ludwig had been relegated to working the counter. It was his first job ever, being only eighteen, but he was a hell of a lot more efficient with customers than Gilbert was. Francis was relieved, to say the least.

The shop did very well, and they were all quite content with their positions. Ludwig, for his part, got a needed dose of adulting, and learned to interact with people normally. He wasn't talkative at all, but dutifully nodded his head and added necessary input when regulars chewed his ear off. He liked it, liked seeing familiar faces. Liked seeing the same people on the same days ordering the same thing. Made his sense of order and routine feel quite secure, and even though Francis literally worked him seven days a week, Ludwig loved it.

Everyone had their favorites, of course, and Ludwig had his own particular favorite customer.

He was Ludwig's favorite because he didn't talk at all, and Ludwig was very excited about that, communicating entirely with nods and eye contact. It was a nice change from the old ladies that babbled endlessly and the young girls that tried to flirt with him.

Ludwig's favorite man was...odd.

Very tall, very big. Rather intimidating. Frightening at a glance, for his stature and very serious face, but it hadn't taken many visits for Ludwig to realize he was entirely harmless. Big and gruff as he was, he was always very calm and polite. Smiled from time to time. His clothes were a little sloppy, never ironed his shirt, and his glasses could have used a bit of a cleaning. His blond hair was always rather messy. Seemed laidback enough, rather amicable, despite his appearance.

But he didn't speak, and Ludwig wasn't sure if he didn't speak German and that was why he nodded and pointed, or if he just didn't speak at all. Ludwig had far too much tact to ever ask, and indeed he never uttered a word to that man because that man never uttered a word to him. They just briefly met each other's eyes, smiled, inclined their heads, and left it there.

That man came almost every day, with the exception of Sunday and Tuesday.

By now, the man didn't even bother pointing anymore, because Ludwig knew his order and gathered it up the second he saw him coming in. Nothing fancy, just a coffee to go and a few pieces of sweet bread. The man always seemed quite pleased by Ludwig knowing his mind, smiling rather attractively as he pulled out his wallet, and sometimes Ludwig felt that the man lingered for a while in front of the register and gave him a bit of a look over.

He may have also been Ludwig's favorite customer because Ludwig found him very handsome.

They went many weeks merely staring at each other, until one day the man came in, dressed far more neatly than he usually was. Ludwig had eyed him up and down, smiled a little at his appearance, and began gathering up his usual order. He was interrupted when the man came up to the counter and slid a piece of paper across it.

Ludwig glanced down, startled, and took it.

It was a list of many different things, and Ludwig was quick to realize that the man was apparently buying for a larger group of people. Ah—so he couldn't speak, after all. Ludwig assumed he was deaf, but when he meant to scribble his inquiry of whether the man wanted a plastic or paper bag, the man gestured and caught his attention.

He pointed to his ear and made a motion that Ludwig could only interpret as, 'I can hear you.'

Oh.

Mute, then. Interesting. Had never met anyone that just couldn't speak. Feeling a bit awkward and a little embarrassed for whatever reason, Ludwig tried to play it off, as he gathered the requested items, and said, "I just thought you didn't wanna talk to me. I'm glad."

Why had he said that?

Ah, shit—now he felt more embarrassed than before. And he accused Gilbert of having no people skills. Damn, damn, damn!

Luckily, the man was far from offended, and smiled more sincerely than Ludwig had ever seen. A pretty smile, and Ludwig fumbled around for a while, feeling dumb and classless. When it came time for payment, the man scribbled another note and handed it over.

Just a simple greeting of sorts.

'My name is Berwald. You are?'

Ludwig perked up, relieved he hadn't lost a customer, and felt himself smiling as he said, "I'm Ludwig. Nice to meet you. Sort of."

He stuck his hand awkwardly forward, the man shook it, and that was when he officially met Berwald for the first time. Interesting name. Hadn't heard that one.

Berwald took his leave, as he always did, and Ludwig zoned out a little and daydreamed. Berwald was actually very handsome indeed, and seemed like a nice enough guy. Older than Ludwig was by a fair bit, but he always came in alone and Ludwig sure as hell didn't see a wedding ring on his finger. Not that he had looked every day or anything. Certainly not.

Handsome, alright.

Being mute was hardly a turnoff. Actually, Ludwig considered that very much a positive, because he didn't talk much either and lord knew between Gilbert and Francis he heard enough chatter to last a lifetime. Was kinda nice, that silence. Strange, getting to know someone through written word.

He spent the day pondering this and that, and when it was time to close up, Ludwig swept the floor and then asked Francis, out of the blue, "Hey—do mute people learn sign language like deaf people do?"

Francis and Gilbert turned to look at him, cleaning up, and seemed perplexed.

Francis lifted a shoulder, and uttered, "Um. I don't know. Kinda random."

Gilbert scoffed a little, as he often did when his little brother was being strange.

Ludwig mulled it over, and could really only wait until the next day to see Berwald and just ask him. Maybe he was a bit too interested in Berwald, a little too curious, but Ludwig was quite single indeed.

The next day, Berwald came in at his usual time, and Ludwig straightened up perfectly and smiled, because he was beginning to hone in on Berwald and Berwald wasn't going to easily escape him now that they had introduced themselves.

Berwald saw his smile, quirked a brow, and lifted his chin, very clearly asking, 'What?'

As he made Berwald's coffee, Ludwig rested his elbow on the counter, chin in palm, and looked Berwald over quite intently. Berwald held his gaze very evenly, and Ludwig asked, "So. Do you use sign language?"

Because if so then Ludwig would absolutely sit down and learn it. Not because Berwald didn't have a wedding ring, though.

He glanced down at Berwald's hand, subconsciously.

But Berwald shook his head, and just made a gesture for writing. No sign language, huh? That made it easier. Supposed Berwald was used to just writing everything down. Ludwig straightened back up, looked around a little, and shifted his weight. Wanted so badly to put himself out there a little, but didn't want to come off as desperate and pathetic, and more than that he didn't want to fumble and make a fool of himself in front of this older man.

Shit.

He stayed silent in the end, and merely handed Berwald his things as Berwald smiled at him.

Ludwig considered himself quite the failure.

At least until the next day, and Berwald came through the door. Ludwig had been shocked, taken off guard, because it was Sunday and Berwald never came on Sunday. Their eyes met, as always, and Ludwig set about making the coffee as Berwald came up to the counter. Another note was set atop it, along with a little blue flower.

Ludwig took them, face burning, and felt his heart start hammering.

A phone number.

Obviously it was Berwald's, and Ludwig tried so hard not to smile like an idiot but utterly failed, and tucked the number and flower away in his breast pocket to show Berwald that he was very, very interested in calling him, thanks so much.

Er, texting rather.

Berwald seemed pleased, straightened up very tall and confidently, and carried on his way. Ludwig smiled stupidly all day, and Gilbert noticed when they were cleaning up.

"What's gotten into you?"

Ludwig shook his head, because Gilbert would highly disapprove of Berwald, if only for his age. Would avoid confrontation for as long as possible, and that very evening, as soon as he was alone in his room, Ludwig plopped stomach-down on his bed and began texting Berwald.

That wasn't pitiful or desperate, right?

Right.

Eh, didn't care, he really didn't, and hunkered down, feet swaying up in the air as he sent his greeting and therefore number to Berwald. He must not have been that pitiful, because his phone buzzed immediately.

His heart pounded and his excitement was high, as he began a conversation with someone he was interested in. From time to time, he glanced toward his door, perhaps guiltily, as if waiting for Gilbert to burst in and get onto his case. Felt like a little kid then, and certainly was lying like one.

Berwald was very quick to ask for a coffee date, and Ludwig was even quicker to accept.

Yes—!

Triumphant, Ludwig spent the rest of the night getting to know Berwald a little. Basic things, and answering Berwald's questions in turn, so that they would have general knowledge of each other before they met again face to face.

Berwald was twenty-eight, had been born in Sweden, worked for a literary company, and was not, indeed, married.

Not that Ludwig didn't already know that.

As it turned out, sneaking out four days later to go on that first date was actually really easy, because Gilbert and Francis were too busy playing video games to even really look up when Ludwig called, 'I'm going out. I'll be back later.'

Gilbert just cursed, and then answered, 'Yeah, sure.'

He felt terrified and elated and everything in between, and walked inside of the agreed upon café twenty minutes early. He wasn't desperate. He wasn't. Felt pretty pathetic, though, sitting at the table in the corner and waiting. A vulnerable feeling that he couldn't say he much liked.

But Berwald came, right on time to the very minute, and Ludwig lifted his head and tried to wave, but it came off as more of an awkward jerk, because Ludwig was terrible in every social interaction that he attempted. Berwald smiled regardless, and was quick to sit down before him.

...and now what?

Ludwig had never been on a date. Ever. That may have been very painfully obvious, because Berwald snorted a bit and was the one to go up to the counter and order them coffee.

Ludwig took note of Berwald's neater than normal appearance, his cleaned glasses and pressed shirt. His eyes fell then to the board held in Berwald's hand. Curious. Berwald had a rather professional looking little whiteboard, the size of a book, and it was very clearly well-used. Ludwig had never seen such a thing and found it as fascinating as anything else, more so the eraser, attached to the top and sliding down, which allowed Berwald to erase the entire board with one motion and no mess.

Ludwig may have just been easily amused.

Berwald saw Ludwig's nervousness and helplessness, and began writing. Ludwig shifted, squirmed, and took the board when Berwald passed it to him. He was momentarily distracted by how pretty Berwald's writing was. The best handwriting he had ever seen, but then that was probably because Berwald, unlike most people nowadays, actually still had to write things out by hand.

He turned his eyes to the words.

'My very first date was with a guy who took me to a karaoke bar. Halfway through he stood up and tried to get me to go onstage with him before he remembered. He was so embarrassed he never contacted me again. So don't be nervous. It can't get worse than that.'

Ludwig, despite his anxiety, started laughing.

It was horrifically embarrassing, and Ludwig cackled for a good minute before he handed the board back to Berwald, wiped his eyes, and said, breathlessly, "That makes me feel so much better."

It actually really did, and Berwald's smile was wide enough then to show his teeth, and it was quite nice to see.

After that, the date went very well, as far as Ludwig was concerned. Somehow, Ludwig very much enjoyed watching Berwald writing his responses, that feeling of anticipation as he waited. Rewarding, in some odd way, to be given a response in such a manner.

Ludwig smiled the entire two hours they sat there in the café, and Berwald looked calm. Tranquil. Leaning back in his chair and shoulders low, Berwald looked very at ease and very content, and that gave Ludwig far more confidence than he could have ever had otherwise.

His smile grew wider when he read the board when the sun had set.

'Is a second date on the books by chance?'

"Absolutely," Ludwig very quickly (not pathetically) replied, sitting up and eyes wide and looking foolish no doubt, elated and excited.

A second date! Incredible. The first had been enough of a miracle. Getting a second seemed rather beautifully apocalyptic.

More small talk, and then the farewell. Berwald made a motion to stand and Ludwig, so painfully awkward, bolted upright so quickly to join him that he slammed his hip into the table and nearly knocked it over. The chair tottered, and Ludwig nearly fell on his face as he snatched out to keep it from falling, tripping and staggering. Pulled himself straight up eventually, still alive if barely, and felt humiliated. Goddammit—his face was throbbing red, and when Berwald came forward and lifted his arms slightly at his sides in what could have very well been intent to hug him goodbye, Ludwig fumbled and stuck out his hand, stupidly. Berwald eyed it, brow high and smile crooked, but saved Ludwig from death by embarrassment by engaging in a very ridiculous handshake.

Ludwig's eyes were straight ahead and staring dumbly into Berwald's chest, far too mortified to make eye contact.

Had blown that one so hard.

For his part, Berwald seemed highly amused, humored Ludwig's pitiful writhing, and after the godawful handshake ended Berwald just snorted and clapped Ludwig on the shoulder and walked away. Ludwig lingered, waiting until Berwald was well enough away before he darted out of the café and walked home with his head down and face still red.

Had never been so embarrassed.

Well—! Embarrassed or not, he still had his second date, and the very next evening Berwald texted him and asked if he wanted to go for a walk out near the lake. Maybe Berwald thought being outdoors would be safer for Ludwig to prevent him from knocking over tables and chairs or slamming into doors and walls.

Ludwig agreed.

The lake date was better than the café date by far, if only because Ludwig felt more comfortable outside and was a little less awkward. It was nice, to walk along the trails and paths in the cool spring air, to see the trees flowering and the flowers blooming. They sat on a bench overlooking the lake after a good while of silent walking, and rested in the shade.

After a while of chatting and scribbling, Berwald lifted up his arm and put it on the back of the bench. Ludwig held his breath and waited, face very red for the hundredth time that week, but Berwald didn't lower his arm.

Not that time.

He did that on the third date, when they went back to that same bench. Ludwig jumped a little in surprise, stiffened up in uncertainty, and then found the courage to scoot over just enough to press his side into Berwald's. Wasn't brave enough that time to rest his head against Berwald's shoulder.

That he did on the fourth date.

That evening, when they parted ways, Berwald leaned down and kissed his cheek.

Ludwig was very up in the clouds these days, and found himself texting Berwald every chance he had, phone always glued to his face and always in his hand.

His favorite part of work now was, naturally, when Berwald came in on his usual schedule, because now when Ludwig gave Berwald his change Berwald always gripped his hand, for just a moment.

It was certainly the most important thing in Ludwig's life at present.

Gilbert was rather annoyed with him, because he no longer sat with Gilbert and Francis and chatted and played with them. Gilbert was suspicious, no doubt, but Ludwig was hardly bothered.

Ludwig was so focused and intent on texting Berwald that he rounded the corner one morning and ran straight into Gilbert, their foreheads slamming rather unpleasantly. Gilbert fussed at him, as usual, and watched him suspiciously for the rest of the day. Ludwig knew that Gilbert was letting his mind wander, but so be it! Ludwig was absolutely laser-focused on Berwald, and let nothing shake him.

The lake had become their routine now, because they both liked it quite a bit.

Berwald seemed right at home there, on the edge of that calm lake. Certainly an ideal match.

Ludwig watched Berwald watching the lake, and felt content. Peace and serenity was very easy to feel around Berwald, because Berwald's silence was so calming. The world was so hectic, always whirring and always moving, too fast sometimes for Ludwig to keep up with, and then Berwald just came along, ambling so slowly and carelessly, utterly unbothered by anything around him. Languid and calm, purposeful. Berwald never rushed, despite the spinning world around him, and Ludwig envied that. Berwald never fretted it seemed, never really stressed or panicked. Very still waters.

That day, Berwald invited Ludwig over to his home for the first time. He had been terrified and so excited, and when Berwald had held open his flat door, Ludwig had stood there dumbly for a moment, shifting and shuffling, and Berwald was forced to shove Ludwig through the frame.

Damn, damn, damn, why was he so awkward, damn—

After that fumble, Ludwig tried to play it off by looking around and walking as he spoke about how nice Berwald's flat was, and then promptly made a sharp 180 and smacked his forehead into a wall. He stumbled back, entirely mortified, but something rather curious happened then.

Berwald laughed.

The first time Ludwig had seen it, and it was the most fascinating and somehow adorable thing Ludwig had ever seen, so much so in fact that he forgot his embarrassment to gawk at Berwald instead.

There was no sound, naturally, but it was clear that Berwald was laughing, eyes squinted and shoulders shaking and chest reverberating, and at one point he snorted.

Ludwig rubbed his forehead absently as Berwald silently wheezed, and considered that awful embarrassment quite worth it.

How cute.

...even if Berwald was laughing at him.

He relaxed after that, found his feet, and didn't run into anything else for the rest of the evening. Berwald smiled the entire night, in such a wonderful mood, and nothing particularly audacious at all happened in that instance except that Berwald kissed him goodnight when he left. Ludwig, in another awkward fit, fumbled that, too, because Berwald leaned in to kiss his cheek and Ludwig twisted the wrong damn way and ended up pressing their lips together instead. Another awful round of mortification, but that one at least led to something else good when Berwald just ran with it as always and kissed him for real.

Excellent.

Another hurdle down, although Ludwig hadn't been clearing these hurdles so much as plowing straight into them and then tripping over them and abashedly hobbling along.

Same end goal, and his arms around Berwald's neck was a nice sensation.

After that, Berwald's flat was their new date spot, although by then it wasn't really dating anymore so much as merely hanging out together, because it was clear that they were in a relationship although neither one of them had come out and said it.

Gilbert by then was very aware that Ludwig was seeing someone, and had given him hell for it on many different occasions, demanding to meet Berwald. Ludwig, so far, had managed to get out of it every single time, one way or another, often with the aid of Francis.

A little less than a month after their first date, Ludwig found himself underneath Berwald on the bed, and that was one of the more frightening moments of his life, if only for his own anxiety and nervousness. The world didn't end, though, and Ludwig was pretty sure he didn't make a fool of himself, if Berwald's mellow smile afterwards was any indication.

Months passed in this fashion, and with each of them Ludwig spent more and more time at Berwald's and less and less time at home. Gilbert's annoyance increased, as did Ludwig's infatuation with Berwald. Francis was the most supportive person in Ludwig's life, and was who Ludwig always ran to with questions about this and that.

Had felt so dumb though, when he had sat down before Francis and asked, 'Do you think it bothers him that I want to come over every day? Am I being clingy? Am I getting on his nerves, d'ya think?'

Francis had snorted, shook his head, and simply asked, 'Does he smile when you're there?'

Ludwig nodded.

Francis' response had been succinct and simple.

'Then it doesn't bother him.'

Confidence.

Francis, the lover extraordinaire, would know after all, and Ludwig was bolstered.

Gilbert just glowered at Ludwig, and grumbled under his breath.

Ludwig spent the majority of his time these days over at Berwald's flat, spent most nights there, and yet somehow it still shocked him one night when Berwald kissed his cheek, scribbled away, and asked Ludwig quite boldly to just move in with him.

Naturally, Ludwig had immediately said yes, because he had long since accepted that he was, indeed, very pathetic for Berwald.

He was elated, and Gilbert was furious. It had been eight months, and Gilbert still hadn't met Berwald face to face thanks to Ludwig's stubbornness, but there was no longer any getting around it because Gilbert put his foot down and told Ludwig, very aggressively, that Ludwig wasn't going anywhere until Gilbert had met this mystery man.

No choice, because Gilbert wasn't asking.

It was certainly the most stressful day in Ludwig's entire existence, pacing back and forth and panicking and fretting and rambling as he tried to prepare Berwald to handle Gilbert when Gilbert was a loose damn cannon.

Berwald just smiled the entire while, and was masterfully unbothered. Had zero concern, absolutely no anxiety at all, and couldn't have been less worried about meeting Gilbert if he had actually tried.

Which worked in Ludwig's favor, because Berwald was huge and intimidating and gruff looking, absolutely an imposing man despite his sweet nature. Gilbert took one look at Berwald, opened his mouth, lost his voice, looked Berwald up and down, and apparently decided that sometimes it was wise to pick and choose your battles. Gilbert was a damn big guy, but no one would have ever exactly sought a brawl with Berwald.

So Gilbert had just crossed his arms and asked, "What are your intentions with my little brother? Hm? Don't lie to me, 'cause we know they ain't exactly holy."

Ludwig buried his face in his palm, Berwald looked flabbergasted, and Francis rolled his eyes.

Whatever Berwald scribbled to Gilbert then was a mystery, because he was too humiliated to look up.

Finding out that Berwald couldn't speak didn't exactly diffuse Gilbert in any way, nor should it have, he supposed. Gilbert glared at Berwald mistrustfully, scrutinizing him and analyzing, and seemed annoyed more than anything.

In the end, Gilbert didn't shake Berwald's hand, looked very disapproving, but finally griped to Ludwig, "Yeah, alright. Whatever. But I'm always watching you." When Berwald had wandered out of earshot, Gilbert added in a hiss, "You got weird taste. He's too old for you. I don't like it."

Disheartened but determined, Ludwig had just replied, quietly, "You don't have to like it, Gilbert. I like it. That's all that matters. I don't mess with any of your girlfriends. How old are some of them, anyway?"

A tint of pink on Gilbert's cheeks.

"That's different. You're the kid, not me. I gotta look out for you."

Ludwig understood, and that was why he let it go and just let Gilbert chastise him the entire few days he packed up his things and very steadily moved in with Berwald.

Couldn't believe it! His first relationship, and here he was now moving in. What an absolute success.

To be fair, it wasn't really any different, given how frequently Ludwig had already been staying here, but there was nothing quite like saying that he lived with the man he loved.

It was wonderful.

Ludwig went to work before Berwald did, but Berwald came back home later. Ludwig would wake up very early, kiss sleeping Berwald's forehead, make breakfast, and leave some ready for Berwald for whenever he awoke. In turn, every night before Berwald came into the bedroom for sleep, he wrote a long note out on the whiteboard on the kitchen wall for Ludwig to read in the morning. Sometimes it was plans for their day, other times reminders of things they needed to do, and sometimes it was just a little love letter.

Those were Ludwig's favorite, needless to say.

Sometimes, there were flowers waiting for him on the table when he got home.

There was nothing in Ludwig's life that made him happier than waking up before dawn, holding a mug of coffee in his hand, and reading Berwald's pretty letters on the whiteboard while wearing one of Berwald's oversized sweaters.

Comfort.

Time with Berwald flew very quickly, because Berwald made Ludwig happy.

Suddenly, Ludwig looked up and realized they had been together for an entire year. Almost didn't realize it at all, however, because it had gone by so fast, until Ludwig glanced up from mopping the kitchen floor that evening to see Berwald striding inside holding a large bouquet of flowers.

A rush of adoration.

How Ludwig loved this man.

He made sure to let Berwald know it, too, and hung over him for the rest of the day, coddling him and pampering him and expressing his gratitude in a far more physical manner once night came.

Time kept on flying from there.

They had fallen into a very comfortable routine, and finally, nearly two years after they had been together, Gilbert called Ludwig and said, 'Hey, Lutz. Come over for dinner tomorrow night. Bring your man.'

Ludwig smiled so widely it hurt his face, and he had very happily agreed.

Acceptance from Gilbert, at long last. Support had been great, but acceptance was better. Maybe Gilbert just missed Ludwig and was ready to have him around more, even if that meant suffering Berwald.

Dinner, however, was a little awkward.

Berwald stared extremely furiously, and Ludwig wasn't certain if he was entirely aware of it, but Gilbert stared back at Berwald, or tried to, and squirmed a little. Berwald could certainly come off as intimidating, absolutely, and Gilbert was no doubt feeling that. Berwald stared so hard that someone could have easily been set ablaze. As if Berwald were literally dissecting his visual victim with his eyes. Swore that sometimes Berwald would go minutes without blinking.

But then Francis said, "Well! Berwald, I can see why Ludwig likes you. After spending a lifetime with Gilbert never shutting the hell up, this silence is actually really nice."

Ludwig and Gilbert snapped their heads over and stared at Francis in horror.

Berwald, however, very quickly dissolved into that silent laugh Ludwig adored, Francis beamed, and everything was so much easier from there as Gilbert relaxed and started yammering, as if on cue.

A very long night, but a great one, and the first thing Berwald wrote to him when they got back home was, 'Are you sure you two are related?'

Ludwig snorted, and said, "Sometimes I wonder."

Gilbert was no stranger after that, swinging by the apartment frequently and often inviting them over, and Ludwig felt as if his life were on the track he wanted it to be. Loved the way his life was now, and wanted nothing to change.

For the following three years, nothing at all did, except that Gilbert let Berwald have his daily coffee for free.

Then spring came yet again, and they had been together for six years.

That year their anniversary fell on a Saturday, Gilbert had let Ludwig take the day off, and Berwald didn't surprise Ludwig with flowers. Rather, he took Ludwig's hand, and walked him outside. Berwald led him out to the lake and took him along their favorite spring path, the one lined with flowering trees. The trail was coated with pink and white petals, drifting yet from the trees like snow when the wind blew. The sky was bright blue, cloudless. The air was cool. A pleasant day.

Ludwig leaned into Berwald's side as they walked, and when they had reached a quiet stretch, no other people in sight, just the trees and flowers, Berwald fell to a halt, turned to Ludwig, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a letter, and handed it to Ludwig.

Ludwig assumed it was one of Berwald's little love letters that he liked to write, just on paper this time instead of on the whiteboard.

He was right.

A rather short letter, and Berwald stood patiently still as Ludwig quickly read it.

Although in some way I know it's been six years, I feel as if we've only met for the first time just yesterday. I'm still in awe, I believe, and no matter how many times I open the front door, I'm always so mystified and excited to see you there. Having you there with me is a joy I can never hope to express nor to ever truly be able to repay you for. At times, I do still have fears that you'll get bored with me and move on, and I know there's nothing I could do to stop that, and so I can only enjoy my time with you day by day. Please know that I wish above all else that I could just speak to you, to tell you everything that comes to mind, but I can't, and I'm sorry for that. You don't know how many times I've stood before the mirror in the bathroom and tried to form words. I can't. I had hoped that loving you so much would somehow make me able to speak, but unsurprisingly it hasn't. I'm sorry. But know all the same that even if I don't always express it, I love you, more than anything. I'll be here, always, whenever you need me. Even if some day we stand across from each other rather than beside, I'll always be there if ever you needed me. Happy anniversary. I hope I can claim many more. Thank you for loving me.

Shit.

Ludwig's eyes stung, and he crinkled his brow and blinked quickly, clenching his jaw for composure. Wasn't gonna stand here and cry in front of Berwald, no way. Damn, though, he had come close, and he folded the letter back up, tucked it in his jacket pocket, and steadied himself.

Hated hearing Berwald apologize for anything, and opened his mouth with the intention of saying, 'Don't ever apologize for that again.' Didn't say a thing in the end, because when he opened his mouth, nothing at all came out. Had a million things to say, and couldn't get a single one of them to come out; ha, he imagined that was what Berwald felt.

At Ludwig's foundering, Berwald snorted, and led him along. Ludwig followed him blindly, still trying to pull himself together, and before he knew it he was suddenly sitting in his own café.

A very odd sensation, having an anniversary date in Francis' bakery.

Funny, though, seeing Gilbert working the register. Gilbert must have thought it was kinda funny, too, seeing them there, because he brought over their coffees and sneered at Ludwig as he did so, leaning down to whisper, "I'm better at this than you. Everyone loves me."

"Bullshit," Ludwig hissed back. "How many of my customers have you lost?"

Gilbert straightened up, clapped Ludwig's shoulder, and said, "Only six, man. Relax. I got this."

Ludwig rolled his eyes, and Gilbert went back to his spot, staring relentlessly at them. Perhaps Ludwig should have been more suspicious, should have been put on guard by that, but was far too distracted by Berwald.

They chatted, as Ludwig sipped at his coffee, and Ludwig's mind whirred away about how he could possibly top Berwald's letter. He'd always fallen short on the anniversary gift side of things, could never outshine Berwald, no matter how hard he tried.

He was very lost in his plotting, and when he came to the last few sips of his coffee, by then lukewarm, he put them back mindlessly, and very nearly choked when something hard hit his tongue. He tried not to spit the coffee on the table, and somewhat succeeded except for what came out of his nose. He raised up his hand, spit the mystery object into his palm, and was very ready to raise hell for whatever gross prank Gilbert had pulled on him, but his wrath stopped very short when he realized that Berwald was doing that silent, wheezing laugh, and Gilbert was cackling.

He looked down dumbly into his hand, and was shocked.

...was that a ring?

Oh, god—

He must have been pale as a sheet then, as he stared over at Berwald in horror, as Berwald helplessly wheezed, and then he turned to gawk at Gilbert, who was laughing himself to death behind the counter.

Ludwig, stupefied and astounded, stared down at the little silver ring in his palm and tried to figure out what was happening.

Had to be some sort of misunderstanding. He was getting so far ahead of himself. They had just played a prank on him was all, and that kinda hurt, actually. Getting his hopes up like that. Gilbert had slipped it into his coffee to see his reaction, no doubt, and it didn't matter if Berwald was in on it or not because it hurt just as badly either way.

His face fell, his cheeks burned red, and he was upset then because he desperately wanted this to be real and that Gilbert had been thoughtless enough to ever think this was a good idea was callous at best. He sent Gilbert his best look of utter reproach, trying hard then to save face and not cry, stood up abruptly and nearly knocked over the chair, and stalked for the door. He left the ring behind on the table.

Didn't make it very far before Berwald was on him, grabbing his arm and dragging him back.

He didn't want to look at either one of them in that instant, so offended, and tried to break free. Berwald was too powerful to escape, and before long Ludwig had been wrangled and his face shoved into Berwald's chest. Gilbert had come running over as well, no doubt alarmed at the look Ludwig had sent him, and although Ludwig squirmed hard he was unable to break free.

Because Berwald was busy holding him in place, Gilbert was the one to say, in a low whisper, "Hey, man, come on. Don't be upset, I wasn't laughing at you—"

"This isn't funny," Ludwig muttered, still pressed up against Berwald and still unsuccessfully attempting to writhe out of his grasp. "What made you think this was a good idea? That wasn't funny! I'm sick of your stupid jokes."

A short silence, and then Gilbert whispered, in confusion, "What? It wasn't a joke. It wasn't my idea, man."

Ludwig froze up again, stunned, and dumbly looked up at Berwald.

If they were getting one over on him he swore to god he would never talk to either of them again.

Berwald was smiling, as if Ludwig's bewilderment was amusing to him, and Ludwig asked, for absolute clarification, "This isn't a joke? If you lie to me, I'll murder the both of you."

Berwald shook his head, and Gilbert scoffed, grumbling, "You jerk. I'm an asshole but Jesus Christ, I wouldn't fuckin' do that, goddamn. Is that what you really think of me?"

Ludwig was immobile, dumb and silent, and Berwald dragged him back over to the table, picked the ring up, and apparently decided that assuming Ludwig's answer was good enough for him, because he just forced the ring on Ludwig's finger and seemed happy enough.

This was real. Holy shit.

Ludwig looked back and forth between Berwald and the ring, as Gilbert testily stomped back behind the counter and muttered to himself. Ludwig's decision had been made for him, from the very determined look on Berwald's face, and Ludwig was perfectly alright with that.

He came to his senses shortly afterwards and very literally leapt on Berwald, arms around Berwald's neck and his legs around Berwald's waist, clinging to him like some horrendous spider, and Gilbert was suddenly laughing again. Berwald held him up in a rather impressive show of strength, and tried to breathe as Ludwig nearly strangled him.

That was Ludwig's best day.

The indescribable comfort of Berwald's arms wrapped around him.

However many years passed and whatever things they did and saw, for Ludwig, that was always his happiest memory, funnily enough; nearly choking on his engagement ring.

Berwald's laugh.

Odd, how silence could be so profound and at times so beautiful.