NOTES: Lizzy's POV, pretty normal length— I added in as much fluff/sweetness as possible while adhering to my plan (yes I have a plan) to make up for being a slacker.

I have many excuses, but I'd honestly rather just say that telling stories can be difficult, and the more difficult thing is to realize that the only cure for writer's block is writing.

So, without further ado, here the next chapter! Thank you guys for sticking with me :)
~Vinny 🌼

Lizzy wanted to stay mad at him. She really did! But William had been so… I don't know… youthful? Innocent. His dark marsh-green eyes had shone with such an innocent light, that all Lizzy could see was the scared little boy she had loved all those years ago.

She glanced at him secretly as they walked. He didn't look much like a boy anymore.

He still that young glow to his skin, which was devoid of wrinkles, but his jaw was sharper now. More defined as it cut across his chin, leading to a pale expanse of neck, where (barely out of reach of his stiff white collar) the Adam's apple surged close beneath the skin.

Lizzy was taken with the sudden— rather terrifying— impulse to lift her mouth to his smooth skin and nip at his throat.

She quickly looked away, her face going completely red.

Unfortunately, William took that moment to attend to what was going on. "Miss Elizabeth?" He said, his tongue very obviously having difficulty saying the proper name, "Are you alright?"

She chirped a laugh that she knew sounded fake. "No, no! I'm fine!"

"Really? Because you seem… Er.. overheated."

For pity's sake— Lizzy kept her eyes resolutely on the road ahead of her, not daring to meet William's gaze. "I'm fine," she repeated. "Nothing to worry about."

Beside her, William's feet shuffled against the soft earth, crackling with leaves that had escaped the night's rain. "If you do.. feel… faint," he said, after a second, "I could help you walk."

Lizzy made the mistake of glancing at him at that, and saw him extending his arm again with a hopeful smile. A glimmer of frustration flitted across her psyche.

She had already declined his offer to walk arm-in-arm, and for a very good reason! William was a stranger in town— no one knew anything about him. All that was known was that he was rich, single, haughty (supposedly), and had publicly embraced her at the Meryton Assembly. So… if they acted in indecorously in any way, Lizzy was sure the people of Meryton were to label her a 'woman of the night' and ruin her family beyond repair.

Touching any man's skin wasn't worth that.

Besides, they were— it would be easier if they were just friends. Acquaintances! After all, William lived all the way in Derbyshire, and was only visiting his friend for a short time.. and her father would never allow the match. Money was nothing to integrity, he said. But.. William had that..! She thought he did, anyway. He used to.

Then she realized he was still waiting for an answer. Lizzy waved her hand, embarrassed. "Oh, no," she tried to smile, "I'm really alright."

William tucked his arm back into his side with the look of a dejected puppy that had just been told it couldn't eat the tablecloth. Lizzy wondered why her not taking his arm weighed so heavily on him. Surely, he could not expect that they were…

Oh.

A memory flashed through Lizzy's mind: a warm night, the skitter of insects under leaves, cold metal bars. She remembered crying as she said goodbye. William had been crying too— she could see it clearly— the tears sticking to his cheeks and catching the faded moonlight.

Had she…? Oh lord, she had kissed him. Kissed him! And said she loved him, on top of it all. Oh, dear lord.

Well, she had been TEN! Ten years old! Caught up in the moment and clinging to her one companion in that fear-gripped night... William surely didn't… he couldn't think…

"LIZZY!" Her sister's petulant voice called from ahead, interrupting her shock, "Does Mama expect us home for lunch? Or can we dine at Mrs. Long's today?"

Lizzy shook herself off, blinking multiple times before answering. "Um, I'm sorry Mary, but.. have we been invited?"

Mary frowned deeper, and dug her heel further into the drying dirt of the road. "Noo..," she whined, swinging her fists back and forth. "But she said we're always welcome..!"

That was... true. Mrs. Long was a good friend (some of the time, on and off) with their mother, and her little house at the far edge of Meryton was comfortable and sunny, and always brimming with food and drink. And Lizzy was feeling a little overheated— no, not in THAT way— and she could use a nice glass of lemonade.

On the other hand, Mary was being stubbornly childish. And if there was one thing that Lizzy abhorred, it was when a person she cared about rescinded their good qualities. Mary had gotten used to wearing mourning clothes for little to no reason, and the frown lines were already writing themselves into her once-chipper face. Lizzy was a little uncomfortable with encouraging such gloomy behavior.

Then she glanced at William, who kept stepping so close to her as they walked that their shoulders brushed. He was obviously aware of it, and pretended not to notice.

Lizzy exhaled sharply. "You know what?" She turned back to Mary with a smile. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. Let's visit Mrs. Long."

That earned her a rare (and brief) smile from her little sister, before she faced forward and giddily increased her stride to the point where they would have to shout to communicate, completely defeating the purpose of a chaperone.

William's eyes trailed Mary up the path, then focused on Lizzy's face with an unexpectedly intense look. "So," he said, his face expressionless, "What do you remember?"

Lizzy gawked at him for just half a millisecond, then assumed a look of clam ignorance. He was not a mind reader. He was NOT a mind reader. "Whatever do you mean, Mr. Darcy?" She asked, stalling for time.

"Well," William swallowed, "Do you.. recall our late night talks? The oak tree, or the library…. or.. the night you chose to run?"

"I.. I remember some things," she said, hesitantly grinning at him. "Like the apple slices the maids would prepare in the afternoon. Or.. the way your hair used to get tangled, or.. stand up on end when you worried with it."

He blushed, and was about to unconsciously run a hand through his curls when he stopped himself, and chuckled. "Guess I still do that."

"And..," Lizzy was thinking hard now, a smile taking hold of her face, "The sunbeams painted the walls, if my door was open. I was right down the hall from you… I remember crawling on my stomach to your room, and waiting for you to open the door. And you would…"

She abruptly halted. Lizzy had been about to detail some very private, very improper information. Namely, how he drooled in his sleep, and how they would fall asleep half on top of each other on the rug that was softer than silk. She would listen to him breathe, and stave off sleep by occasionally squeezing William's hand. He would always squeeze back.

Now William— a man now, who was growing into his father's face— was looking at her. Lizzy coughed into her hand.

"Well," she half smiled. "I remember parts of it."

His eyes never strayed from her as he spoke. "I hope—," William started, cut himself off, started again, "I hope you will.. have the opportunity to see Pemberely again."

William smiled, and Lizzy felt as though her muscles were getting gooey inside her. "I promise," he said softly, "That we'll have slices of apple every day.. if you wish, and.. and you'll never again have to crawl to my room."

Uh oh. Ohhh, no no no. Was th— Did that count as a proposal? He proposed after one— not EVEN ONE DAY?!

Lizzy realized when was supposed to react, and hurriedly smiled with all her teeth. By the way William's head snapped backward, she guessed it wasn't the right reaction.

"OH, would you look at that we're already here!" Lizzy cried, never before so thankful to see the dusty streets of Meryton.

Mary was waiting for them, arms crossed at the edge of the sidewalk under a small tree. Lizzy started to rush to her, desperate to escape the conversation, when a hand brushed her arm and immediately drew back.

She turned, and saw William standing, his hand hanging poised and indecisive in the air. He had a grimace on his face. "Miss Elizabeth," he said, and the name sounded wrong in his mouth, which didn't open again.

"What is it?" Lizzy asked him, praying he could see the plain distress on her face.

Without taking his marsh green eyes off her, William shook his head. "Nothing," he said. "I.. forgot."

She stopped herself from sighing in relief, and instead shyly smiled at the man who she was starting to realize she did not know. "Alright," Lizzy replied, trying to make her voice sound genuine and cheerful. "We'll.. we can just walk for a while then. No talking necessary for a good time."

William nodded, not talking at all.

They began again down the road, with dust swirling up from clomping hooves and carriage wheels, where the sun had no memory of rain, and beat down on the sidewalk like it had been that way all along. Meryton was busy this afternoon, and a mild crowd began to flow either way on the side of the road.

As the trio (Mary moving closer to them now) stopped in an alcove to allow a group of elderly women to pass, Lizzy quietly— without any show of it— slipped her arm into William's. For safety, of course.

She didn't look at his face to gage her companion's reaction, but from beside him she felt his whole body stiffen, then relax.

When she next glanced at him, his eyes were smiling. The sight couldn't help but lift her mood, even if the rest of her feelings were deeply tangled in knots that ran all the way through her body, and caused her to tremble (just slightly) in the fading summer's sun.