It's early evening, the time of night when the sun has just barely disappeared under the horizon, leaving the sky in a mix of purplish-blue hues. A welcoming summer breeze works its way across the landscape, doing its part to cool after the intense heat from the harsh afternoon sun. It is a peaceful time, indeed.
It is during this time that Elizaveta now stands out on her balcony, gazing out at the shadow-drenched land below her. The eloquent white dress she wears subtly flows around her in the wind, and her hair swirls around her shoulders- fallen from an elaborate bun. The girl's hand is at her collar, tightly clasped around a small, golden locket.
Here she stands waiting with anticipation. The excitement of earlier may have ended after everyone had departed, but a small element of it remains within her. Elizaveta has been here before- both an unpleasant reminder, and yet a feeling of hope. Perhaps, she wonders, this time will work. Perhaps.
The longer she waits, the more a feeling of impatience and uncertainty gnaws away inside her. Where is he? She inquires to no one in particular. A familiar sensation of abandonment weans its way through her, but she pushes it away. He will come, give it time.
One of the tall French doors behind her opens, flooding the floor of the balcony in a warm yellow glow. A male casually strides out, careful not to startle her. Long since has the stiff jacket he had worn been removed and the white shirt below it exposed. A few of the buttons around his neck lay undone as he approaches the waiting girl, running his hand through his short silver hair.
Elizaveta freezes upon hearing his footsteps. She smiles secretly to herself- a guilty happiness sort of grin. He's here now, that's all that matters. Still, she remains in fixation at the earth far underneath her, her existing anticipation almost ready to burst.
Strong arms come round her shoulders, and the male's face nuzzles into her hair. "My Liza," he croons gently to her, "Did you miss me?"
Moving her hands to grasp his, Elizaveta draws the pair closer together. "Maybe," she responds playfully, "You did keep me waiting an awfully long time, Gilbert."
"Of course I did," he chuckles, giving her hand a small squeeze. "I only hope that the lady will forgive me, or her gentleman will be terribly upset."
Turning her head towards the side, Elizaveta delicately graces his cheek with her lips in a meaningful manner. Her cheeks warm a mellow pink that colors them. "Consider the gentleman forgiven," she adds with a lighthearted tone.
"Oh?" Gilbert asks, his manner faintly mischievous. "Well, then I hope she doesn't mind when I do this." Carefully, he spins her around so they now face each other. With little hesitation, he extends his arms, holding her face in his palms and kisses her tenderly.
Caught off guard by his sudden action, Elizaveta's eyes widen as Gilbert affectionately presses his lips against hers. She drapes her arms around the male's neck, losing herself in their embrace.
He pulls back, color crawling over his cheekbones. His warm hands travel down her face and neck, until they rest leisurely at her waist. Eizaveta's arms remain looped loosely around his neck as she stares up at him innocently with her large, emerald eyes.
"I hope that makes up for keeping you waiting, my liebling," Gilbert murmurs to her, lovingly, holding her gaze. He too, tremors with eagerness, still holding on to the excitement from today. It's a feeling of expectation; one he has been waiting far too long for.
Elizaveta smiles, moving one of her delicate hands to brush the side of his face, "It's quite alright, Gilbert. As long as you're here, that's all that matters to me now."
Her few words are enough to make his heart melt. Gilbert removes one of his hands from her waist, and grasps hers, holding it tightly. In truth, he's been yearning for that simple sentence longer than she'll ever know. He attempts to fight back the extreme surge of emotion within, to maintain his calm façade.
Holding her hand, Gilbert's fingers brush over something cool, and metallic, a ring. It's nothing fancy, simply a golden band with a sole, tiny diamond stone set in the middle. Gilbert gently raises her hand, a small wave of satisfaction flooding through him. He's only dreamt of the day- the day he would gently place that small bauble on her finger.
Bringing it to his lips, Gilbert softly kisses her hand. "That's all I ever wanted to hear, Liza," he whispers to her, hand still in his grasp. "Thank you..."
Elizaveta can only blush, her eyes welling up with tears. A sensation of remorse builds within her, bringing back memories of all those years before. She remembers his face the day she joined in union with the one he detested most. Those days he seemed distant through the course of her relationship, and the ones he spent comforting her after the separation. How could she have not seen it then?
Bad reminiscences turn to better ones as she recalls her most recent birthday. With a red rose in one hand, and a small box in the other, he confessed. The golden locket that ornaments her neck was his present to her, and Elizaveta would admit to wearing it almost every day.
Gilbert's hand continues to stroke the glimmering, golden band round her finger- a matching one on his own. He pulls them closer together, holding her in a firm, yet soft grip, as if he might lose her. "I'll love you forever, always have, always will, my dear Liza," he breathes into her ear. "Don't ever forget that."
"I won't," she answers back faintly. Elizaveta welcomes his hold, enjoying the lack of space between them. She rests her head dreamily on his chest, and listens to the rhythmic sound of his heartbeat.
"Good", Gilbert responds, grinning. He braces one hand against the small of her back, and allows the other to tuck underneath her legs, swooping the girl up in a not so unfamiliar fashion.
Taken by surprise, Elizaveta throws her arms around the male's neck, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Gilbert laughs, and assures her, "Don't worry, I won't ever let you fall, love."
Nodding, Elizaveta relaxes her tense grip as Gilbert twirls them both around. He carries her towards the source of the radiant light within the doorway leading to the terrace. With a sense of pride and accomplishment, he gazes back down at Elizaveta, beaming.
"Now then, Miss Elizaveta Beilschmidt, I do believe it is our wedding night."
This is a rather short story I did some time ago. I got into the Prussia x Hungary pairing after some roleplay I did with another friend. I haven't wrote, "fluff", before so this would be my first shot at that. I appreciate any reviews, and thank you. c: