The year was 1868, and a haze of tobacco smoke hung gently in the loft, a testament to Theodore Lawrence's indolence. He, or Laurie, as he was more commonly known, was stretched languidly upon the sofa, a picture of idle repose. A half-smoked cigarette lay discarded beside him, its ember having long since surrendered its glow. Nearby, Jo March, oblivious to his existence, sat hunched over her desk, her quill scratching furiously across the paper. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she seemed utterly deaf to the world around her.
Laurie, his boredom rapidly swelling, called out.
"Jo?"
There was no response. He tried again, louder this time.
"Jo! Are you quite deaf?"
Still, she wrote on, her thoughts seemingly miles away, lost in the world she was creating. Frustration began to simmer within Laurie. He reached down, his fingers closing around a crumpled piece of discarded paper. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he called her name once more and, with a flick of his wrist, sent the paper hurtling towards her. It struck her squarely on the head, causing her to spin around, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and annoyance.
"Laurie Lawrence! What in heaven's name do you want?" she demanded, her voice sharp.
"I'm bored," he announced with a theatrical sigh.
Jo rolled her eyes.
"Well, go downstairs and bother someone else then."
Laurie pouted.
"But bothering you is far more entertaining."
"Try to bother me further, and you'll get what's coming to you," she warned, returning to her writing, though a slight smile played on her lips.
He was quiet for a moment, seemingly pondering her words. But the silence didn't last long. Soon, another paper missile was launched, this one falling short of its mark. He tried again, and missed again. The third attempt, however, found its target, striking her on the back of her head.
This time, Jo's patience gave way. She stood swiftly, her movements filled with a playful resentment, and approached him with a predatory gleam in her eyes. Laurie, who had reveled in her annoyance only moments before, now felt a flicker of apprehension. He wasn't sure what she would do, but he knew that he had gone too far.
Jo sat beside him on the sofa, her body close, her eyes locked with his. Laurie's heart pounded in his chest. A strange hope, a wild flutter of anticipation, filled him as she leaned in closer. He closed his eyes, imagining the sweetness of her lips...
But then, instead of lips, he felt fingers digging mercilessly into his sides. He erupted into a fit of laughter, a high-pitched bark that filled the loft. He squealed and writhed, desperate to escape her ticklish assault, but to no avail.
"P-please... stop!" he managed to gasp between peals of laughter, his face flushed.
Jo continued to torment him, her fingers dancing across his ribs, teasing him with relentless abandon. Their laughter mingled together, filling the space, a symphony of mirth and playful torture. Only once he was utterly spent, unable to articulate his pleas for mercy, did she relent, a victorious smile gracing her lips.
Laurie lay panting on the sofa, his body aching from the laughter. Jo stood and dusted off her skirt, her eyes sparkling.
"Do not disturb me again, or you will face the same fate," she warned with a smirk, and turned back to her writing.
The warning settled Laurie for a time. However, not long passed before an idea formed in his head. He approached Jo, his footsteps silent, and announced.
"I have an idea."
"I am not interested," she said, not looking up from her work.
Laurie paid her no heed. With a sudden move, he squeezed her sides, and she shrieked, collapsing to the floor in a fit of laughter just as he had. He knelt beside her, seeking sweet revenge. To his great delight, he discovered that Jo was even more ticklish than he was. Each spot he found, he explored with wicked glee, lecturing her with every prod about her rudeness, but his words were soon drowned out by Jo's shrieking laughter. Finally, when she could take no more, she begged him to stop, and he did but not before he held her close.
Their eyes met, and in the silent language that passed between them, Laurie asked her if he could kiss her. Jo's only response was a warm smile of agreement. The kiss that followed was tender and soft, a kiss that spoke of a bond as yet unspoken. Soon, both burst into laughter, their faces flushed with the shared intimacy. As Laurie leaned in to kiss her again, they heard the doorknob turn. They sprang apart, but didn't have the time to get up before Mrs. March stood in the doorway, her brow furrowed with mild confusion.
"What on earth are you two doing on the floor?" she asked, her voice laced with gentle concern.
A beat of silence hung in the air, broken finally by Laurie's hasty explanation.
"I... I fell. Yes, I fell."
Jo stared at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and amusement.
"Yes, so have I" she quickly agreed, her eyes dancing with suppressed laughter.
Mrs. March looked at them, her expression of confusion slowly changing into one of amusement, before she finally nodded.
"Well, come along now, supper is ready." She turned to leave, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips.
Once Mrs. March was out of earshot, Laurie and Jo erupted into relieved giggles. Laurie was the first to recover and extend a hand to Jo. She accepted his help, and a blush crept onto her cheeks as he gently intertwined his fingers with hers. He kissed her cheek, a gesture that sent a shiver of delight through her.
"Come, supper time," he whispered, pulling her towards the stairs.
They descended, hand in hand, but quickly released each other as they entered the kitchen, taking their usual places at the supper table. As the March family and Laurie discussed the day's events, Laurie and Jo couldn't help but steal glances at each other, a secret language passing between them. The glances, however, were not so secret, as each member of the family sent their own furtive glances to each other, aware of the first steps that Laurie and Jo had taken. The supper was lighthearted and filled with chatter, a happy end to a day of laughter and discovery, a day that changed the trajectory of their young lives.