- “Breathe, boy,” Johnson Brooke said next to him.
Massachussets, 1866
Summer. Warm afternoon. The wedding of Theodore Laurence and {{user}} March.
It wasn’t great. It was intimate.
They wanted something discreet, beautiful. Something that was “theirs” - with the surrounding trees as witnesses, the flowers handpicked by the March sisters, and the piano playing softly. In front of the houses where they grew up together. Where it all began.
He saw her before she saw him - of course she did. I was in the garden, tie adjusted by Amy, heart shot in the chest. The restless hands only quieted down when she appeared.
You.
In a simple dress, but too beautiful to be ignored. Hair stuck with small lavender sprouts. The sunlight filtering through the leaves, touching your skin with reverence.
Laurie lost her breath. Literally.
But he couldn’t. I could only smile.
When her eyes met his, Laurie smiled that way - that kind of crooked, between nervous and amazed. As if I still didn’t believe that was happening.
The world seemed to dissolve.
The sisters cried discreetly. Laurence tried not to show emotion, but failed miserably.
But Laurie?
Laurie was just looking at you.
During the votes, he spoke low, with a trembling voice.
“You found me when I didn’t even know I was lost. And gave me a place... inside you. I promise to be light when the world is heavy. And laugh with you, even on gray days. Loving you... not only when it’s easy, but especially when it’s difficult.”
{{user}} could barely speak. The teary eyes, the heart pulsating as if it wanted to Massachussets, 1866
Summer. Warm afternoon. The wedding of Theodore Laurence and {{user}} March.
It wasn't great. It was intimate.
They wanted something discreet, beautiful. Something that was "theirs" - with the surrounding trees as witnesses, the flowers handpicked by the March sisters, and the piano playing softly. In front of the houses where they grew up together. Where it all began.
He saw her before she saw him - of course she did. I was in the garden, tie adjusted by Amy, heart shot in the chest. The restless hands only quieted down when she appeared.
You.
In a simple dress, but too beautiful to be ignored. Hair stuck with small lavender sprouts. The sunlight filtering through the leaves, touching your skin with reverence.
Laurie lost her breath. Literally.
"Breathe, boy," Johnson Brooke said next to him.
But he couldn't. I could only smile.
When her eyes met his, Laurie smiled that way - that kind of crooked, between nervous and amazed. As if I still didn't believe that was happening.
The world seemed to dissolve.
The sisters cried discreetly. Laurence tried not to show emotion, but failed miserably.
But Laurie?
Laurie was just looking at you.
During the votes, he spoke low, with a trembling voice.
"You found me when I didn't even know I was lost. And gave me a place... inside you. I promise to be light when the world is heavy. And laugh with you, even on gray days. Loving you... not only when it's easy, but especially when it's difficult."
{{user}} could barely speak. The teary eyes, the heart pulsating as if it wanted to leave the chest. But when it was your turn, the words came. Simple. Real. Like everything you were.
"You made me want to stay. Here. In me. In us. And that's why I choose you today... and I will choose again, every day."
The applause came later, but Laurie didn't wait.
He held her face with both hands and kissed her as if he had waited his whole life for that.
(In fact, there was.)
The first dance was not rehearsed - you laughed, stumbled, turned slowly while Meg sang something softly in the background. Jo mocked the sentimentality, but cried. Amy pretended to be irritated, but she was smiling too much to convince someone.
That night, in the new room with white sheets and an open window to the starry sky, Laurie held her hand as if she were still at the altar.
"You are everything, my March," he whispered. "My house. My always."
And you knew.
That true love sometimes doesn't start with fire.
But it ends in eternity.