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If Amy was a beauty when she was sick, Laurie can’t even begin to fathom how to classify her when she’s healthy. Her eyes are an even brighter emerald than they were before, and when she starts wearing her daily dresses again… Laurie almost melts in his love for her.
It’s not just her beauty that increases, though. It still startles him to see Amy come tumbling down the stairs, showing none of the same meekness and fragility she once displayed, instead, an energy he has yet to get used to.
As Meg’s wedding approaches, Amy is preoccupied with preparations most days, leaving little time to spend with Laurie, excepting the small hugs, brushes of fingers, or chaste pecks in passing. Which is why Laurie is (reasonably, in his opinion) surprised, when, on the morning of the wedding, Amy shows up on his doorstep with a thick slice of cake, plated on it’s side, and an impatient tapping of her foot.
“Amy, he-” Amy cuts him off, peering around his shoulder.
“Yes, yes, may I come in and set this down? I promised Marmee I would bring it.” She huffs a breath, and her eyes wander restlessly. He opens the door wider, allowing the small blonde to step through.
“Of course, grandfather is out on an errand, but should be back in an hou-” Amy cuts him off, pressing a desperate, long kiss to Laurie’s lips. She pulls away after a few moments, and stares at him with wide eyes, setting her plate down on the coffee table.
“I hope you don’t find me brash, but, my Lord, Laurie! It feels like we haven’t been together in ages! Don’t you feel the same?” Her voice is slightly breathless, and the dark-haired boy is completely and utterly taken by the bright flush on her cheeks and neck, and instead of responding, he bends down, wrapping an arm around her waist, and levels their lips. Amy is eager, throwing her arms around his shoulders, and exhales into his mouth.
“I do feel the same, Amy, possibly even more.” Laurie responds, barely pulling his lips away, and guides the blonde down onto the chaise lounge beside him. Amy startles, her eyes snapping open as she catches herself on the smooth, green fabric.
“Is this alright, my lord?” She murmurs, eyes dropping to stare at Laurie’s swollen lips, moving in front of him slightly, and Laurie tugsd her into his lap.
It’s been a few months since Amy healed completely, but Laurie’s hands are still delicate, placed on her waist, or cupping her cheek when they kiss, despite the passion he feels in their embraces.
“Yes, my lady,” He replies breathlessly, and ushers her mouth back to his own, moaning quietly when she relaxes her full weight into his lap. Amy’s delicate hands slide down his shoulders, ghosting down his chest, and back up. His hips buck against her’s, and her lips fall open against his.
“ Oh, Laurie, we should stop,” Her baby blue dress rides up around her apricot-flushed thighs, and he smooths his fingers around one.
Instead of a response, Laurie moves his mouth down Amy’s jaw, into the smooth slope of her neck, and the blonde cries out when he sucks down on her exposed collarbone.
“Amy, you’re so good,” Laurie gasps, and Amy’s heart pounds in her ears. She tips her neck back, eyes rolling in her head as her hips stutter on Laurie’s own. He pulls a few pins in her hair, and it tumbles golden yellow down around her shoulders. A helpless moan tears from her throat, and Laurie realizes, while she’s rocking shamelessly in his lap, that this girl is truly even more wicked than he thought.
Amy drags a warm palm through Laurie’s hair, and it’s his turn to tip his head back as she swirls her tongue against his sharp jawline, and he’s gasping at the sensation when a key turns in the lock of the parlor. It’s almost comical how quickly Amy jumps away from his arms, smoothing her hair back, and her dress from where it’s crumpled around her thighs. Laurie pulls a heavy book over his lap just in time for his grandfather to open the door.
“Well, here’s a slice of Marmee’s famous scotch shortcake, I hope you'll enjoy it! I’ll just be on my way now.” Amy recites nervously, and scurries towards the heavy wooden doors of the Laurence household.
“Oh, hello, Mr. Laurence, I was just stopping by to bring Laurie a slice of Marmee’s cake before the wedding. I can bring some over for you too, if you’d like?” Her blush darkens, and she avoids eye contact with the older man.
“No, that will be alright, Ms. March. I’ll see you later today, at the wedding, I presume?” He raises an eyebrow at the girl’s skittish antics, and Amy can barely manage a nod before slipping out of the doorway. Laurie just smiles dazedly after her, and his grandfather shakes his head at the two.
“Cake, is that right, Theodore?” He asks, and Laurie breaks his gaze after the youngest March.
“Oh, uh, yes, Grandfather. It’s delicious.” He smirks slightly, and rises off of the lounge. He makes his way to his bedroom in order to choose a suit for the wedding. One that will complement Amy’s blue, he thinks.
“And Laurie?” Laurie turns towards the older man.
“Yes?”
“It would do you well to fix your hair before the wedding.” With a knowing look, his grandfather leaves for the library.
Amy’s still flushed down to her chest when she arrives back at the March household, and is immediately bombarded with questions about the wedding.
“Amy, what color will go better with my hair? Pink or blue?” Beth.
“Blue.” She automatically replies.
“Amy, will you rip this thread from my collar? It’s tickling my neck.” Jo. Amy swings around to face Jo, and the older girl eyes her suspiciously.
“Where have you been? Meg’s been looking for you, she needs help with her hair, and Beth and I are hopeless.”
“Oh, just visiting Laurie. And his grandfather, of course!” Amy twists Jo to face the other way, reaching down into the collar of the girl’s shirt to grasp the offending thread.
“Both of them, really?” Jo looks back at the blonde once having buttoned her collar again. Amy nods quickly, head bobbing like a puppet, and she curses herself for her inability to lie.
“Well, that’s impossible, I’ve just seen his grandfather’s carriage roll in not a moment ago. Must have been a quick visit?” Jo grins devilishly, and Amy hushes her.
“Must you always insinuate? Yes, the both of them, and yes, it was quite a short visit! Now, how do I look?” Amy brushes her hair away from her shoulder, and Jo snickers.
“Positively ravished . Or- pardon me, ravishing . Must have been a slip of the tongue.” The taller girl’s sibilant teases only increase Amy’s embarrassment, and she heaves a heavy sigh, giving up her pretense.
“Is it-” she lowers her voice. “Is it really that bad?” Jo grins wickedly.
“Depends. What happened?” Jo’s never been one for petty gossip, but she can’t ignore the chance to make little Amy itch- even as old as they are now.
“Nothing. Ah- nothing. What do you think happened?” Amy diverts her eyes, and pulls Jo by the arm away from the living room.
“Well… to me, it looks like-” Jo spins around, and makes hideous smacking noises, reaching around to feel up and down her own back.
“Jo! Where have you even learned-” Amy is cut off by her own laughter, clutching her stomach as the slightly nervous peals rack through her, bubbling up from her throat.
Jo turns back towards her, blue eyes bright with mirth. “Was I close?” She whispers, thin lips pulling to the side in a grin.
“Well- not exactly, but- alright, yes, that’s exactly what happened.” When Amy sombers, Jo bursts into snickers, which calls the attention of Meg from the kitchen.
“What are you two laughing about over here? Amy, I’ve been searching everywhere for you, help me with my hair?” Jo and Amy silence themselves quickly, and the blonde clears her throat.
“Oh, I was just visiting the Laurence's. Come, Meg, would you like your hair up or down?” The blonde links her arm through the brunette’s, and they breeze upstairs, talking quietly and excitedly.
The sun is gentle and happy as Laurie and his grandfather make their way over to the March residence, and they can spot the blooming flowers weaved across the fence from the valley of the hill. A delightful tune carries across the furnished yard, and they set their gifts down on a brightly clothed-table.
A few people meander over to greet them, but Laurie’s eyes flit anxiously over the decor, searching aimlessly for the golden blonde head.
“Hello, Theodore.” An old woman wearing a deep purple dress and overcoat murmurs, glancing over his suit in judgement. He blanks for a moment, before smiling graciously.
“Hello, Aunt March! How are you today?” He looks away from her momentarily in order to scan the crowd.
“Looking for someone?” She taps a finger against her arm, and Laurie shakes his head.
“Well, the girls are just getting ready, I’m sure they’ll be out soon. I suggest you take your seat, Theodore.” Her voice is cold, but she eyes him knowingly. He looks towards the rows of seating set up, and opens his mouth.
“You and your grandfather will be sitting up near the front, with the family. Go along, boy.” Laurie smiles gratefully, and collects his grandfather to make their way towards the chairs.
It’s only when the bridal march starts playing that Amy slides into a seat next to him, and he looks down at the small blonde to find her gazing back at him with shining emerald eyes. They stand, almost in a blur, as Meg begins to walk down the isle, and Amy pulls her eyes way to stare tearfully at her sister, and Laurie admires the way her golden hair twists softly into braids, flowers interwoven in the strands.
“Doesn’t she look beautiful?” Amy murmurs, and Laurie presses a lovely, warm kiss to her cheek.
“Yes, she does.” His voice is close to her ear, and she beams at him, wrapping a gentle arm around his waist. They sit back down, and he slides his hand into her own, lacing them like a pair of shoes. He finally turns his eyes to the front, and admires the white lace of Meg’s dress. He drifts into a daydream, of Amy’s apricot skin filling out a crisp white gown, her blonde hair done up the way she likes it, a braided crown atop her head. He ponders over the music, the food, only the best and most tasteful for his Amy, his wicked, charming, cunning Amy.
She runs a thumb over the back of his hand, and his mind pulls back to the present.
“What are you thinking of, love?” She traces her middle finger down the palm of his hand, and he swallows roughly, afraid that his proposal will burst from his throat before he even buys a ring.
A ring! His eyes blow wide as he remembers. It has to be beautiful, obviously, he thinks, but- how will he afford it? His grandfather, no doubt, would be in support of the marriage, his love for Amy is almost as great as Laurie’s own. But, for some odd reason, the thought of using his grandfather’s money to buy a wedding ring for Amy seems, well, shallow.
“Laurie?” Amy questions once more, and Laurie blinks.
“I was thinking, my love, how breathtaking you look in this dress. Is it new?” Amy blushes, and shakes her head.
“Marmee purchased this a while ago, during my illness, to cheer me up. I haven’t worn it before, though.” Laurie’s heart drops, as it always does when discussing Amy’s illness, knowing that he was the cause of her pain, her suffering. But Amy always assures him in these periods of sadness, with a peck on the lips and a caress of his hair, that he was the one to heal her, not to ail her.
“You look magnificent, my lady.” Her eyes gleam at him, and when her father announces that John may kiss the bride, Laurie leans down as well.
“You and Laurie,” Beth questions one night, as Amy nestles her socked feet under the wool blankets in her bedroom.
“What about Laurie and I?” Amy looks up from her sketchbook, the candlelight flickering warmly from the nightstand between their beds. She admires the ever-pleasant, lovely pink blush on her sister’s cheekbones, her gentle eyes and pale ginger hair. Beth’s lips are full, like hers, unlike Meg’s and Jo’s thin, dark ones. Amy flips a page and begins to sketch indiscernible features, starting with a pair of pale pink lips.
“Well, are you two- are you in love?” Beth stumbles over the question, her soft voice shy, even in the safety of their shared bedroom. Sometimes, Amy feels as if she’s Beth’s older sister, brushing the latter’s hair for her at night, looking caringly over the demure nature of Beth’s heart, protecting it sword and shield.
“Yes.” She replies, barely glancing up from where her hand has rebelled, sketching the rest of Beth’s face around the features she’s drawn. “There.” She holds the rough sketch up for Beth to see, and the ginger-haired girl smiles gleefully.
“That’s really good, Amy.” Amy grins softly down at the paper. “It’s alright,” She scoots forward on her bed, one socked foot balancing on the warm wood floor. “Here.” She holds out the paper, torn cleanly from her pad. “You can keep it. You look beautiful tonight.” Beth blushes at the complement, and holds it carefully between her fingertips.
“Thank you, Amy. And- and I’m happy for you and Laurie. He really loves you.” The blonde smiles warmly at the words, and reminds herself to thank God in her prayers that night for such lovely sisters.
“Goodnight, Beth, I love you.” Amy sets her pencil down on the nightstand, and blows out the candle.
“I love you too, Amy. Goodnight.”
Amy hasn’t seen Laurie in a few days, his excuse being that ‘his grandfather has put him to work’. She scoffs at this, knowing Laurie’s torpid tendencies, and despite her security in their- how to put it- relationship? She shakes her head, feeling a rising anxiety, like the vines that used to creep up her throat.
“Amy? Are you alright?” Jo’s voice startles her, and her throat closes. Suddenly, she can taste the flowers, the blood, she can feel the filmy petals in her teeth, the thorns twisting around her trachea. She falls to the floor, gasping, hands grasping weakly at the bodice of her dress.
“Amy!” Jo drops to the floor with her, her long, nimble fingers scrambling shakily to loosen the lacing of the ribbon, and she pulls the younger girl to her chest.
“It’s alright, dear. Breathe, Amy, breathe.” She rocks slightly, and Amy’s breath evens out, enough to choke out her anxieties.
“It’s- it’s Laurie. I think he’s hiding something from me.” Jo resists the urge to roll her eyes, because she’s never been keen on giving, or receiving relationship advice.
“He- I haven’t seen him in days, Jo, it’s like he’s avoiding me.” Jo’s heart falters, as Amy’s hot tears soak through her thin dress, and she narrows her eyes. She helps the younger girl to bed, despite the hallucinated state of her illness, she decides that Amy should rest regardless.
With a chaste kiss to her sister’s forehead and a fluff of her pillows, Jo sets off to find the offending Italian.
It’s really not that hard to find Laurie, seeing as that just when Jo arrives to the household, the Laurence carriage is pulling to a stop before the road. The dark-haired boy clambers out, a mess of rolled papers and parcels in his arms, barely noticing the tall girl over the pile.
“Theodore Laurence!” She calls, walking purposefully towards him, and he startles so quickly that a parcel nearly drops out of his arms. He wobbles comically in order to balance the stack.
“Goodness, Jo, you know how to frighten a man!” He exclaims, grinning at the ginger-haired girl.
“Well you know how to frighten a woman, then, too!” She declares, stepping towards him challengingly.
“How do you figure that? I’m not the one sneaking around, or using full names, in fact.” His grin falters at the cold look in her blue eyes.
“What is it, Jo?” He sets his load down on the porch, meeting her eyes genuinely.
“It’s the fact you’ve been avoiding Amy. Why?” She crosses her arms across her chest. Laurie furrows his eyebrows.
“I haven’t!” He steps back, affronted. “Why would I avoid Amy?”
“Well, I don’t know, Laurie, but she’s awfully broken up about it. It frightened- it frightened me .” She shakes her head, and Laurie looks worriedly towards the March house, toward the frosted glass window.
“If you aren’t avoiding her, where have you been?” Jo questions.
“I truly have been working for my grandfather. I conduct mostly as a glorified errand-boy would, but, it’s money.” He shrugs, eyebrows still drawn in.
“Has your grandfather cut you off from the fortune? Can you not access any money you have the need for?”
“No, he hasn’t cut me off! I still have access to the money, but, well. Jo, can you keep a secret?” Jo’s eyes light up, and she leans in, intrigued.
“Of course, Teddy. What’s the secret?”
“Nothing bad! I just- I’m saving up for- something . And it’s something I would like to buy myself, with money I’ve made.” He breathes a sigh, shoulders relaxing a bit.
“What is this something that you’re saving up for?” Jo asks, and she searches his face shamelessly.
“Well- you cannot tell anyone of this,” Jo holds up her right hand, swearing silently. “I’m saving for a ring.” Laurie tenses.
“What type of ring, why do you need a- oh! Oh. A ring .” Her eyes blow wide, and she nods.
“Yes, a ring. Which is why I’m working so much. Because I need to buy Amy a fine ring, that will show her how much I love her. I will contest, though. As a man who hasn’t had to lift a pinkie in his life, I’m pretty good at running errands!” He jabs her arm with his elbow, laughing slightly, and Jo grins.
“That’s… surprisingly virtuous of you, Teddy. I’m surprised.” He grins, and Jo sees a light of infatuation shine through his eyes.
“Amy, she’s- I can’t explain it, we fit. I was always frustrated when my grandfather told me I would ‘ just know’ when I met the one, but, I’d have to give you the same advice now, I’ll admit! I’ve grown so much with her support, and every time I see her, it’s like waking up.” He scrubs a palm over his giddy smile, and Jo wrinkles her nose playfully.
“Teddy, enough with the sappy declarations. Save them for the proposal. But also- save your money. Amy won’t care about the size of the diamond- she will only care that it’s from you.” She starts walking the path towards Orchard House, but turns around once more to correct herself.
“Then again- don’t undershoot. Amy is still an exceptional young woman, and our father won’t stand for any jests. Also- Amy prefers silver to gold!” She calls down the way, and Laurie waves gratefully.
“Thank you Jo! I’ll be over later!” He cups his hands around his mouth, and she lifts a hand in acknowledgement.
Jo slips back inside Amy’s bedroom, where the blonde lays on her side, turned towards the window. She looks smaller than she has in a while, the wool blankets pulled loosely around her narrow shoulders. Jo suddenly gets the urge to do something she hasn’t done since youth, and she gives in, one final time.
She slips off her boots, and lifts the blankets off Amy’s small body. The blonde’s eyes flutter open when she feels the bed dip beside her, and she immediately curls into the comfort of Jo’s wiry frame.
“Laurie loves you, Amy. He loves you like the sea loves the shore, how the birds love the air. He couldn’t avoid you if he tried. You just wait, beloved.” The blonde’s cheek smushes against Jo’s collarbone, and she runs a nimble hand through braided golden locks, undoing them from their tight hold.
“Thank you, Jo.” Her voice is muffled against thin fabric, but Jo smiles, and closes her eyes, for a brief moment soaked in childhood.
Meg looks up from the oven, a light knocking on the door drawing her attention away from her bread. She brushes her hands over her apron, dusted with flour, and goes to answer.
She wonders who could be calling, it certainly wasn’t her day to receive visitors, and she’s both surprised and relieved to see her youngest sister on the other side of the door, looking expectantly at her.
“Oh, Amy! I’m so happy to see you! Goodness, I thought you were a caller, I was puzzled!” The brunette laughs, and Amy smiles, looking upon Meg’s loose hair and rumpled apron.
“Oh, I know how I look! I’ve been housekeeping, and baking, don’t give me that stare! Come in, come sit in the kitchen, I’ll fix you a tea!” Meg bustles through the doorway, and Amy shuts it meekly, following Meg to the modest kitchenette attached to the dining room.
“What brings you over, dear?” Meg fills the kettle with water and sets it over the stove. She turns away from it, then, sitting across from Amy at the kitchen table.
“Well, I’d like to inquire about something- um.” She breaks off, and looks down at her hands embarrassedly. Meg reaches across the table, lacing her fingers with Amy’s.
“You can ask about anything, darling, I’m your sister. I won’t run away.” She smiles, and Amy stares in awe at the motherly comfort in Meg’s eyes, almost identical to the way Marmee’s look.
“I was saying- I’d like to inquire about John and your relationship, well, before marriage.” The blonde looks shyly up at Meg, who grins knowingly.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, what would you call a- uh, a man you are serious with, before a proposal? In terms of the nature of your relationship?” Meg purses her lips, and hums.
“Well, I guess you would call him a suitor. Why?” Amy shakes her head, frustrated.
“Laurie is no suitor, he’s no ‘gentleman caller’! He’s- he’s more .” Amy furrows her eyebrows, and Meg stifles a laugh.
“Well- maybe this means a proposal is coming. Laurie doesn’t seem like he’s too eager to go anywhere anytime soon. He’s working an awful lot, too, John tells me. Maybe he’s saving up.” Meg shrugs, and the kettle begins to whistle behind her. She pulls a spoon out of a drawer to stir Amy’s tea, full of sugar as the blonde likes it.
“Thank you.” Amy barely looks up as she takes the mug, and Meg shakes her head mirthfully.
“Listen, Amy, if you’re ready to be married, I would bet Laurie is as well. I know you two love each other deeply, so don’t be too worried about labels at this stage. There will be a clear label soon enough.” Amy blushes deeply, and imagines Laurie uttering the words: my wife, as he wraps a strong arm around her waist. She warms instantly, and smiles gratefully at her older sister.
“Thank you Meg, I’m sorry for bursting in and causing all this fuss. I suppose you’re right.” Meg pulls her hair over her shoulder playfully.
“So, does this mean I should start sewing a wedding dress?” She smirks.
“Meg!” Amy puffs air through her cheeks, but smiles regardless.