Chapter Text
When people said that size didn’t matter, they were usually referring to other people’s height. For Amy, though, the size of a place didn’t matter when it had a high chance of danger being around the corner, or when it was raining.
Amy actually loved rain. For a few hours, especially at night. Both the sound and scent of the rain were pleasant, good to read a good book or to sleep to. Wonderful weather for something warm and sweet too, and for listening to her boyfriend playing the piano - not that she wouldn’t do it at any other available time, but there was something different during rainy days.
But after about a week of nearly nonstop rain, Amy’s mind was filled with dreadful scenarios - most of them irrational, she always realized later - and she felt caged and in the suspense of awaiting an unknown enemy to jump at her as soon as she lowered her guard.
By the third day, she had been banned from work, for a number of small incidents involving the other residents, because she was both distracted and jumpy enough to turn anything into a mess that created more work for Sebastian than helped him, so she had taken to spend nearly all hours of the day by Mozart’s side.
Was she bothering him? Amy thought so occasionally, but she could make up to him later. His presence was calming for the next two days, his music soothing during the next one but, by the end of the week, the rain had grown into a storm and Amy felt more like it was the end of the world. It looked like the rain would never stop; like the sky would open up in a black hole and destroy everything, or like the wind would form a giant tornado…
If she was calm, Amy would have laughed at how these ideas were fit for plots for an apocalypse story. But the unknown enemy is often scarier than the one people already expected. That was how she kept her calm down through a lot of situations, by being steps ahead of any potential harm to her or the surrounding people.
Some things were impossible to predict, though, especially nature. Weather prediction wasn’t one hundred percent accurate, even in her original time. And, for reasons she couldn’t remember, Amy had always feared an unknown supernatural twist to things.
Considering her boyfriend was a vampire, why wouldn’t other unknown powers exist out there, while most normal people thought them myths? Like a mage that could control the weather, for example.
Why would any creature, or whatever it may be, be interested in attacking her, though? But logic didn’t chase the feeling of dread away.
Speaking of making it rain, the sound of a familiar song reached her in the middle of her own storm. A song that reminded her of the old days, in another place, another time. This was what she missed most of home, these little fictional worlds. Books were great, but Amy loved the feeling of interactivity of a game. Not that she would have traded her new life for anything.
Why did that single song calm her? Not because it reminded her of home, for sure. Part because she could recognize her boyfriend’s touch in this new arrangement, because he clearly had made it for her, a source of good nostalgia with a touch of her new home. Part because this particular song felt like it could be the source of the storm and the calm at the eye of the hurricane. It made her feel safe while the rest of the world raged. Trapped, yes, but more into a protective shield than into the only hiding place from a fast approaching disaster.
Amy closed her eyes, humming along, absorbing the sounds, letting them take her mind and her. They felt warm, like her boyfriend’s embrace. She wasn’t deserving of such a gift after she ended up ignoring him to drown in her own nightmares.
She would make sure to thank and make it up to him later.
Mozart observed his girlfriend as she approached the window with tense movements and sighed. She’d been pacing around for about an hour by then.
It was their routine on rainy days to spend the day together, most of it in the music room. The first time he’d noticed her anxiety, that she usually hid so well, Mozart had made her get a break from work and she told him about her anxiety.
Amy had these anxious reactions to any space she felt trapped in, and although she loved a few hours of rain, if it went for too long she felt shut off from the world, like being stranded on an island.
As she grew up, she had managed to lesser actual panic attacks with a mix of small distractions and a fight response when these were interrupted. Fight instead of flight response, behaviors she could give other excuses for as a defensive mechanism.
With him, though, she was quick to admit to these and let them go, and Mozart felt out that his presence, or, if she was too anxious or when she was working but could hear it, his music, were enough of a distraction to soothe her.
After a few days, though, Amy grew more and more paranoid about an irrational and unidentified danger. Her reactions to surprise had turned somewhat aggressive. Not on purpose, as she would quickly catch herself and apologize, not before nearly attacking some of the other residents, which resulted in Sebastian suspending her from the house chores.
That was for the best. Mozart would rather have his girlfriend by his side in these situations, back to their little routine. He would play the piano and Amy would sit by his side, reading. She only left to grab something to eat, coming back with warm coffee and some chocolates.
When the rain turned into a storm, though, Amy had started panicking. It was the first time he’d seen her in that state, and Mozart wasn’t sure what to do.
His current solution was music. Something that would evoke the right feelings. Something special for her.
Although Mozart had something he was sure would work, he chose to try a theory he’d been working on.
Amy had that song she said to be from her time that she was always humming on rainy days and sometimes played on her violin. She adjusted the rhythm to suit the rain’s mood, but Mozart himself quite liked the calmer version that he found fitting for most weathers and environments, and he had been composing a personal arrangement of the song.
A song just for the two of them that reminded her of home pleasantly.
Not long after the song started, Amy visibly relaxed, and she started humming along. She didn’t move from her spot by the window, but that was already an improvement. Soon her voice joined the song, serene and melodious, but hesitant, like she didn’t quite remember the words of the song, but they were fitting for the atmosphere.
Only after the song ended was that she turned to face him with a soft smile and walked up to the piano, sitting by his side.
“Sorry,” Amy said almost immediately.
That was the last thing Mozart expected her to say.
“What for?”
“You were worried about me and I ignoring you. Sometimes I can be such an idiot.”
“Yes, you can.” Amy pouted, giving him an indignated look. “But not for this, even if you kept giving ridiculous reasons to be afraid. Fear isn’t always something rational, or something you always understand.”
There was little Mozart did fear himself, but, even before they started dating, Amy had always supported him through these moments, sometimes even hiding that she was afraid, herself.
“Thank you.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “The song was beautiful, too.”
“Beautiful enough to calm you, it seems.”
“Well, that wasn’t just the music. It was because it was you playing. Because you took the time you had to make your own music to create something that was only for me, instead. And you could do it because you had been paying attention to me, to minor things you didn’t need to.”
“Of course I pay attention to you. You seem to get in trouble whenever I don’t.”
This time, Amy only shook her head and laughed.
“I’m not that helpless, but at least I know if I ever do get into trouble, you’ll know.”
Yes, Amy was more careful and independent than he was giving her credit for, but sometimes she didn’t seem so.
“Maybe. But you are more like yourself when you seem like I need to watch you.”
Amy blushed when he caressed her cheek, giving her a small smile.
“Then play for me one more time, please.”
Mozart gave her a soft kiss before turning his attention back to the piano, giving in to her request.
The song hadn’t ended when Amy leaned into him and soon was snoring light, signs that she was really tired.
Mozart stopped playing, both because she wasn’t listening and because the position made it difficult, and observed her.
Amy looked so soft and innocent when she was asleep, almost like she wasn’t real, but a dream.
“Of course I’ll always look after you, Meine Liebe, even when we both think I don’t need to, because you are important to me. Before I met you, I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much. I didn’t even think I would love someone. Now you have become my light, my inspiration, my life, and you’ll always be.”
Even in her sleep, a smile formed on Amy’s lips as if she’d heard him, but her breathing, now even, told him she hadn’t woken.
Maybe he needed to say these things aloud more when she was awake, even if he knew she understood his feelings without the need for words, although she never asked him to. Maybe because she never asked of him more than she thought he was comfortable with.
Maybe when she woke up. For the moment, Mozart shifted his position carefully to pick his girlfriend up to put her somewhere more comfortable, and maybe where no one would walk in on them, because he couldn’t help but smile back whenever he looked at her.