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Gilbert was being his usual self, meticulously combing his hair, grooming his suit clean of every last bit of lint and wrinkle, and making sure his teeth were as clean and sparkling as a silver mirror. He took a deep breath before steadily exhaling, trying to calm the few nerves that seemed to always want to go off during these kinds of things. It was funny in a way; he had gotten so much more used to and confident with doing this, and yet he never seemed to be able to completely rid himself of his nervousness. Perhaps that was because he was used to formality in war or diplomacy, not just when wanting to spend time with her. He sighed as he told himself to stop fretting, steeling himself as he went to leave for his old car.
Some distance away, Erszébet had her own preparation routine. She had gotten out one of her nicer dresses, turning down the thought of wearing a suit given where they were going. She had also put on some makeup, something she didn't do often, though by no means from a lack of ability or skill. She looked over herself one last time in the mirror, brushing away the few stray and fraying hairs she had while double-checking to make sure she was spotless. Going out like this was not new to her, but when it was with him just to spend time like this, it was something she could never quite get used to either. But she knew she couldn't do her routine forever, turning on her heel to go towards her living room. She turned off all the lights except for the ones in the living room, waiting for him to pick her up and passing the time just by scrolling through her old CRT TV.
She didn't have to wait long; the old incandescent shine of the car's headlights was drawing shadows through her window. She went to the window, looking through her antique curtains as he stepped out and made his way to her door. She ran over to it, having just long enough to brush off any lint that got on her before a solid double knock could be heard. Erszébet opened up the door, taking a look at Gilbert patiently standing there.
He looked gorgeous in every sense of the word, as far as she was concerned. His usually chaotic white hair was done up nicely and neatly, with a silver-like sheen from the gel he had used. His attire was a clearly well-groomed suit, the deep shades of Prussian blue and black contrasting well with his pale blue undershirt and white hair. Its fit was undeniably perfectly tailored to him alone, fitting and emphasizing all the best things about his figure in a subtle but powerful way. It all came together to give him a strong but tempered aura, one of old traditions, discipline, and classical honor. With a soft smile and subtle blush, "You look good," she uttered as she turned to turn off the lights before they left.
He stood there to the side with a soft redness on his cheeks, a simple and soft, "Thanks, you too," being his only reply. He was rather looking at her, like a traveler coming from a dark valley meeting the radiant sunrise. Her long chestnut brown hair flowed like a gentle river, the slight curves and waves of it reminiscent of rolling hills. Her silk halter dress only highlighted it, being a vast emerald green sheet that covered her without hiding her. It has clearly been made well, hugging her form and making her appear both smoother and stronger, like a marble statue of old. It all made her seem as strong as a grand tree, yet with the kind touch of a mother, human might melded with natural serenity.
Erszébet swiftly got the lights for the room, heading out like a jolly breeze through the door as Gilbert closed it behind her. They sauntered over to the car, an old Trabant he wasn't able to ever bring himself to get rid of. She teased him as she entered the back of the old car: "I swear, Hell will freeze over before you get rid of this". Getting his seatbelt on, he joked back, "I better buy some ice tires then". It wasn't malicious or an insult in any way; they both knew that, just poking fun at their own sentimentality for the old. They both held onto things that could be called obsolete, vintage, or antique. Perhaps that's just what living for so long does to a person, wanting to hold onto things just a little longer before they forever go; or maybe they were just hoarders, she couldn't say.
The car trip was rather quiet but pleasant. Gilbert was focused on the road; as a rule lawyer, he was always sticking hard to the advice of staying focused on it. She teased him about it a few times, getting a warm laugh at his then-long-winded explanation of traffic rules. Despite the dryness of the subject, she couldn't help but listen and remember every word he said. His voice drew her in, as pleasant to her ears as the flute songs and tunes he loved to play with his flute. She couldn't help but think he could still swoon her with his voice, even if he read a dictionary.
On Gilbert's end, he just couldn't bring himself to be annoyed at her playful teasing. She always had a certain melodic tone in her voice, an inflection that eased his often worried-filled heart. It reminded him of the melodies of vast wild forests and the songs of untamed rivers of old—an ancient beauty that never did fade. And her soft laugh was truly something to behold. It was as if the beauty of the Earth itself could be heard—a laugh that held not the sins or pains of old but the goodness and love of all she was. To him, no amount of iron and gold, land and guns, titles and prestige could ever be worth trading her laugh for. He sometimes felt like a sappy old man for feeling like this, but he couldn't help it; he was a soft soul, a classical romanticist at heart, and she pulled him in and around her like the planets around the Sun.
Even in the gaps of silence and quiet, it felt different than just being alone or even just being with other strangers. Something about the mere presence of the other made the silence relaxing and almost sweet. Neither could ever hope to explain it, but they both knew the other felt similar. Erszébet didn't feel the need to check on him here, with him so close, looking at the passing street lights that zoomed by. There weren't many other cars on the road, making this drive feel almost private in a way. Gilbert, too, didn't need to fend off his insecurity of isolation and loneliness with her just behind him. Rather, he kept on the road, noting how the street lights seemed to merge into a dot of light far away.
Soon enough, though, they reached their destination, a rather nice and very formal restaurant. It was the kind of one with gas lights and velvet carpets, with a reservation and waiting list required to even enter.
Gilbert parked his car on the side, stepping out to get the door for Erszébet. She was perfectly fine with getting the door herself, but he always insisted on being the one to do it properly. So she waited for him, taking his hand as she stepped out to help herself up. Closing the door behind her, they began their move towards the entrance side by side with an elegant and careful stride. One could easily imagine them many lifetimes ago having done this in the grandest ballrooms of the Great Powers, surrounded by the leaders, heirs, and advisors of the Great States of Europe.
As they entered and Gilbert checked in his reservation, Erszébet couldn't help but take note of how almost pompous everything felt. Everything had been clearly made with great care, with fine masonry walls adorned with delicately made classical paintings. The floor was indeed a deep red velvet, so pristine it seemed not to have a drop of wine or strand of hair laid on it, and where there was no velvet, there was specially treated dark wood.
She was partially pulled from her thoughts by a very professional sounding, "This way, sir and madam," a well-dressed waitress showing them to their table. She followed behind her and Gilbert, only commenting to him, "You picked a really nice place out". Otherwise, it was a short and silent walk to the table, with only a small look around the restaurant. Reaching the table, they both went to sit across from one another.
The waitress then handed them both menus and said, "You will find we have a large selection of wines and meals; please let us know if you need anything," never breaking her professionalism as she did so before leaving to give them some time. Taking the menus, they began to look through them in mutual and focused silence, with Gilbert looking at the various wines to start while Erszébet went through the meals.
Gilbert broke the silence with a thinking face while still looking down at the drink list. "Champagne is a classic; would you want that?"
"Not bad, but anything else?" Erszébet replied back, looking up at him, "Something different could be fun."
"There's uhh," He said, drawing a blank from outrunning his mind, needing to check the menu to be sure, "Zierfandler?"
"Oh god no," She bluntly let out without much restraint, getting a snort from Gilbert at its bluntness, "I said something new, not something I had for two hundred years"
He chuckled, Okay, okay…," before going silent. He silently went back to reading it, partly aware of her staring at him with warm eyes as he did so. "How about Barolo?" He asked quickly as he came back up to look at her.
"Barolo?" She said as she went to the wine section of her own menu, looking at and reading its description. "Yeah," she said with a soft voice, looking up at him, "Barolo sounds good for today."
They smiled with gentle warmth at each other—a small but meaningful little thing for them.
Erszébet went back to the menu, this time looking over the section for main courses and appetizers, with Gilbert following suit.
"How about Haltepertő to start off?" She suggested, pointing the menu around to point at what she was referring to. He gave it a quick look before nodding with a small "Sure."
"And for my main course, I think I'll have the Gulyás," He added soon after, not bothering to look up from his menu as he said so. She couldn't help but roll her eyes with a chuckle. "You always get gulyás whenever we go out somewhere like this," she teased with a cheeky smirk.
"So what?" he said with a casual but obviously defiant shrug, "I'm a simple man who enjoys simple things," making no attempt to deny it. "What, are you jealous?" He added on with a cheeky grin of his own.
Erszébet faked a gasp before genuinely chuckling, "Jealous of what? That you love my culture?" she replied with a proud face.
"I was thinking more jealous that I get what you make a lot, but sure that works as well." He teased back with a sharp grin on the edge of his lips.
"Pff, if you're saying they do it better, you must really have lost it." She shot back, a tad annoyed at the thought but also enjoying the small teasing match they had started.
"I dunno," he said with a shrug and an exaggerated look of uncertainty on his face, "This is like 50 euros, while your stuff is like 10 euros top, so I mean, just by price, it has to be better."
"You know what? When we get home, I'll-" She huffed with a grin before being interrupted by a sudden sound—a throat clearing from right next to them.
A staff member was standing as if he had always been there, keeping a professional look in both his smooth black suit and cold face. Erszébet and Gilbert both felt like the temperature had just dropped a few degrees, feeling themselves freeze in place like Medusa had turned them to stone. "Sir and Madam, I must request that you kindly lower your voices," He coldly informed them, his face and voice as unchanging as his suit.
Apologies, sir," Gilbert replied with a demoralized, tempered voice, much lower and holding a carefully crafted structure from the long-gone days of the Empire. Even his expression was leveled, as if showing sorrow or excitement had become a crime. Erszébet nodded with her own demoralized face, adding to her own smothered and restrained voice a simple "Apologies as well."
The staff member seemed satisfied enough with their response, leaving the table as silently as he seemed to have appeared. Gilbert opened his mouth as if to speak before closing it, as if the words had left him through some back door, going to the menu as some retreat from the world. Erszébet was equally quiet, unsure of what to say herself as she silently played with the edge of a neatly folded napkin before she went to the menu herself. It felt like someone had just suffocated a birthing flame, leaving both bereft of warmth to draw from.
After what felt like an epoch but surely was only a few minutes, their waitress returned to their table. Her face was warm with a smile and seemingly oblivious to the smothering that had just occurred, and her voice was equally sweet in a fake way, "Have you decided on an appetizer or your drinks yet?"
"Yes, we'll take the Haltepertő," Erszébet replied with a careful and formal voice, a half-hearted smile on her face to not seem rude, "and we'll both have Barolo, please."
The waitress nodded while taking down the orders on a notepad, asking while still in the same friendly voice, "Have you decided on your meals yet as well, or do you wish for more time?"
"No, we have already decided on our meals," Gilbert responded with an almost blank face, his voice neither soft nor hard but somewhere in between, "I will have the Gulyás, and she will have the Halászlé."
The waitress finished writing down the orders with a small hum and informed them, "I will get the wine and appetizer as soon as I can," before turning on her heel and leaving.
"She's cute." Erszébet blurted out suddenly with a blank face, stunning Gilbert, who took a moment to process what she just said. A soft, warm blush appeared on Erszébet's cheeks, having just realized she said that out loud as Gilbert began to snicker.
"Wow Bözsi I didn't realize you were still a school girl!" Gilbert teased with a snicker and shit-eating grin, the tension in the air melting away like ice on a stovetop. Erszébet felt her own tension slip away, replaced by an amalgamation of indignation and embarrassment at what she had done. To say something like that in this place in that way was comical, and both she and him knew it.
"So what if I think she's cute?” Erszébet forced out in a hail mary to regain her honor and save her pride, "You think other girls and boys are cute as well!"
Gilbert shrugged with that self-assured grin still plastered on his face, "So enjoy the beautiful and cute; sue me." He looked so full of himself sitting there, having managed to agree without taking a chip of his pride with it.
"Then you have no room to criticize me!" She shot back like a falling lightning bolt, fully invested in yet another duel of pride she so frequently had with him.
Their so-called spat had no malice or ill intent; an outsider might mistake it for a genuine fight, but they could tell from their inflection, their voices, their eyes, and their bodies that it was nothing more than a continuation of playful schoolground teasing.
"The difference is I don't blurt it out," Gilbert teased back, leaning forward on his elbows with his hands holding his head, "and besides, you're the cutest one I've found."
Erszébet and Gilbert went silent as if someone had hit the mute button on their voices, both as still as artic ice for a few moments. Then a hint of redness appeared on Gilbert's pale cheeks, which started to grow and then explode into a massive, deep flush, looking as if someone had painted red watercolor onto a marble statue.
Erszébet herself flushed like a blooming flower of red across her face before she began to snicker softly. "That was cheesy as fuck, Gil." She giggled with a warm smile, her blush never leaving.
Gilbert became a bit more awkward as he began to rub the back of his hair, murmuring soft words of agreement and dismissal. He embarrassed himself now at how cheesy a line he said. He let out a cute and skewed chuckle as he began to regain himself, trying to brush aside how he flustered himself.
"Sir, miss, your Barolo and Haltepertő are here," The waitress announced as she walked over with a plate of the haltepertő in her left hand and the barolo in the other, "You're lucky that we had an extra plate of haltepertő on hand to get it to you so quickly."
Gilbert was silently thanking God for the waitress coming in, it was a perfect distraction and break to let him recompose himself without Erszébet being able to tease him further. "Thank you miss." He said as she put down the plate and some wine glasses, ignoring Erszébet's teasing smirk towards him as she poured them their glasses.
"You are welcome," she replied as she finished pouring before her warm, professional smile sank a bit, "Also I do not mean to be rude but I was told to ask you two to please lower your voices."
"Oh! I'm sorry, we did not mean to be rude." Erszébet quickly replied, lowering her voice halfway, realizing how loud she was being. Gilbert nodded in agreement with her. The waitress silently took their word, taking a small, relieved look on her face before leaving the two to attend to her other duties.
"You're too loud." Erszébet chastised Gilbert, half way between serious and playful, while keeping her own voice lowered. She went to grab some of the haltepertő for her plate while Gilbert rolled his eyes.
"Maybe, it's not my fault I have such a great voice." He replied with a warm smile, taking a drink of his wine.
"You do have a nice voice, I'll admit that," Erszébet replied, nibbling on her appetizer, "doesn't mean you don't get noisy."
Gilbert playfully huffed as if he were some aristocrat being insulted by a petty comment, earning a small laugh out of Erszébet. Gilbert let out a sigh and laughed to himself, unable to pretend to be annoyed when he was enjoying himself so much with her.
They chatted and joked with one another about nothing in particular other than what their whims decided to come up with. Though the invisible weight of formality was clearly weighing on them, they did all they could to not let it get to them. Instead, they focused on one another, enjoying their eyes, words, and voice as an astronaut would admire the beauty of the Earth.
Soon enough, the waitress returned with the two plates, handing them both their meals, and after some formalities, they went back to their conversation along with now gradually eating their meals. They didn't bother to pay much attention to the rest of the restaurant until Gilbert paused at hearing something.
"What is it?” Erszébet asked softly, putting her utensils to the side.
“Ave Maria, Op. 52 No. 6.” Gilbert mumbled out to no one in particular.
Erszébet was silent, listening to the music on play for a bit with him, “so it is, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s not too bad, a bit out of synch but not horrible” He said as he turned to look back at her warmly, twirling the butterknife in his finger like a baton.
“Are you saying you could do better?”
“Are you saying I can't?"
“I dunno," she shrugged, "It has been awhile since I've seen you play music."
"You know that's a lie," pointing the butter knife at her, "you're just lucky I don't have my flute on me, otherwise I'd blow them out of the water!"
Erszébet snickered. "Alright, well how about you sing with just your voice?"
"Aren't you the vocalist?"
"Well yeah, but I haven't heard you sing with your voice in awhile," leaning back in her chair, "unless you aren't able to."
Gilbert felt a knick at his pride.
"I have the best singing voice other than you and you know it!"
"Maybe, but until I hear you I can't know for sure, so tragic, Gilbert sings like a dying cat."
"Alright fine then," putting his utensils down and nearly knocking over a glass as he shoved it away, "watch me."
He gave his voice a brief clear with no regard for how unglamorous it sounded, taking in a deep breath afterwards to prepare. With a small exhale, he began to sing, a soft and gentle tune more reminiscent of music played for a child than of grand military parades or deep, passionate, and physical love.
But it was also by no means childish in quality, each note flowing into each other like a gentle river, every inflection high and low like rolling hills, it's very touch upon the ears and heart like a great warm blanket being placed on a soul suffering under the cold.
Erszébet listened to him with a warm smile, having let go of her utensils somewhere on the table with no regard for proper placement. Rather she was resting her head on them, just listening to music of voice even above the other tunes already playing.
After what felt like an eon but was surely only a few minutes at most, the music of Gilbert's voice stopped. She picked her head back up as he had an unapologetically proud and almost smug look on his face.
"That was really nice," taking a long drink of her wine.
"Almost better than you I'd say!"
Erszébet froze and choked at once, spitting a good deal of the wine out and spilling more on the table as she coughed and only barely avoided slamming the glass down on the table. Gilbert wasn't helping, just laughing at the ridiculous display while leaning back far farther in his chair than he had any right to.
"Oh my god Liz what was that?!"
"That was because of how crazy what you said was!" Shouting back while coughing with a flush, her pride wounded at how comical her reaction was.
"Am I wrong though?" A smug and provocative look was plastered on his face that only inflamed Erszébet's desire to get back at him, another one of their competitions igniting.
"You bet you are, just listen!"
Clearing her throat with a beat on her chest to help, she started to sing a mighty tune, with the power of her calvary of old yet grace of the greatest ballerinas that had ever lived. She gave Gilbert a quick but smug look, enjoying the soft blush on his cheeks as much as his look of realization she still had him beat.
However being him, he wouldn't accept defeat so easily. "Yeah right, I can do better!"
He began to sing as well, trying to do the same sonnet as Erszébet to one up her, but only actually achieving highlighting how much more experienced and fine tuned her voice was compared to him. Soon enough he realized this as well; but before thoughts of honorable surrender could come to him, another idea struck him.
He moved like lightning, and flicked one of the bits of food at her, scoring a hit straight on her cheek. She gasped softly at the hit and froze for a moment, turning face to Gilbert who acted like he had nothing to do with it. So she did what first came to mind, grabbing her spoon and flicking some of her gulyás back at him.
He froze like water touching freezing air, still like ice for a few long moments before turning back at her. Erszébet smiled wide and innocent like she was a good little child at church who had no connection to what had just happened.
So Gilbert took and flicked his own spoon at her with a hurrah, hitting her square in the face. His little celebration was short-lived though as she retaliated back, and so they began to flick their spoons and forks at each other to splash them with their meal's sauces. It was a messy and childish affair, yet they treated it akin to a grand duel of fairy tales and legends of old, or at the very least acted like they were between their innocent giggles and jeers.
And then like a star falling from the sky, a shout of anger only restrained by the need of keeping formality erupted, “Sir! Ma’am!”
They froze like children who had just been yelled at by their mother with their full names, turning to see who could have only been the manager. He stood tall as if his ancestor was a grizzly bear, a scowl that held nothing but dripping contempt for them, his tar black and clearly well groomed uniform seeming to be the only thing separating him from being wrath incarnate. They themselves felt like they were being crushed under a lead sheet, stiffening into awkward poses of formality at him in a vain attempt to not bring on even more fury upon them. Gilbert felt a cold sweat run over him, being reminded of his younger days of being yelled at by officers and threatened with punishment for breaking military protocol. Erszébet herself held in every twitch in her body, swallowing nothing yet feeling like a ball of cement and shrapnel was running through her.
“I ask of you both to leave this establishment immediately.” The manager stated with a voice of near malice that made it clear this was not a request but an order, his body as still as a mountain but his very presence as overwhelming and suffocating as a hurricane. A second or two of silence hung in the air, a suffocating quiet as they could feel the eyes of everyone drilling into them like worms descending upon carrion, while the air itself felt as stale and heavy and hostile as a cloud of ash and mustard gas.
Then Gilbert suddenly stood up in an instant, so fast it was a wonder he didn’t topple over, and still as stiff as a telephone pole. He did nothing but give a meek apology that was more in line with the whimper of a kicked puppy then the bombasity he was known for, and then like a wooden robot, turned and began to make his way out. Erszébet quickly did the same and followed him, trying and failing to ignore the whole restaurant looking at them as if they had just threatened to murder someone in broad daylight. She swore she could hear gossip of some kind beginning to swell under the silence, but couldn’t be bothered to focus on it as she felt the manager’s glare tearing into her back like a rabid hyena tearing into a carcass.
Gilbert pushed open the door for Erszébet as they both left, neither turning back in fear they’d be looking down the maw of the leviathan itself if they dared do so. They kept on walking to the car, only deviating from their robotic and neurotic walk with a jolt as the doors closed, sounding like the roar of artillery fire in the dead silence.
They both got into the car, this time Gilbert in the back and Erszébet up in the driver seat, and finally let themselves breath, the tension in them melting away like scrap metal thrown into an iron furnace. It was a depressing silence, dead noise as cold and stiff as a body in rigor mortis. Erszébet was lifeless and drained besides a shallow breathing as a sign of life, her face far off in her mind nothingness beyond shame. She was shaken out of it by a pathic noise, looking up in the mirror to see Gilbert had begun to cry despite a very clear and very futile effort not to. As much as he tried to hide it, he was a soft and fragile soul at core, and even now tried to hide himself from her eyes as soon as he noticed her look.
Reaching out a gentle hand to him, in the most delicate and gentle voice she could muster up, she tried to comfort him, “Gilbert, it’s alright.”
“No it’s not!” a harsh rebuke and pull away from her hand before he mellowed at the realization of his tone to her, “I ruined everything again…”
She shook her head and retracted her hand, taking her eyes off him and looking forward to give him space, “No you didn’t, it was my fault.”
“Stop blaming yourself for my mistakes.” a meek voice replied, and as she turned she could see him opposite of her looking out the window, no doubt hiding himself from her.
All Erszébet could do was sigh, knowing he needed some space and time to let his most wild and unstable emotions flow over him before she could really do anything. So she began the car in silence, only the awakening of the rumble of the engine letting Gilbert know the car had started. Then she pulled out of the spot, got on the road, and began to drive. She didn’t have any plan or place to drive to, she just wanted to get away from the restaurant, and do something besides sit in the car. So she aimlessly drove around in silence along the roads and occasional bridges, not a word being uttered from either of them as they both last track of time, hours becoming seconds and seconds becoming hours.
Gilbert was looking at the window, nominally watching the passing street lamps, though only in the sense the light of them bounced into his retina. In reality, he was in his own mind, thinking about how he again messed this up, how he always lost control of himself when with her. He loved her so much and wished he could just do more for her, be the Moon to her Sun, the Yin to her Yang, the other half of her harmony. But again he had failed her, had become an off beat without thought or care again. It was only as the car jolted to a sudden halt he was at least partly ripped from his world of anxieties and insecurities.
He took a moment to process what was going on, straightening himself up a bit with a turn towards Erszébet. Only she wasn’t there, like she had been just a figment of his imagination this whole time. Before he could fully process that as well however, the door beside him suddenly opened, and there was Erszébet looking at him with a smile of nothing but warmth and love. As he sat agape with his mind racing to try to figure out what this all meant, that all was put to sleep as she extended her hand to him once more, a silent, “Here, take it,” in her eyes. And he did so, tentatively taking her hand and then yelping as she pulled him towards her out of the car.
“Wha-” was all he could get out like a schoolboy before he felt a pressure around him, Erszébet around him in an embrace. After a single moment of stillness he did the only thing his heart could think of, and wrapped his arms around her back. They stood there for what felt like eons but what they knew was no longer than a minute before they separated.
“It wasn’t your fault, really.” She moved a hand up to his face, cupping it softly as she wiped away some of his tears, Gilbert unable to resist the desire to simply let her do this, damned be his pride for needing not to be taken care of. He let out a soft laugh, almost a whisper of a laugh, and let his armor fall away with a weak but genuine smile as his eyes feel upon her.
Of course, this is why he loved her. Not just for her eyes that gleamed like the most beautiful emeralds or hair that flowed like a river of brown velvet or body that would bring the jealousy of Athena and Aphrodite. Not just for her voice that rang with the beauty of Apollo or laugh that seemed the cure to all ills of the world or wit that was as sharp as Excallabier when it was first pulled from the stone. Not just for her loyalty to those she considered an ally or kindness that could comfort any scared child or will as unyielding as the Carpathian mountains themselves. It was above all else the fact he could trust her with his wounds both old and new, could trust her with the fragility and weakness of his very soul, could trust her to look upon his heart that yearned for flowers and birds over fire and bombs and not recoil in disgust.
He looked up and she followed, both gazing at the stars in the sky, able to still recall tales of heroes and legends that earned their place up there. Such a long time ago it was, and they were still so young then, wanting to play among the trees under the stars more than spill blood in the name of banners or talk with the most powerful people in the world for the fate of the world. And despite all he and she had changed from those children in the wild long ago, just as the stars were still beautiful, they still loved one another.
Erszébet looked back down at him, and both shared a moment between their eyes of a love as deep as the Mariana Trench. Unspoken with coordination, they began to lean forward, Erszébet closing her eyes as she focused on the feeling of her lips. But then nothing was felt, and opening her eyes she saw Gilbert gently grabbing her nose, looking in the depths of her eyes. Leaning forward all he muttered was, “You’re it,” before jumping away with a cheeky grin.
“Hey! No fair!” She objected as she lunged forward and missed him, slipping out of her heels as he walked around her.
“Not my fault you’re slow!” As he gave a mock salute and ran into the forest with a smug laugh.
She growled with indignation before a smirk replaced it, laughing as she took off after him, neither noticing nor caring about the sound of her dress getting caught and torn on some low branch.
“Just give up Gil! You know you can’t outrun me!”
"Ha! Maybe when my legs are broken!"
But she was catching up to him, Gilbert slowed more by the bobbing and weaving between the trees and greenery than Erszébet.
He had to keep himself from looking back at her as she moved to not run into a tree like a moron. Even still with his glances back he could see her gracefully bouncing off wnd through the woods, like this was just a ballie on a stage for her. Between her elegance and his need to not crash he didn't register the tears in his suit had gotten from motion and dead wood, nor how ruined his nice shoes were in dirt and scratches.
Then Gilbert made a mistake and tripped on some wonky bit of tree root, spinning like a top in the air before careening back to the ground. Only through centuries of skill and a big wallop of luck was he able to catch himself with a janky and awkward landing rather than outright crashing into the soil. Instead he spun around, grabbing the tree for support while steading himself and catching a breath.
Respite however was not in tune with the life of a nation, and so he looked up once he stilled to see Erszébet. And in particular, she was in the air about to tackle him like she was trying to impress Alfred and the NFL. Gilbert had only a moment to brave before impact before she hit him and they both went flying back into a small clearing.
Holding each other as they tumbled through the grass, they rolled out into the center under the full glory of the night sky. And once they stopped, Erszébet found herself above Gilbert and merely triumphantly decalded, "You're it."
Gilbert laughed and gently pushed her off, "Alright alright, you win this time," lying on his back while catching his breath once more. She rolled over next to him, silently grabbing his hand as they just laid in the grass together. It was textured rough and calloused, having seen ages of war, but it was also gentle, a hand that prefered the noise of a flute to a rifle and the feel of flowers to rounds.
"I haven't had this much fun in awhile." Erszébet spoke between breaths, turning over to look at Gilbert.
He looked back at her with a soft smile, "Glad to hear I'm still the most awesome then!"
She laughed and used her other hand to caress his face and pick some of the leaves out of his now disastrous hair, "Really, I mean it."
He softened and smiled in return, "Yeah, I know."
In a silent performance, she pulled him in and kissed him. Not a fiery kiss of physical desire as a preamble for the bedroom nor a light and swift one of relatives on the cheek. Instead it was gentle and deep, an expression of love, care, and above all trust, lasting a long while before they pulled away.
"You know Gil, we can always try next year for a date."
"Maybe yeah, but I just want to be here for a bit."
And so, they did. Both together under the arms of the Milky Way and light of the stars, surrounded only by the forests of old they knew so well. They chatted here and there, about the mundane and novel, the old and new, the profound and frivolous. But mostly they stayed in blissful silence, hands held, content to let a thousand years roll by under the night sky if it meant they could savor their love for every second of it.
It was only with the intrusion of dawn and the promise of the Sun's return as the sky began to turn from inky black to deep reds and purples that they finally left their spot. They made their way back to the car, not bothering to worry about how their fine outfits were all but destroyed as they got in and left back for home.
Worrying about formality and social convention could come later, for now, all they cared for and needed was each other in their purest form.