Chapter Text
“Schroeder is looking for you, Lucy.”
Despite being warmly wrapped in clothes, Lucy shivered. “How do you know?”
“Charlie Brown told me he’s waiting for you in the music room.” Frieda puffed her curly hair with the palm of her hand and looked down her nose at Lucy. “You’re not going to go, are you?”
Lucy frowned, today had been too hectic not to take a break with her violin. Her hands had already begun itching to play the moment she set her instrument in the music rooms then left for classes. Schroeder’s presence had never stopped her before, she’d learned to drown out his incessant ramblings and compliments. Kind of.
So she made her way to the music rooms with deep breaths to prepare herself for the oncoming barrage of adoration.
Schroeder, however, had gotten himself comfortable awaiting his proclaimed love to join him. She would always play in the music rooms during her free periods, Schroeder had managed to memorise her school schedule after a month of shadowing her. The same month that Lucy had described to her close friends as feeling like “somebody was always following me.”
Schroeder’s fingers brushed against her violin, and his chest felt hot with the images of Lucy’s well manicured fingers pressing against the strings. The most left one had recently been replaced after snapping, the old one managing to end up in a drawer in Schroeder’s room that had become dedicated to Lucy’s ‘lost’ things.
He could practically hear her beautiful tunes, and the occasional stump in her playing whenever he’d talk about how cute she was. He could also practically hear the clicking of her Mary Jane’s as she enclosed on the music room. Schroeder snapped his hand away from her violin and shut the case, returning it to how she’d left it. He didn’t intend to break it (not now, at least), but it’d put Lucy in a crabby mood to have her walk in on him being handsy with it.
“Oh Luuucy.” He called as she trudged through the music room doors. As usual, Lucy ignored him and returned to her violin like it was her lifeline. And her beautiful symphony started. Schroeder silently listened for a moment, it was a song she’d been trying to master recently, but he couldn’t quite place what it was, something by Bach or Beethoven maybe.
It wasn’t long before Schroeder’s mind drifted off into thoughts of their future. A beautiful wife dressed in blue that he could watch play all day long, what a life he had ahead of him.
“Say Lucy, if you and I were to get married, do you suppose we..”
Her playing stopped and she swatted her bow at him like it was a stick, “don’t say another word. We’re never going to get married so there’s no sense in talking about it.” Elegantly as ever— but clearly miffed— she returned to playing.
Undeterred, Schreoder huffed. “Now I forgot what I was going to say.”