Work Text:
It was an unusually cold January morning, and the sun filtered slowly into Amalia's bedroom. Her eyes slowly opened, not that she had really been able to sleep soundly the night before. After all, today was the day that she are Georg were to be married. Just this thought put a grin on her face and butterflies in her stomach.
With far too much energy for the lack of sleep she'd just endured, she pulled herself from the creaky bed and floated to her closet where her dress hung.
***SLM***
Georg' hands trembled even worse than on the day he had discovered Dear Friend, Amalia, loved him, thus ensuring that his tie was to remain untied for that moment. He could barely contain his excitement.
Six months ago, nearly to the day, when he placed his not altogether perfect but far from silly looking ad in the local paper he had not expected a response, let alone to meet someone who he loved. And in that short time he'd managed to find the person he loved an who loved him. Amalia loved him. The thought still made him want to do a cartwheel and run around town. But, for today at least, he would settle for proclaiming his love for her before her mother, Ladislav, Arpad, Ilona, Mr. Maraczek and a few other relatives that neither of them usually spoke to but had invited to be polite.
"You look so grown up, Georg," said a voice that snapped him out of his daydreams.
Georg abandoned his necktie around his neck and turned slowly to see his father standing in the doorway of the church room her was dressing in.
"Thank you, apa," Georg responded. "I still can't believe it's actually happening."
His father just smiled happily.
"Your mother would be so proud."
Georg simply smiled, and tucked a piece of pink paper, his dear friend's first letter to him, into his suit pocket.
***SLM***
"Amalia, you look beautiful!"
Amalia jumped, clearly not expecting to see Ilona standing in the doorway.
"Thank you. You don't think it's too much?" Amalia had seemed so sure just weeks before that she had wanted to wear her mother's dress. It was a beautiful dress, and a pure coincidence that it fit her properly. Okay, maybe coincidence wasn't the right word for it; she was, after all, the spitting image of her mother. Only older looking.
"Absolutely," Ilona replied. "Anyway, I just wanted to come say hi before the ceremony. Oh, and don't forget your vows. Good luck!"
"Thank you. I guess I'll see you in a moment then," Amalia said.
As Ilona exited, Amalia went over what she had to say once again in her head: Since the day we first met and I thought you to be awful...
***SLM***
There was thunderous applause from the little crowd that had gathered as the bride and groom shared their first kiss as a married couple. It was a passionate yet still appropriate for public viewing kiss, and they deprecated shortly after, each with their own slightly embarrassed smile. Public displays of affection were new to the usually shy people.
Amalia looked at her husband.
"I love you, dear friend," she said.
With the same stupidly happy and loving look, Georg responded: "I love you too."
***SLM***
"Congratulations," Zsuzsanna, Amalia's second cousins twice removed (or something like that. Amalia didn't even know half of these people, and yet her mother insisted that she must invite the whole family so as not to offend anyone.) wished the happy couple. Being the last one in line, the newlyweds graciously thanked her and then hurried to where they could have a seat.
"I didn't know you were related to half of Budapest, sweetheart," Georg whispered into Amalia's ear with a slight giggle.
"Yes, well these are only the ones who accepted our invitation," Amalia quipped in return. "Now hurry up and eat, I want to have our first dance before my shoes get stolen."
Georg chuckled at the reminder of the ever so popular wedding game. He himself has been a champion shoe-thief, being both the youngest and the smallest of five children. That is, until he had a major growth spurt at thirteen, leaving him feeling awkward and gangly. It was almost funny, though, how Amalia had accused him in her fever-induced delirium of stealing her shoe not too long ago. After all, her was the one he didn't.
When Georg snapped out of his thoughts, he was suddenly confronted with his wife softly chastising one of her little niece (or was it one of her cousins' children? He'd never figure out who was who in her family) for trying to steal one of her white pumps. The child, looking as though they weren't truly feeling guilty was eventually let go of, and returned to her brother (or cousin? Georg still didn't know).
***SLM***
If Amalia was nervous about their first dance as husband and wife, it was nothing compared to how Georg felt. He was sweating as though it were the peek of summer and had turned the colour of a ripened tomato.
"Amalia, you know I can't really dance..." This had been his argument for weeks.
"It will all be fine. Just let me lead," she'd replied each time.
Surprisingly (for Georg anyway, who, though he didn't doubt Amalia, felt he could have used several decades more of dance practice before this all too important moment) the dance went relatively smoothly, with Georg only stepping on Amalia's feet twice.
After their dance, Georg and Amalia both insured that they sit down for a bit.
As they walked back to their round table with the white tablecloth, they slid into their adjacent chairs.
"You know," Amalia said as she leaned her head on his shoulder thigh she knew that this would lead to messing up her carefully done hair. At that moment she didn't truly care. "We could always leave soon if you want. I'm fairly sure no one would even notice."
Feigning shock, Georg gasped.
"Miss Balash, dis you just suggest we abandon our families so as to have some alone time?"
"It's Mrs. Nowack," Amalia replied cheekily. "And I believe I did."
"Well I never!" Georg continued. "How soon do you think we can escape?" He added in a more hushed tone.
"Well, since the majority of the night has already gone by," Amalia discerned. "I'd say now."
"Thank goodness," he said with a grin. "I was beginning to think that this hall would be our new home."
"Absolutely not. In rather partial to the apartment we finally get to stay in tonight."
Georg smiled, and tilted his head so as to capture his wife's lips in a kiss.
"I'm glad. Shall we?" He asked as he stood up and held out his arm.
Amalia went to stand. However, halfway through the movement she stopped.
"Where's my other shoe?" She asked as she looked down at her feet.
Not too far away, Amalia spotted the niece who had tried to steal her shoe before holding it triumphantly like a golden trophy, and giggling. At this scene, Amalia and Georg couldn't help themselves; they too erupted in laughter.
"I guess our plans will be slightly delayed," Georg stated.
"I guess they will," Amalia agreed. "Now how should we go about capturing a shoe thief?"