Broadway Characters One Shots

moritz stiefel-spring awakening (cont.)

chapter songs:
The Theory of Everything from "Theory of Everything"
Mia & Sebastians's Theme from "La La Land"
No Surprises by Radiohead

recap

"Shit, I still have so much work to do." Moritz glances uneasily at the backpack shoved under the wooden slat/makeshift bed. "Eighty lines of Vergil."

"Vergil? I can do that in a minute tops." I smile up at him as I finish a pear from the basket.

"Really? Well, I don't want to ask...you've already done so much for me-"

I interrupt his kind words by placing my small hand on top of his warm one. His words instantly cease as he fixes his gaze on the small, but sensual action. His pale cheeks, painted with the bruise I noticed yesterday, flush into a rosy color. Bright blue eyes meet mine as smiles grow on our faces, uneasily, timidly, longingly.

"We're friends now, Moritz. I'm not gonna leave you hanging." I shrug my shoulders as if a universe of nerves isn't clouding my mind.

"Me neither." He trails his thumb across the soft skin of my palm, and I know...I know so much.

I know too much.

"Let's see that homework. Your class starts in an hour." My stomach begins to swirl with timorous longing, so I shift my attention to the homework to keep my mind off of the boy in front of me.

"Right...Vergil." He breathes out softly and hands me his lines of translation work.

I glance up at the shy school boy in front of me. Wearing a sleepy grin, my fathers coat, and a soft and gentle gaze, my heart never stops pounding in my chest. The warm sunlight bathes us in golden light and spring dew, but my skin feels cold without his touch.

Without him.

I try to ignore the fervent thoughts crashing through my mind, or the pounding creeping up my chest and into my hot ears. Focusing on the poetry homework and not Moritz's shy gaze is probably more difficult than one thousand lines of Vergil. My brain is bombarded with the longing calls of touch him, study him, kiss him.

Is it wrong to think about him in this way? To miss the feeling of his hand on mine? To want to ditch his homework and lay in the grassy hills, bathing in spring dew and the purple morning light? To hold him and heal him and-

"Um, are-are you stuck on the first line? I think it's 'I speak of arms and...men." Moritz's voice snaps me out of my daze. My head snaps up as I realize my hand was hovering the pen, blankly, hesitantly over the page.

"Right! Sorry um...sing." I write the first line of Moritz's homework as I ignore the blush creeping on my face.

"Hm?" The sunlight hits Moritz's face, painted purple with a bruised temple.

"Arma virumque cano. I sing of arms and men. Vergil's 'poems' were first songs performed with a lyre." I can't help the smile forming on my face as I meet Moritz's soft stare. The butterflies flutter through my stomach, and the warmth on my skin from the sunlight and Moritz intertwine with the cool breeze floating through our stuffy hayloft.

"Oh, that's...nice." His nervous voice melts into a soft laughter. The skin on my exposed arms seems to sting when he leans into my right side, "I feel guilty making you do my Latin."

I fly through the homework easily, for I'd done it a few weeks before. "Don't be, Moritz. Trust me, I'm having fun." I turn to my right, realizing just how close our timid bodies are.

The dimples on his cheeks when he smiles, the hidden frown when my eyes flick towards his bruise, it all makes me want to shut the hayloft door and hold Moritz in my arms. But instead, I divert my gaze towards the lined paper and hurry on with the Latin translations.