What Happens in Vienna {ManxMan}

CHAPTER 7 (Carter)

My mother always told me the best thing about my father was that they could talk for hours and hours about anything and everything, until the sun was long gone from the sky and they'd both passed out from exhaustion mid-sentence, wake up in the morning, and continue their conversation, without having lost any amount of love for each other, no matter what they'd talked about. She always said that when I looked for someone to spend my life with, look for the person I could talk to like she talked to my father.

When I woke up I found myself tucked under the covers of the bed I'd been given, pushing myself up and rubbing the sleep from my eyes before looking around as if Tobias would still be there. The chair was vacant, door shut, I was alone, but there was this warm feeling in my chest that I hadn't felt in so long it almost seemed like an illusion.

I can't even remember all that we talked about, mainly a lot of historical and cultural facts. I talked about sheep and he talked about sheet music, and a dozen other things before I fell asleep. The last thing I remembered was Tobias talking about the violin being his favorite instrument. He talked about always wanting to learn how to play, but never having the money for it when he was younger.

It was one of the things he regretted, because living in Austria kind of set a path to musical talent for him, but he was never able to pursue it. For some reason as I sat there in bed waking up, that piece of knowledge stuck with me. Tobias liked the violin. He always wanted to learn. I kept thinking that over and over until there was a knock at my door and it was pushed open so Kiefer could poke his head in.

"Guten Morgen," he greeted when he saw me awake, "I have brought you a change of clothes, breakfast will be starting soon."

"What?" I blurted, still feeling slightly off kilter from the fact I stayed awake so long, "What time is it?"

"Eight. Here," he set down the little pile of clothes and backed up again, nodding, "Just knock when you are ready."

With that he shut the door, and I blinked a few times to wake myself up a little more before pushing the covers back and grabbing the clean clothes. I was in a trance of sorts as I automatically got dressed, slowly remembering the conversation I'd had with Tobias just hours earlier.

When he'd first walked into the room I had expected him to start grinding out hard questions like Bryn wanted, but instead he'd asked about the dragon on the Welsh flag. Anyone else would have gotten sick of me talking about my culture the way I'd done last night, even Bay would get fed up with it easily, but Tobias never told me to shut up, never told me I was boring.

No, the entire time he just watched me with this raw fascination that had my heart gunning in my chest in a way I hadn't felt before. He cared about my culture. He wasn't just curious and knowledge hungry, the more I talked, the more I saw the light in his eyes, and after so long being surrounded by people who didn't give a crap, I wasn't entirely sure how I was supposed to react.

The breakfast was just as extravagant as the dinner was. Plates of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, fruit, and pancakes, accompanied by pitchers of juice and coffee sent a mixed aroma into the air that had my mouth watering and my stomach growling as I took my seat.

Tobias was already there, his head in his hand and his eyes closed, Bryn talking to him while flipping through papers on a clipboard. I didn't know what he was saying, but it must have been important, because when he realized Tobias wasn't listening he took the clipboard and smacked the man over the head with it.

He jumped from the assault and grabbed at his head, gaping at Bryn with wide eyes, "Hey!"

"You're not listening! This is important, Tobias!"