The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶 𝔬𝔫𝔢. ﾐ

╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲

⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀★

april 1859

"It's the day. It's the day. The day. Is here.."

Paul incessantly paced back and forth in the lounge room, hands fidgeting behind his back, mumbling under his breath, doing his best to blink away the exhaustion clinging to his eyelids.
He hadn't slept a wink the night before, tossing and turning on his mattress in nervousness and excitement into the wee hours of the morning. It must have been 5 or so in the morning when he finally succumbed to the depths of sleep - the result of that being Paul sleeping late into the day, (2pm if you want to be exact) Jim annoyed at him as he had tried to wake the boy up - but it seemed the boy's brain had been determined to continue sleeping.

The day was crawling by with as much slowness as a bloody snail, Paul having no idea what exact time John was expected to arrive, and whether he would be able to escape Mimi's clutches at all before the night fell. So, he did his best to fill up the time with eating a long brunch, working out with the crops on the farm and feeding the sheep, the like. He didn't have to do work at the wood chopper's that day, thank god.

But Paul didn't know if he could wait that much longer; he was ready to just up and run to John's gigantic manor and wait for him outside so he could kiss him until his lips went numb as soon as he got off the carriage. He felt a little bit like a housewife waiting for her husband to come home from a business trip or something. The thought made him chuckle.

The sun was sinking down below the horizon at that point, the sky turning into a deep honey. His father and brother had tried to pry the reasoning for his skittishness out of him, but he hadn't budged, saying he just hadn't got much sleep that night and was feeling weird. He had even caught Jane staring at him pacing and muttering from the bottom of the stairs, which led up to the Asher's part of the house, but she had just blushed furiously and hurried out of sight. Flopping onto the couch, Paul let out a sigh and rubbed at his aching forehead harshly before tapping his fingers against his knee impatiently. When the hell is he gonna come? How do I know when he's gonna be here? He groaned, resting his head in his hands before standing up, itching to just sprint for a few kilometres or smash his head with a pot or something stupid like that.

What he decided on was to leave the house and make his way into the forest, hopping over the fence with ease, following the beaten path down to his secret spot. Well, not so secret anymore, as John knew about it. Not that he minded, though. He could envision many wonderful days spent with his boyfriend here in the future. It was pleasantly warm, and he relished being able to wear just a shirt with rolled up sleeves and some trousers, not bothering with anything else. It was so soothing to feel the cool grass under his bare feet - once he made it to his spot, he settled into the dip and reached under the exposed roots of the tree to find the box. The key he had hidden in one of the exposed roots, a perfectly-shaped little hole having been created long ago by some bug. Slipping out the rusted key, he slipped it into the lock and opened it up.