Laurie's thinking, always a dangerous thing.

Hello! I'm Coffee Filters and this is my new start at Fanfiction writing! I have to admit that I am nervous as hell to be posting this, but I'm very proud of myself to be actually posting at the same time. Anywho, this actually started out with me wanting Laurie to realize how much in love with Jo he actually is, but it ended up way different than what I even expected. I'm a natural Jo and Laurie campaigner, but I'm very happy with how this turned out.

Need I even add the disclaimer? Because I don't own anything obviously…

The Exception

There was no reason to love her anymore. She didn't want him, and he had learned to stop loving her.

But…

But. There was always that exception, Laurie would remind himself. He did have some affection left for her. Who wouldn't? His first best friend, love, proposal? And now they were officially brother and sister, so not loving her was out of the question.

To Laurie, love had to be nurtured to grow and to stay constant. Jo doused every hope of him staying true to it. He needed some reciprocation to be able to love her, honestly and without consequence. She just wouldn't allow it.

Of course, she avoided him more. For the first few months him and Amy were back, Jo gave them peace, stealthily hiding out in the attic or hiding out in the kitchen. Amy and Laurie were free to roam the gardens without any watchers by or sisters to intrude upon their paradise.

He loved Amy. She gave him everything that he had wished Jo would. Amy was his muse in life, his companion, his moralizer. Almost switching shoes with Sister Jo.

But…

There was that but again. The exception that always made Laurie feel guilty about his decision. He shouldn't have that "but" lingering in the back of his mind when Amy was so near and so in love with him.

She was everything to him now. His new family. His new Jo.

Laurie shook his head. This was unfair, unfair for him to do this to Amy. She was different from Jo, and he loved her for it.

Although, there really was no denying it. Amy underwent a change in Europe. She wasn't the old Amy who was almost ashamed of her family or more concerned with materialistic belongings. Her entire character seemed new and reminiscent of Jo.

When he first encountered her abroad, she scolded and lectured him, even calling him Teddy once. Back then, it charmed him. The smallest March preaching to him reminded him of home.

And of Jo.

But, why did it just seem like he replaced her? He never had time to cope with what Jo did to him. He didn't have time to think. Instead, he immediately jumped back in and found something new, something better.

The latter was up to debate, but Laurie considered it true.

He considered her his savior, his fulfillment, his hope.

"You're too young to be bitter," she had told him once, and Laurie refused to hear it then, but he heard her now. He was too young, too dramatic, too eager in anything he ever overtook. Never really considering the consequences until all his plans came smashing down on him. That was Laurie, all heart and no head. Probably his Italian side, he excused.

But Jo was always happy to keep him on the right track, and always there for him. She was resigned now. She understood her new place in his heart, and took it willingly. Too willingly, for his taste, as if everything they've gone through meant so little to her. That was him being bitter again. No, he amended, Jo, was being frank Jo again.

She never loved him, cared for him, yes, but loved him? That was an undeniable "no," in his mind.

He smiled as he saw Amy walked past his door, and he kept on smiling until he heard her small footsteps disappear into the hallway.

He still loved Jo. She was still his, despite what she said and did, but he was with Amy.

Amy, who he loved and, more importantly, received love in return. Laurie might be all heart and no head, but he was logical. He knew when the time was to move on, and he was going to with Amy and heart in hand.

And he couldn't fathom an exception to that.

That's it. Thanks for reading.