Elizabeta smiled as she picked up the phone to call the wedding planner. Roderich had recently proposed, so she was still in the stage of excited bliss. Truthfully, she wasn't sure if she wanted to marry him, but he was rich, handsome, talented, and smart. Problem was, he was also really busy, antisocial, and he didn't believe women had as many rights as men.

She didn't care though, she wanted to belong to someone, and she wanted someone to belong to her. Roderich was a good man, as everyone constantly reminded her, so she said yes. She was happy with the marriage, as any woman would be, but she could be happier.

The phone rang five times before it was picked up, "Bonjour! This is Bonnefoy Wedding Planners, how may I help you?"

"Hey Francis!"

"Ah! Is this the beau Elizabeta?" Francis asked, his voice was a tad bit sexual.

"I was wondering if I could schedule an appointment today so I could hire you? Roderich proposed," she exclaimed excitedly.

"Ah...so that's why..." Francis muttered before saying, "Well, I'm sorry to say that I'm busy. I truly do wish that I could help today, but it seems like I won't be getting any work done." He sighed

"Hm? What's wrong?"

"One of my maudit friends is a budding alcoholic, we're trying to help but...he's being difficile..." Francis trailed off, his voice uncertain.

"Oh, well I hope you have luck," she said, truly hoping that he did so she could continue with her wedding arrangements.

"I'll call you back as soon as I get some free time. I expect we'll break him of it today...avec espoir."

"Goodbye, Francis."

"Au revoir!"

She hung up and put her phone in her pocket. She expected that Francis would have it resolved in a day or two, so she could wait. Three weeks later, she was still waiting for him to call her. Elizabeta was upset, and wondering if he had forgotten about her, because she couldn't imagine that Francis was having that much trouble with it.

Her phone rang while she was still upset, but she answered anyway. "Hello?" She asked angrily.

"I'm so sorry, mon ami! I still haven't made progress with my friend, but you should come over anyway. I can't bear to put off such an important process any longer!" Francis said.

"Okay! I'll be over in a bit!" Elizabeta said happily.

Before she hung up, she heard a series of crashes and a slurred yelling. Francis exclaimed, "Ah! Nooooo! Stop throwing my plates!"

Elizabeta got ready quickly and took a taxi downtown. Francis lived on top of his store, an apartment that was actually a bit too big for one person. He was almost never alone there though, he was always having friends, girlfriends, or hookers over.

As she entered the store, the secretary was texting on her phone with her feet propped up on the desk. The secretary looked up at her, then hit a button on the wall beside her, "Francis, she's here."

The sounds of more crashes, fumbling, and the sound of being pushed into the wall followed, then Francis called back, it came out of a speaker next to the button. "Send her up! I'll try to subdue him!"

The secretary led Elizabeta to the stairwell, telling her to just go on up. She then walked back to her desk and began painting her toes while having an obnoxiously loud phone conversation. Elizabeta tromped up the stairs, opening the door at the landing when she got there.

The noises of fighting greeted her. She saw shards of porcelien on the floor, along with pieces of broken wood and ripped pieces of fabric. As she stolled through the foyer, she was greeted with the sight of Francis and Antonio pinning Gilbert to the floor, holding a six pack just out of the Prussian's reach. They all sported bruises and cuts, all looked tired, and all looked immensely angry.

"Give me the fucking beers!" He yelled, straining to try to grab them.

"No, amigo. You have to stop," Antonio said seriously.

"I can drink if I want!"

"Not if you act like this! You need to calm down, Gilbert!" Francis yelled.

That was when Antonio noticed Elizabeta. He elbowed Francis then nodded in her direction. All three men were now staring at her in a moment of silence. Then Gilbert turned and glared up at them, "Mein Gott! What the fuck is she doing here?"

"Business, Gil," Francis replied.

"Fucking traitor! Fuck you Francis! FUCK YOU!" Gilbert curses more and more.

"What's wrong with you Gil?" She asked angrily.

"Oh shut up!" He yelled at her.

She stomped over at her and kicked him in the side, he winced and glared up at her. "Answer me dammit!"

"Why do you even care? You're probably too obsessed with that fucking Roderich!"

At this point, Francis and Antonio have retreated to the kitchen for a quick break. They know that Gilbert would never hit a girl, so he'd just get into an arguement. Elizabeta had always been a really tough girl, so they could probably milk an hour out of it. Gilbert and Elizabeta were both standing and looking really furiously at each other, they were barely inches apart.

"Don't you dare insult my fiance," she yelled.

"I wouldn't have to if you chose someone better! That pussy is so fucking awful!"

"Like who? Who is better than him that likes me?" She asked, almost daring him to come up with a reply.

"Me, dammit! I've loved you forever!" Gilbert yelled, then turned and took a few steps toward the far wall, covering his face with his hand. "Gott, Lizzy..."

All of her anger vanished as soon as he said that, "What?"

"You heard me, don't make me repeat it," Gilbert said angrily.

"You love me? Isten, Gilbert, why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you ever look at someone like me? You stopped hanging out with me as soon as you met him when we were in sixth grade. I barely even got a chance," he croaked out.

She was staring at the back of his head, unsure of what she wanted. "Give me some time to think about this."

"As long as you give me some sort of answer at the end of the time."

"I will...I just..." Elizabeta shook her head, her eyes were filled with tears from confusion. She ran out of the apartment, out of the building, and down to a park. She collapsed onto a bench and panted.

She thought about Roderich, the frail boy who had wooed her through music and the finer arts. She thought of how he hadn't ever remembered any dates of importance, including her birthday, Christmas, or Valentines Day. She thought of how he would leave for concert tours without telling her. How he didn't tolerate jokes. How he would send her away when she was experiencing any sort of emotion, as if she was ruining his mood. How he had made her grow her hair out long when they were younger, because he didn't want to be seen in romantic situations with someone who had short hair, although she wouldn't cut it now, it was still demeaning.

She thought of the little boy she had known before Roderich, the boy with silver hair and red eyes. The boy who had played with the tomboy that the girls had outcast. The boy who gave her flowers when she got beat up and cried. The boy who laughed and rough housed with her. The boy who had treated her with such kindness and stuck up for her. The boy that sent her gifts at every holiday, even though they had long since stopped seeing each other. Gilbert was the boy who had shared almost every happy, sad, aggravating, or humiliating moment with her as a child. The boy who had called her pretty even on her worst days.

Gilbert knew things about her that Roderich would never know. He knew her favorite color, food, ice cream flavor, animal, flower, and more. He knew that she had been a tomboy because her father had always wanted a boy. He knew that she had started to be girly because her mother was embarrassed to be seen with her. He knew that she had cried herself to sleep at night when her parents argued. He knew that she would sneak out to sleep under a specific tree back in their hometown. He knew that she kept her nagymama's pan with her because she had always loved her more than anyone else. He knew that she used to draw swords and battles in the margins of her notebooks at school. He knew that she had started a yaoi website because she thought it was adorable and sexy how her friend Feli and Gilbert's brother started going out.

Gilbert had waited so long for her, and he had never wavered. He knew that he loved her. Roderich had never seemed interested in her at all. She remembered how Roderich had confessed by saying, "You're perhaps the prettiest girl I have seen. I believe that I like you. Will you do me the honor of going on an excursion with me?" It seemed rehearsed, like he had to convince himself to go out with her.

Elizabeta began to cry. She had promised herself to a man who was clearly uninterested in her, and was only going to be with her because he thought he had to. She had thought she was in love with this man, but she really wasn't. She was in love with the boy who had loved her since childhood. She was in love with the boy she had known, and since then he had become a man. A man who had been holding out for her. A man who had been heartbroken to find out about the engagement. A man who had finally confessed.

She looked up from her lap to see Roderich. He was walking through the park with a small smile on his face, and he hadn't noticed her. Roderich was wearing the ring, and kept touching it as if it was causing him slight anxiety. She knew what she had to do, because she didn't want to live with the man who didn't care to know anything about her. She wanted to be happy with the one who had experienced it all with her.

Elizabeta stood and removed the ring from her finger. She walked purposefully toward Roderich, and when she reached him he turned to meet her. He held out his arms as if he was expecting a hug or a kiss, but instead she pushed the ring into his hand.

"I can't marry you, Roderich. I love someone else," She then turned on her heel and walked back toward Francis's. She walked in, straight past the secretary, and walked up the stairs. When she reached the landing she knocked.

The door opened, revealing Francis, "You do have an answer for him, right?"

She nodded and smiled, "I can't believe I've been so stupid for so long." Francis let her in and pulled Antonio from the living room to give the two of them some room.

"You came back?" Gilbert asked, apparently he had expected to be left without an answer.

She nodded and rushed forward, capturing his lips in a kiss. They had always heard about fireworks going off when you were kissing the one, but it wasn't like fireworks. It was like a rock concert with the spotlight on them, with sparks exploding around them, and the singer singing perfectly. It was like flying through the air hand in hand and racing through clouds before sliding down rainbows. It was like rolling down a hill in a meadow filled with flowers, after a picnic, on the sunniest, most perfect day in spring when all of the butterflies are fluttering around them.

It was perfection.

Gilbert laced his arms around her, pulling her in close to him. She gripped the front of his shirt, making sure he wasn't going to pull away until they had to. After a minute or two, they had to break away for breath, and then they stared at each other.

"I love you, Gilbert Bielschmidt."

"I love you two, Elizabeta Hedervary."

Suddenly, Francis and Antonio were in the room again. "Well, since you two are so in love, can I plan your wedding?" Francis asked bluntly.

Gilbert turned to Elizabeta, "You wanna rush in and get married?"

"Yeah. I do." She smiled and pecked his cheek.