#estaus

Still, she remained curious about her. Her sense of style and beauty had caught her eye many moons ago at meeting in Brussels. She had a way of words when she spoke. Whenever questions would arise, she seemed to have an answer ready and was open to new ideas. She was the perfect diplomat in every way. It was no wonder why Germany was always so impressed by her!

But most importantly, she was lonely. She lived in a large home by herself and didn't have many friends. Very rarely did she ever go out and instead stuck to playing music for hours on end in her study. Everyone she knew seemed to be in Estonia's circle somehow. Perhaps there was room for her too.

Because she was too shy to talk to her personally, she chose to ask around with the people she knew. She and Hungary were joining Lithuania and Poland for lunch at a small restaurant in Budapest. Ukraine and Belarus were supposed to have joined them as well but had forgotten they had a previous engagement with their sister. Austria was on friendly terms with the two women and had noticed many times, they hung out with Estonia. They must have been close friends, Austria had noted, and figured it'd be the perfect opportunity to clear up the air surrounding her curiosities. They had ordered some sandwiches and salads with a side order of homemade fries to compliment their meal. Austria however ended up giving most of them to Hungary. For dessert, they all enjoyed coffee and a slice of strawberry vanilla cake.

Austria remained silent throughout most of the gathering. She did most of the time anyhow as Hungary was a chatterbox whenever the four of them got together. Their laughter got a little loud at times that Austria worriedly wondered if they were disturbing the other customers. Time had flown rather quickly however when she noticed on her watch that they had been at the cafe for nearly two hours.

Poland was recalling a story that took place at Estonia's house a few weeks prior. Austria was enjoying a sip of her coffee when Hungary gave her a little nudge. She looked up at him in surprise and with an unpleasant glare but a slight nod of his head gave her a sign as if she should pay attention to the conversion. Poland continued on how Estonia organized a sleepover at her home, with her, Lithuania, Latvia, and Finland as the invitees. They had done all sorts of activities like play games (to which Finland destroyed them all at), marathon some mini-series, and catching up on old times, amongst other things; a typical girls night. Poland got a little side-tracked as she couldn't stop raving about the pastries and cakes that Estonia had baked herself and Lithuania had to interrupt and put her back on track. Hungary couldn't stop laughing.

“Sounds like a good time! Speaking of Estonia, Austria here has been wanting to meet her.”

Austria nearly jumped out of her seat when she heard his comment. “Hungary!!”

He grinned, “What? You haven't said much during this whole gathering so I did it for you.”

Austria huffed and looked away embarrassed as she sipped on her coffee. Lithuania giggled at the conversation unfolding.

“So you want to get to know Estonia, is that correct?”

“I'm curious about her, yes.” Austria became a little shy and hesitant but she quietly tried to keep things going, seeing there was no way she could back out with Hungary sitting next to her. “I only know her professionally but everyone seems to say such nice things about her. I always saw her as intimidating.”

Poland and Lithuania looked at her rather baffled.

“Intimidating? Well, she does have a strong image that she puts on strictly for work. But I can assure you she's not like that all the time. Estonia is actually very laid-back and friendly,” Lithuania replied. “You love to make music don't you? Estonia is very passionate about the subject. I think you two would be very good friends if you took the time to meet.”

During the time that Lithuania spoke, Austria stared down into her coffee rather somberly. Estonia had so many people in her life. Would there even be room for someone like her? She doesn't feel so sure of that.

Months had passed since their get-together at the restaurant and no progress had been made. Lithuania had given her Estonia's number but she never had the courage to pick up the phone and call her. But Austria's thoughts are plagued of the other woman, day and night. Everyday she sits at her bedroom vanity doing her hair and makeup and her mind always wanders. Lately her recent experience with Estonia has been looping in her head. At the last meeting in Berlin, Estonia had caught her glance and gave her such a warm and tender smile. She didn't know how to take it and quickly looked away, her cheeks turning a darker shade of red. Hungary couldn't stop poking fun at her for the rest of the day.

Dressed in a long lilac-coloured nightgown, she gets cozy under the sheets but her mind can't stop racing. She doesn't understand the feelings she's holding deep in her chest. She merely wanted a friend in Estonia but clearly something else is blossoming under the surface. She feels so alone in her journey, as Germany was clueless when it came to relationships and Hungary may push her further in places she is not ready to go to. Austria clutched her pillow tightly. Maybe as time goes on the feelings will dissipate and she'll look back at this as something silly to lose sleep over.

The next round of meetings was taking place in Tallinn and she had wondered if God was playing a cruel trick on her. But nevertheless, she went on the orders of her boss. She arrived in town a few days early to take in the sights. She hadn't been around these parts in several years and it was nice to be able to forget about work and just be a tourist.

The city was blessed with nice weather and Austria decided to head out and explore the city once again after breakfast. She had brought her violin with her on the plane but the neighbouring guests in the hotel seemed to considered her playing a nuisance. She was interested in finding a quiet spot where she could play a few notes. She admired the many buildings around town and found it fascinating how well the old city was preserved. She was not very savvy when it came to technology but she was able to snap a few photos with her phone, just as Hungary had taught her. She had walked quite a bit throughout the city and soon began to realize she was seeing less and less shops and people and more greenery and residential homes. She had walked into a wealthy suburb where many of the homes looked modern and new. A feeling of panic washed over her. She had no idea where she was or how to get back to the hotel. She couldn't read or speak the language and no one to call.

Austria was fuming. She knew better than to go wandering off so carefree like she did. It was so easy for her to lose track of time and her surroundings. Her only choice now was to hopefully find someone who could speak English and help her find her way back.

That was easier said than done however, as the neighbourhood felt like a giant maze. She swore she was going in circles.

She found it strange that with all these homes, not a soul could be found on the streets. Not that she had a right to complain however considering she rarely left her own home unless it was absolutely necessary. She checked the time on her watch. Though it had said 3:24, she had forgotten to adjust the hour on it to fit the timezone she was in after she had arrived. With the sun beginning to show signs of it setting, Austria had begun to wonder if she'd ever make it back to the hotel.

But passing by a nicely decorated home came the sounds of a piano. Her thoughts became lucid as she curiously stared at the property. She didn't recognize the tune but she knew talent when she heard it. With the sound beautiful, clear, and precise, whoever was playing must have had many years of practice under their belt. The window on the right side of the home was large and wide open but she couldn't tell who the mystery player was. As she debated whether or not to take a peek, the sound of a feminine voice rang through her ears.

She gasped. Never had she heard such a mesmerizing voice in her long life. The language was so foreign to her but she couldn't get enough of it. If she could stand there all day to just listen to this voice all day, she would do it in a heartbeat.

But who was this mysterious woman? She couldn't let that question go unanswered in her mind. She simply had to know. Austria was hesitant for a brief moment but quietly tip-toed further down the sidewalk to grab a peek inside the home. A clearer silhouette was forming and—

“Miss Estonia!”

The playing immediately stopped and Austria covered her mouth embarrassed. She had never meant to speak up like that but her shock was too much to contain. She had expected for Estonia to shoo her away and shut her window, seeing as she had arrived at her home unannounced. But instead she had smiled at the woman and walked up to the window to greet her. “Miss Austria! What brings you all the way out here?”

“Oh, um,” Austria struggled to find the words she had wanted to say. The whole experience so far had left her mind frazzled as she clutched her violin case tightly. “I was out sight-seeing and got myself lost. I don't know how to get back.”

Estonia hummed, “That is indeed a tough situation. I'm glad we caught each other then! I'd be happy to take you back into town. But first, why don't you stay a while? I'll make us some tea!”

“A-are you sure?” Austria asked in a surprised tone.

“Of course!” Estonia chirped. “The front door is unlocked so just come inside!”

Before Austria could protest, Estonia had already left. She had contemplated on whether or not to go inside but she really didn't have much of a choice. She quietly entered the home and removed her shoes. She left her violin case next to them by the door. Several pairs of slippers in different colours were on a shoe tray. She had figured they were for guests and slipped on the pink pair, as there was no purple pair, much to her disappointment.

Estonia's home was very cozy and welcoming with many of the shelves and tables decorated with homemade crafts and nick-knacks. Her living room walls were a bright baby blue colour while many of the window frames were white. Her lacy curtain was see-through and also white. In the distance, she could hear the sound of cups tinkering as Estonia emerged into the room with a tray of tea and two small strawberry pastries. Austria watched her carefully as she lay the tray down and poured her and herself a cup. The tea set was nicely designed in white with blue cornflowers all around it. She thanked her for her hospitality. The pastry looked delicious and was eager to try it. Taking the plate, she took a small bite and immediately fell in love.

“Is it good?” Estonia asked as she took a seat on the sofa across from her. Austria nodded.

“It is. Lots of flavour all around. Definitely one of the better pastries I've eaten.”

Estonia grinned. “I'm glad. I made it myself so I'm really happy you enjoy it.”

Austria finished the pastry rather quickly and immediately went for a sip of her tea. She studied Estonia closely. Dressed very modestly, she wore a simple blue plaid dress that stopped around her knees. Underneath, she wore a white top with puffy sleeves. On her left wrist, she wore a bracelet with blue plastic gems and a long necklace with a fancy silver key. Austria also took notice of the matching blue slippers. The air surrounding her was pleasant and relaxing and it made Austria feel comfortable and at peace. It was hard for her to believe that this was the same woman she was intimidated by.

“Miss Austria?”

She snapped out of her thoughts.

“You're close with Hungary aren't you?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“I figured as much. He's talked about you a lot.”

“Is that so?” Austria stared at her rather surprised.

“Yes, he's told me many things about you. Like how dedicated you are to music and cooking! He's told me you like to compose your own pieces and form your own recipes. Is that true?”

“Oh,” Austria was surprised at her questions but quickly remembered how Lithuania had mentioned she was very fond of the subject. She was happy to obliged in her curiosities. “Yes, I spend a lot of time in my study making my own music. It's been long-time love of mine.” A grin quickly formed on her face. “I mostly bake but I enjoy cooking as well. I like taking existing recipes and making my own twist to them. It's a struggle sometimes but once you find that right balance, it's extremely rewarding!”

“Yes!” Estonia chuckled. “I agree with you wholeheartedly! I too compose my own music and bake as well. I would love to hear and taste what you've made sometime.”

The two women enjoyed a lengthy conversation that lasted into the evening. Everything from their hobbies, to the instruments they played, work and their bosses, their friends, family, and even the annoying Prussia, nothing seemed to be off-limits. Estonia was impressed and thankful on how quickly Austria opened up to her. True to her word, she gave Austria a lift back to the hotel. When they arrived, she thanked Estonia again for her kindness and generosity.

“Hey, before you go, hand me your phone for a second.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

Austria wasn't sure why she was so interested in the device but she pulled it out of her pocket and handed it over. Estonia quickly went to work with the sounds of the keyboard emitting between them. In a flash, it was all over and handed it back to her.

“I've added my number to your contact list. Don't hesitate if you want to call me. I'd love to meet you again.”

Austria blushed, “Of course. I'd like that as well.”

“I'm glad. I'm happy I got the chance to meet you today,” Estonia said. “Hungary's been worried about you for a long time.”

“Oh?” Austria blinked curiously.

“Yes, he feels guilty that he can't come and see you as much as he used to. He hates to see you so alone in your home. He told me everything— how you wanted to meet me and how intimidating I appeared at times. I'm sorry if I ever frightened you at any point.”

She gasped, “Oh no! No, no! Please don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong. But I must ask, why didn't you reach out to me if you knew about it all?”

“We Estonians are very reserved. We almost never make the first move.” Estonia smiled. “I didn't want to invade your space, that's all.”

Austria seemed surprised of her response. But she was happy that Estonia was not upset with her and understanding of her feelings. She smiled back at the other woman as a feeling of joy washed over her. “You have a kind heart, Miss Estonia. Thank you again for everything.”

She quickly got out of the car and the two said their good-byes with a friendly wave. As she watched Estonia drive away, her heart sped up at the experience she just had. She doesn't know what kind of future is in store for the both of them. But whether it is friendship or love, she knows for sure that she has someone special in her life that she can always count on.

Analiese rarely ties her hair in any way that isn’t elegantly, slightly curled with the loose strands not captured by her amethyst-encrusted clip tumbling across her shoulders. Whilst she is a lady and ladies must always appear proper, playing the piano with her hair tied back has always been something she disliked. She couldn’t say she hated it, as ladies do not hate, but she insists that her creativity is held back in the same way her hair is. Creativity must flow, and must be allowed freedom to roam one’s environment, engulf one’s heart and soul and body until melodies and symphonies float off the tips of one’s fingers and onto the keys of the piano.

Today is not a symphony day.

Playing in her high school orchestra has never been a choice. It has always been a requirement. Her mother never dictated what she must or mustn’t do in regards to her classes, just that she picks an instrument and sticks with it. Analiese took the advice a bit too far, as now she plays both the piano and violin. Her one true musical love remains the former, however love is fickle and today is no exception to that.

The keys are almost mocking her. Analiese’s lips purse, the fingers of her left hand drumming on her thigh as she stares down at the keys. She has an hour of practice before auditions for the theatre’s play open up. She doesn’t intend on getting a part in the play; no, her goal rests in winning the coveted role of musical assistance via piano. It isn’t so much a goal as is a typical teenager’s definition of life and death. If she does not land the role, she might as well set aflame the piano in her home’s foyer. Practicing nearly all of her seventeen years of life only to not get such a simple part as high school theatre’s pianist? Ridiculous.

She would not be so worried if she had been the only pianist in the orchestra. Nobody else could audition, and she would automatically land the part. No, heaven forbid she get such an easy path in life! The drumming on her thigh gets faster and faster until her other hand slams down on the keys and an awful sound erupts from her instrument. Of course she cannot be the only pianist in this silly excuse for an orchestra. There just had to be another pianist auditioning.

Analiese doesn’t know much about her, just that her name is Evelin, they’re both seventeen, and her competitor has the messiest bun in existence. Has this girl never seen a comb before? Certainly she must have, as she’s always scrolling through her phone in class. It’s hard to not roll her eyes at this. Evelin can’t pay attention in class, but she can audition for such an extremely important role for the theatre. This makes perfect sense.

Her entire body shudders. Rolling her neck a bit to loosen the muscles, she waves her fingers before resting them atop the keys. Her playing begins nicely, but the nagging thought of having her hair tied back for appearances (first impressions are gravely important in auditioning) makes her right middle finger twitch and hit the wrong note. Next her left ring finger messes up, followed by her left index, right middle again, right index, left middle, left ring…

She isn’t aware she nearly shouts her frustrations until a girl’s voice asks her, “You okay there? You seem upset.” Analiese almost jumps off the bench from surprise, retracting her arms against her chest. She’s keenly aware she looks like a defensive, startled cat and likewise probably incredibly ridiculous, but the girl in the doorway doesn’t appear to be one for appearances either. With an annoyed huff, Analiese realizes the girl that startled her has a messy bun, jeans, and a smartphone sticking out of the pocket.

Curtly, she says, “No, not at all. I’m alright, Evelin. Do not get yourself worked into a tizzy over me. We do have auditions in an hour.” The end of her sentence comes out roughly, almost aggressively, but she controls it. Ladies are not aggressive, even to the competition. Ladies always keep their class about them.

Except for ladies like Evelin, apparently.

Evelin steps inside the orchestra room, dropping her bookbag in front of the wind instruments. She takes a seat in one of the chairs and crosses her ankles, watching Analiese over the rim of thick black glasses. If she had to label her fashion sense, Analiese would call her a messy discount rack concoction. Her friend Daniel is the same, and if the comparison holds true telling Evelin to dress better will only result in a snort and waved hand. She doesn’t care to find out.

“Do you need something from me?”

“No.”

Analiese narrows her eyes. “Then leave.”

Evelin smiles. “Nah.”

“Why not?”

“I wanna see you practice.” The words are simply, complimentary even, and they cause a warmth to rise in Analiese’s chest. If there is one thing she takes pride in, it’s her skill as a pianist. Everybody compliments her on how good she is, from her mother to Daniel to Julchen (though the latter she could bare to never hear speak again, the horrid scratchy tone to Julchen’s voice making Analiese’s sensitive artist’s ears hurt). No matter how much praise she receives, though, it still gets a joyful, flustered rise out of her which Evelin seems to pick up on based on how her smile turns into a smirk.

The smirk makes something twist in Analiese’s gut. “Well,” she starts nervously, “thank you, I suppose. I love an audience, but not when the audience is my competition. I don’t want you to learn about me and thus learn how to outdo me.”

“Outdo you? In an hour?” Evelin uncrosses her ankles and stands. She doesn’t move from where she is though. “I doubt I could outdo you in twenty four hours. No, make that twenty four years.”

Analiese turns on the bench so that she faces Evelin a bit more, putting less strain on her neck. “Why would you say that?”

“Piano is a hobby for me.”

She tugs on one of her loose curls, flingers threading through the strands of hair. “Hobby? Piano is my hobby as well.”

Evelin laughs under her breath, finally moving until she stands about a foot from the bench Analiese sits on. “Let me correct myself,” she says light-heartedly, “my hobby is not a lifetime dedication to the craft. I just play because it’s fun.” Her right shoulder lifts as a sort of half-shrug. “Plus, I need some musical accompaniment for my covers.”

“Covers? Like bed sheets?” Her response must be dumb because Evelin covers her mouth to keep from laughing, which makes Analiese visibly flush pink. “Hey, don’t laugh! I didn’t understand what you meant.”

Instead of responding, Evelin pulls out her phone and messes around for some odd seconds. Once she finds whatever it is she’s looking for, she motions for Analiese to scoot over. Warily, she does and Evelin sits in the vacated space on the bench next to her. Their knees brush briefly, jean on bare skin, and the burning in Analiese’s gut from before reignites. She doesn’t know why, and she has no time to contemplate why before Evelin tilts the phone on its side and presses play on a video.

The video is slightly grainy which Evelin apologizes for three different ways in ten seconds, but Analiese glances at her to silently tell her to shush so she can listen. Despite the video camera’s picture quality, the sound comes out clearly as it echoes in the orchestra room. In the frame, Evelin sits at a modestly-sized piano, more a keyboard than anything but the sounds are more in tune with a grand piano than a keyboard, in what appears to be a bedroom; on the walls behind her hang nerdy posters and the foot of dark blue sheets peek into the bottom right corner. Evelin’s hair is freed from its bun and it sits messily, somewhat tangled, brushing over the shoulder left bare from the clearly oversize shirt she’s wearing. Despite her appearance, she seems confident as she plays, her eyes falling shut and rendering the sheet music propped in front of her useless.

For five minutes the video plays, Evelin calmly pressing the keys and even humming under her breath. The camera angle never changes, leading Analiese to conclude this was shot on a tripod while Evelin was either home alone or in the company of people who didn’t mind her playing. Then again, who could mind such beautiful music? She hates to admit it, but Evelin’s playing might just be up to her well-trained standards. If Evelin can live up to the unspoken standards of an unofficial professional such as Analiese, they must be able to hold up at say, a high school theatre’s auditions. Her gut clenches and the worry of defeat drifts even further into her mind, threatening her imagined success. As mad as she wants to be at Evelin for being such a good pianist, she cannot bring herself to dislike good music no matter its producer.

The Evelin from the present lowers the phone and tucks some hair behind her ear. She’s chewing on her bottom lip and wearing such an expectant look. When Analiese doesn’t reply, she laughs and says, “Wow, I must’ve sucked for you to look at me like that.”

Before she can stop herself, Analiese rapidly shakes her head. “Goodness no! Evelin, your music is wonderful. Was that-?”

"Fur Elise , yes,” interrupts Evelin. The fingers that tucked hair behind her ear now play with the ends of it, twisting and rolling it. If she isn’t mistaken, Analiese spots a tinge of pink in her face. “I know you happen to enjoy that composition, so I decided to show you that video.”

Analiese mirrors her and begins playing with her own hair. “You knew? I don’t recall ever saying-”

“In class, when the teacher asked us our favorite pieces. You listed so many of Beethoven’s that everybody’s heads began to spin.” She giggles, and the sounds is almost as intoxicating as the piano she plays. Analiese gets a sinking in her gut unlike the one from before. “You said Fur Elise is your absolute favorite because your mother named you after it.”

Surprised is the best way Analiese finds to describe how she feels. All the years she and Evelin have been in the same orchestra classes, all the years she dismissed her as a techno-babbling lazy girl who only took the class for an easy A, all the times she’s caught sight of her on her phone during class, all of this and here Evelin is telling Analiese things about her that she didn’t know anybody else knew. She doesn’t know when she spouted off about Beethoven in class (to be fair, she spouts off about him often to Julchen and Monika who futily insist he is German), or when she told her classmates that her name is a variation on Elise, or when she stated her mother named her after the piece.

“When did I ever say any of this?”

Evelin excuses herself and stands up from the bench, sticking her phone back in her pocket. She remains silent as she collects her backpack and slings it on. She stops in the doorway despite what Analiese presumes to be her haste, and she turns around halfway. Even from a distance, she spots a fluster in Evelin’s cheeks which in turns makes Analiese’s face light up. She avoids eye contact for a solid fifteen seconds before she side-eyes her.

“You didn’t,” Evelin admits, “I just… I saw it online.” Her eyes squeeze shut and she spins on her heel and out the door. Analiese opens her mouth to protest, but she’s interrupted by a rushed, “Good luck at auditions!” and the door sliding shut.

Stupidly, Analiese stares at the door. Her hand floats uselessly in the air in the direction Evelin fled, and it takes a few seconds before it dawns on her how silly she looks, as if she’s an abandoned princess watching her dear prince abandon her. The comparison rings ridiculous after she thinks it. She is no princess, and Evelin is no prince. Neither of them are royalty, and yet…

Analiese looks at the instrument before her. She blinks, taking notice of a paper left carelessly on the rack for sheet music. Daintily she grabs it and brings it close enough that she can read the hurried, messy scrawling on the page.

Mornings had a rhythm. Laine was always the first to wake up, for example, but they’d get out of bed together, the time in between spent in silence. Laine would watch Anneliese lie there, the steady rise and fall of her chest, the hair spread out on her pillow, the sun golden on her skin through the blinds. She’d always pretend she wasn’t once Anneliese woke up, but she knew, and Laine knew she knew.

This morning, however, Anneliese woke up to an empty bed and muffled music coming from downstairs. It wasn’t strange- plenty of people awoke every morning to find themselves alone- but it was unusual for her not to have Laine lying there insisting she had just woken up despite already having her glasses on. Yawning, she groped around for her own glasses, swung her legs out of bed and pulled on a dressing gown, tying it tight around her waist. She padded down the stairs, music getting louder, loud enough to be recognisable. It was that song from that film with the spaceships and Harrison Ford that Laine had made her watch multiple times (she knew the name, of course, but she called it that to wind her up). The song from the bar that Laine insisted was “a cantina, Anna, not a bar”. Never argue with Laine on sci-fi terminology. You’ll never win.

The music was upbeat and jazzy, coming from the kitchen. Anneliese stepped inside to find Laine standing there- not just standing, no- dancing, hips swaying, feet stepping this way and that, hair flying, with a spatula in her hand and a pan on the stove. The air smelt sweet. Suppressing a laugh, Anneliese rested against the doorframe to enjoy the show. What a beautiful woman she had married, especially when she was enjoying herself. Unfortunately (or fortunately), Laine caught her eye and yelped, dropping her spatula.

“Anna! Damn it, how long were you standing there?”

“Long enough. Anyone ever tell you you’re a massive nerd?”

“Yeah, all the kids at school. Anyone ever tell you Star Wars is an excellent film with equally excellent music?” she retorted defensively.

“Yes, dear. You. Multiple times. Which entirely proves my point. What’s cooking?”

Laine picked up her spatula and went back to the stove. “Pancakes. I was trying to surprise you.

"Trying to. What’s the occasion?”

Laine shrugged. “Pancakes are the occasion. Take a seat, they’re nearly done.”

Anneliese chuckled and instead put her arms around Laine from behind, moving her hair out of the way to kiss the nape of her neck. “I’m happy here.”

Laine turned to return the kiss on her nose. “You’re a dork.”

“Well, your face is stupid,” she shot back.

“I’ve never been so hurt in all my life.”

“Payback.”

“Fair enough. Sit down, dork.”

Anneliese rolled her eyes and settled into a chair.

“Stupid-face.”

“Do you want your pancakes or not?”