Closed Say it Louder

[Pia Morales]

Pia would hardly consider herself to be calculated, over-organized or pedantic in nature. At least not more so than she deemed functionally necessary and required for maintaining her career as a healer. However, she was certainly and admittedly goal oriented, and understood the process of calculating and organizing steps to reach her goals, with or without an air of pedanticness. It had done her well in school and in her time as an adult thus far, the fact she had completed her healer training while simultaneously working as a bartender, and now in her success as a full time healer being a testament to this. Pia was strong and decided, and definitely knew what she wanted to achieve in her life and she had achieved much of it in the sense of her career. She was exactly where the wanted to be in regards to her working and financial life and viewed her decisions towards this plateau she had reached with pride at how hard she had worked.

Although one thought that did bode regret in her success, was that, as each day, month, and year passed it became more apparent to Pia that her goals for her personal life had fallen to the wayside in lieu of her career. There were goals she had wanted to achieve before turning thirty, namely having children that she knew would be detrimented by the further passing of time, and of course she couldn't begin to try to have children without pedantically following the steps she had organized in her mind, not without being married first and foremost in her traditional belief of things, and neither before owning a house to raise the children in.

Since Pia had surpassed the age of thirty without any children or spouse and only the possibility of owning a property, she knew needed to make decisions and changes following these decisions, so her success in her working life matched perfectly with her personal life before it was too late. Thus in an attempt to get her personal life together, that evening Pia had invited Orwell over for dinner, and in the kitchen with a glass of wine was where she currently found herself. Orwell was her boyfriend in every other way than officially, and the intention for that evening was for Pia to propose her goals and assess if Orwell's goals matched hers enough for them to move forward together. Pia was certainly in love with Orwell, it was a feeling she had recognized shortly into their friendship and well before they had began seeing each other as more than friends. She knew she would be happy to share the rest of her life with her ever vibrant, attentive and chaotic fellow Ravenclaw. But whether Orwell felt the same and was ready for another step was a question Pia didn't have the answer to. As she placed the pasta bake in the oven and set the timer, she sipped from her glass of wine and hoped she would know the answer soon, either so she could move on from him and find someone who's ideals matched hers, or so she could finally start the rest of her life with someone she knew she cared endlessly about. ​

 

[Orwell Brocken]

For Orwell, life was rather easy. He had a good job, one that while not always paying well, was one he felt so fulfilled by. In a way that never would've been possible in his community or if he'd bent the knee to society. It helped that he had a great best friend, with whom he knew was his platonic life partner, and he had Pia too. Beautiful, intelligent and amazing Pia. They technically weren't official but they'd been doing what they were doing for a while, and for Orwell who was unbothered by labels and unbothered by much he was content with it. He didn't feel the need for things to change for them. Things were good. They were exactly how he liked them. Though admittedly as more people around him began taking those steps towards the traditional things in life, family, marriage, he was thinking that perhaps some of that would be quite nice. He hadn't flagged it to Pia, not sure he really wanted to, things with them were good, and they didn't need things to change. The man had been invited to dinner with Pia, and he was eager for it. It was always good to see her, and he enjoyed spending evenings and nights with her. He enjoyed the early mornings when he would be half asleep and she either got ready or the roles were reverse.

Orwell had rearranged his day the following to ensure he could spend the most amount of time with her, and stepped into her home. He could immediately smell the food, and sigh contently, there was something about a good home cooked meal. "Pia, I'm here," he called out with a warm tone. Beginning to venture further inside. It smelled good. "Smells incredible," he said as he walked to the kitchen and saw her there with some wine. "Did you start without me?" he joked lightly. Of course it wasn't something that he minded, he would never make her wait for something like that, not when he was the one being i9nvited to dinner. Orwell could admit it was maybe just a bit out of the blue all of this, but he wasn't one to question such things, just content to go along with it. ​

 

[Pia Morales]

Orwell was like a breath of fresh air after a lifetime of inhaling smoke, and his presence in Pia's life would be nothing other than calming. He was naturally himself and she was naturally drawn to him, finding herself feeling free and relaxed whenever he was nearby. That evening was no exception, Orwell's arrival practically melting anyway any of the tension she had in her shoulders, if any tension hadn't already faded with the aid of her half finished glass of wine. "Of course, querido*." Pia exhaled as her expression warmed into an easy smile, shifting to place her glass on the counter and move a hand to Orwell's hair, gently running her fingers through it and kissing Orwell softly. A moment later she shifted away, wordlessly reaching into a nearby overhead cabinet to retrieve another glass, then picking up the opened bottle of Merlot and pouring Orwell a serving. She resumed holding her own glass and sipped from it, keeping her eyes on Orwell and swirling her glass gently as she tried to form her intentions into words.

Pia knew her plan for that evening was out of the blue; a sudden change to her and Orwell's routine of winging it when they decided on their meals and plans at the end of the day. She also knew she wouldn't have such an important conversation any way other than preceded with a glass of wine and a home cooked meal to ensure she and Orwell were as comfortable as possible. The only two things Pia didn't know was how to introduce the subject of their future and her questions, and nor what Orwell's reaction would be to it. They had been in a haze of casualty, of comfortable informality with each other and their situation and Pia up until that point wouldn't have had it any other way. However now as Pia's age dawned on her and her life goals and timeline loomed over her decisions, weighing heavily on her mind, she knew she needed to bring everything up, knew she needed to decide how she was going to spend the rest of her life lest she risk wasting the time she had left.

Pia sipped from her wine again, her eyes quickly moving to the oven timer that quietly ticked away and then returning to Orwell. "I had wanted to talk with you tonight about our future. If you would like to talk about it." She began, deciding that testing the waters in asking if Orwell was comfortable with such a discussion was the best choice, aforementioning the rest of the questions she had in her mind.

* Querido meaning 'Dear' in Spanish.​

 

[Orwell Brocken]

Orwell moved into Pia's space, kissing her back and letting her run her hand through his hair. He loved the tender moments with her. It was so easy to leave the worries of the day behind and just focus on how at home and ease he was with her. He took the glass as it was handed to him and took a little sip. He liked wine enough, though really to him they did all taste the exact same. There was no difference between the reds he tried. He watched Pia as she moved around the kitchen and nodded at her words. She wanted to talk. With someone else those words might've ended up with him being worried about what she might want to discuss about the future, but with her, he was quite sure it would be fine.

So, Orwell nodded at her. "Of course, talking about the future is good, I'd like that," it was try that he'd been thinking about the future and this would be the time to discuss it with her, to go over all that he'd ever thought and figure out where they both were to know what the future would hold for them. he really hoped that they were aligned on this, but he felt he knew Pia well, and knew that they would be. Orwell took another sip of his wine, intending now to drink slowly so that he was present and aware of everything that was happening.​

 

[Pia Morales]

Orwell's answer was positive, an agreement in the mutual understanding they always seemed to have. Whether intentional or not they always appeared to be on a similar wavelength, wading through life hand in hand and this along with many other reasons was why Pia couldn't imagine spending her life with anyone else, why she wanted to ask whether Orwell wanted the same thing. Still smiling, Pia reached her free hand to the side of Orwell's face, brushing her thumb against his cheek and shifting to clink her wine glass against Orwell's in a cheers. "Good, I'm glad." She said with an air of softness, not a moment later moving her hand away as the oven timer began to ring.

Soon enough the table was set and Pia and Orwell were midway through their meal. Pia had until that point returned to safer more expected topics, asking Orwell how his day had been and returning his sentiments with how her own day at St Mungo's had fared, its highlights and downsides. Both of which were unfortunately frequent in maternal medicine, and furthermore amplified by her empathy for each of her patients. She had told Orwell all she was able to until she picked up the wine glass she had been nursing to remain a sensible amount of sober, only then finishing the last sip and using the empty glass as a catalyst to return to the reason she asked to see him that evening. Reminding herself that their future was the topic of the night and as interesting as Orwell's day always seemed to be, she still needed to get through the subject of what was in store for their relationship. "Anyway, our future," Pia began, clearing her throat softly and using her napkin to politely dab at the sides of her mouth before continuing. "We have been what we are for a while now, and I am happy with this, you know I am." She waved her hand slightly as she spoke, to emphasize she was happy with Orwell, and the conversation was not one brought on by unhappiness but rather by the ticking along of time.

"The problem is that time is passing, and I would like to get married and have children. With what I do I know time is an important factor, age is an important factor, and I would like this now, I would like to have a family now. It is something I need to do now because it will otherwise be too late, do you understand what I mean?" Pia realised she was unloading a bit, but knew she wouldn't be able to word her feelings any other way in the long form they deserved, with the seriousness the subject deserved. "I have been looking at houses and I would like to buy a house, this is something I can do alone but I would like to marry you and buy a house with you, start a family with you, if you would like to do this with me." She added, keeping her attention on Orwell to interpret his reaction. "Would you like this, too?" Pia finally asked. It was a loaded question and one Pia in equal parts would find both impossible and simple to answer given the circumstances. She understood the gravity of what she was asking of Orwell and also understood her part in explaining and asking had been played, she had nothing further to explain and therefore only properly exhaled and relaxed slightly after the words left her mouth, giving herself a moment to breathe as she waited for Orwell's response. ​

 

[Orwell Brocken]

Orwell took a sip of his wine and then followed Pia to sit. The dinner itself started fine. He loved listening to her talk about her job, always felt in awe of the work that she did while sometimes he just handed out some leaflets. But he knew that her work was never for him, and his work was. he liked what he did even if no one else would. He glanced up after a little pause in the conversation and as she began speaking. He put down his glass and focused all of his attention on to her. They had been together for a while and he was glad for the reassurance that she was happy with it. He knew it, but given she wanted to talk about the future the reassurance was nice.

Orwell had never known Pia to be anything less than direct. He nodded at her words, nodding in understanding, he didn't immediately say anything, trying his best to form his words, wondering if now was just the time to get down on one knee and propose, but she continued. He knew that Pia could very well do most of it alone, but he was glad she wanted to do it with him. Orwell nodded, ”I would like that,” he took his wand and with wordless magic conjured up a little ring made of little flowers. It probably wouldn't last too long, but he figured it would be a first step in all of this. ”I want a family with you, I can contribute all I have to a house and I can't wait to read way too complex books to our children.” he said, holding out the flower ring to her. ”And I'd love to get married,”​

 

[Pia Morales]

It would be silly of Pia to allow herself to feel nervous as she waited for Orwell's response, and she knew this. Whether it was a spur of the moment question about something trivial like what they wanted to make for dinner that day, or a question as loaded and seemingly overwhelming as she one Pia was indeed asking of him, Orwell always seemed calm around her, always had an air of going with the flow. Of course in the case of politics Orwell could hardly be considered calm however that was something Pia knew not to question, and something she both agreed with and encouraged in him. His calming nature and the other side of the coin that was his passion over politics were just a few of the many things she loved and respected about Orwell, things she knew would only make the journey of getting married and starting a family with him all the more worth it. She reminded herself of this as she watched for Orwell's response to her question, his eventual nodding and words he wanted the same with her bringing a smile to her face.

As Orwell elaborated in his response, Pia couldn't help but feel her smile grow wider, and a bashful blush warm its way onto her features, especially as Orwell conjured a ring of flowers for her. In most of the ways they were on the same page of the same book, in the same chapter of their lives she was happy to be told Orwell wanted the same as her, wanted to start a family and get married and cultivate a future together, a future Pia had always dreamed of. By all means she accepted the ring of flowers Orwell quickly offered, reaching her hand out for Orwell to slide the ring on her left ring finger, a physical representation of the commitment they were going to make. Of the life they had both agreed to build together and of the future Pia asked for that would now entirely begin to come true. Still smiling widely, Pia observed the make shift ring on her finger, holding up her hand slightly before reaching over to hold Orwell's hand. "I am now the happiest woman in the world." She mused, leaning forward to kiss Orwell softly in a show of appreciation of both his gesture of the ring, and what the ring meant to her. The rest of Pia's life was waiting right around the corner and she was happy to meet her future with open arms. ​

 

[Orwell Brocken]

Orwell was quite sure that this would be an accepted ring, and accepted engagement, given their conversation, but there was still a part of him that was nervous upon having asked it. he knew it wouldn't change much in the function of their relationship, add some legal backing and some useful information but nothing much more than that. It wouldn't be necessary for anything else. He loved her and knew it would be a good step for them, but he knew this wouldn't change his overriding love for her.

Thankfully though, for Orwell, Pia was quick to accept it, and he was able to slide the little flower right on to her finger. It was a placeholder, but he was sure he'd search out for a ring that would have flowers of some kind on them. Something that could represent them even in a ring. He squeezed her hand as she took it gently, and gave a little smile as she leaned in to kiss him, which of course he returned, kissing her back and letting the feeling of moving forward with her wash over him. There would be a lot for them to do, a lot for them to get to in planning a wedding and moving forward together but he was sure they'd manage it all just fine and like everything else, at their own pace. ​