einigkeit-recht:
While the German had freedom, he’d always played too close to the rules, to bind himself to them as a way to navigate the world. Sticking too close to maps when the world had changed too much around him to be useful. This, Ludwig reasoned, is what freedom truly was like. Freedom to choose, to decide where to go with his life. To choose, over and over, to do good and to decide on love and life and happiness. Apparently it took a woman who embodied the seas, mutable and dynamic, to show him how to be free.
Gazing softly at Naia as she leaned away, his reply was easy. “Now, that would ruin the magic of it, wouldn’t it?” His smile never seemed to disappear, watching Naia skip over to the table, the warm glow of the overhead string lights making the entire atmosphere just that much more cozy. Ludwig follows her into the garden, letting the gate close behind him.
“I’m glad you like it,” The German replies, moving to scoot her into the table before taking his spot across from her. He’d been planning this for weeks, getting help from Bastian, Mathias and Gemma on the detailing and everything going into tonight. While he wasn’t helpless, he just wanted everything to be as perfect as he could make it.
Leaning over to a waiting picnic basket, Ludwig opens it up to reveal containers holding their dinner. Since Naia had been in his home for so long, he heavily pestered Toni, Gemma and João on what he should make for Naia. Her favorites from home.
“I suppose, but even still--” Naia giggles, spinning in her skipping steps towards the table, eyes bright with excitement at the set up that the German had made just for her. It was more than she could’ve ever asked for, and his efforts did not go unnoticed; she was appreciative of everything that he had poured into this-- just for her. Her smile only widens noticing her favourite flowers and foods and Naia can’t help but grin widely at Ludwig, thanks dancing in her eyes for the absolutely beautiful display and atmosphere. “You really pulled out all of the stops, didn’t you?” She laughs, carefully tracing her fingers along the rim of the plate, taking in everything that the German had done for her. She looks up and coos excitedly at the containers of their food. “I love the juxtaposition,” Naia giggles, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Beautiful plates and then our food in tubberware. I love it!” But oh, there’s pulpo, escalivada, pa amb tomàquet; she was more than lucky and completely undeserving of the care that Ludwig had put into this. “Look at this, Ludwig. It’s beautiful-- thank you. Thank you, thank you-- this is wonderful.”













