Hello!! I absolutely love your writing and was so excited to see your requests are open!! 💛 I was wondering if i could request a platonic amy march x reader (gn or fem is absolutely fine) with the prompt "i missed you so much". i was imagine maybe reader had been travelling for a while or just hadn't been spending much time with amy recently, and they both miss eachother alot and just have a fluffy reunion! though of course feel free to go whichever direction inspiration takes you!!!! (i also don't mind whether its just best friends or reader and amy are siblings, though i am very biased to the latter)
Even if you don't end up writing this, thank you so much for the things you have written because I'm absolutely in love with them!!!! and of course an extra big thank you if you do write this!!!!
— aubrey!! (@yokolesbianism/aubeystawby) 💛💛
AWWW tysm!! Literally you’re the sweetest & it warms my tiny little heart!! Of course I will write your little request, but I made it a little different. (for flavor ;0)
(not edited, so there’s some grammatical errors. sorry not sorry)
The ache of the youth spent in the twisting thorns of blackberries & dashing madly down dusty paths like deer fleeing from the maw of a greater beast is not felt until, when waking up one morning, her bones are stiff & wooden. As if, if she were to bend her elbow, she could hear a creaking sound from the rusty nail between her two joints. Ever since Amy had left for France to pursue her dream of becoming a great artist,- one who, in her triumphant cries, “would rival Renoir and Boticelli and Thomas Lawrence!”- y/n, the youngest March, has awoken to the splintering ache of an accosted youth.
To say she misses her sisters is an understatement to the highest degree. Everything is far too quiet without the constant chirping of her sisters, a never ending symphony of adolescent conundrums & complaints. Once an eternal twilight, with her sisters playing the role of singing cicadas, the morning had risen with their departure from the best. Several things, which she previously thought were silent, have now shed their fear, & the appliances remind her of her creaking bones with their squeals & whines. The only thing that ever eased her mind was Beth’s piano, a reminder that, although her sisters have grown, she still remains young & a girl.
However, one early morning, the noise of chittering like field mice in a barn snuck in from underneath her door. Like a puppet, her wooden bones acted in the same order that they always have. Planting her feet on the ground, she threw her- well, it was first Marmee’s, then Meg’s, and then Jo found it far too “girlish”, so it was lastly Amy’s- shawl, a soft blue & green woolen piece, to keep herself from freezing in the morning sun.
“Marmee! What’s with all the clamor?” Y/N shouts out as she rubs the last grains of dreams quickly forgotten, a gift from Sandman in the night. Their voice is scratchy like an itchy wool scary as they waddle toward their door. Before Marmee can even consider replying, a shrill squeal fills the house.
“Sister! How I’ve missed you!” the shriek makes the wallpaper curl into itself, & the pounding noise of, what can only be assumed to be, heavy iron weights plummeting onto their creaking wooden stairs grows closer & closer to the half-awake Y/N. Immediately recognizing that voice before she can even register the smell of fresh air streaming in from her open window or the sticky feeling of morning dew on her face, Y/N snatches the door knob & swings it open wildly with reckless abandon.
There, standing before her, in a voluminous, almost cartoonishly large crinoline skirt with tiers upon tiers of ruffles & lace-trimming in differing shades of porcelain blue & silver, her sister & part of her soul, Amy, stands before her like a statue carved from marble & opal. With a toothy grin that reminds Y/N of all the long summer days spent rolling around in the vibrant green grass by the meadow, Any doesn’t waste a second as she barrels towards Y/N & catapults her arms around her little sister, who is unsure if she’s simply still dreaming or actually awake.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you! I’ve missed you so so dearly! All I could think of was how I wished you were beside me. Oh, I’ve so much to tell you! ” Amy rambles on as she digs her face into the nest of locks that rests upon her sister’s head like a rabbit burying into fresh earthen dirt. Curling her fingers around the poofy & seemingly floating sleeves that hug Amy’s sleeves in ways Y/N didn’t know was even possible, the cool touch of the soft, buttery linen kisses her fingers like a distant memory of childhood that’s been lost to the breeze. The fabric leaves a tingling sensation that reminds her of the bells that decorate the Church during Christmas time.
As the folds of linen ripple between her fingers, it’s then she finally feels her mind recenter. The colors around her bloom like the first day of spring, & everything falls into focus. Amy is back. She is real & home & here, in her arms. Slowly, Y/N tepidly wraps her arms around her sister & presses her face into the fabric of her dress. Something hot dribbles down her cheeks, & her silent tears collapse into Amy’s dress. The rust melts off of her joints as she feels her youth soak back into her bones. Her sister, her person, is home.
“I missed you, as well, sister.”
