Again. He was in that stupid office again! You and Ludwig had been married for about a year and throughout that year; he progressively worked more and more. You never saw each other except for late at night when he would finally come out of his office to eat dinner and go straight to bed. To top it off, he was usually too exhausted to manage more than a "guten nacht*" and a sloppy kiss. You were worried for your German husband, not only was this unhealthy for him, you were beginning to feel extremely neglected as his wife. You knew he loved you and that he'd never cheat, but it felt as if he was losing interest in your marriage, or worse, you.
You were in the kitchen preparing Ludwig's favorite dish: wurst and potatoes. You planned to finally confront him about overworking tonight. You would get through to him. Youre head snapped up when you heard the turning of a doorknob. When the door opened, Ludwig came out wearing a white dress shirt, slacks, and his glasses. He would go to work in the morning, come home at about five, and work himself until eight-thirty before he came out for dinner. His once vibrant blue eyes were dull and red from staring at a computer screen and his normally impeccable blonde hair was a disheveled mess. Why did he do this? Was it really too unpleasant to spend his evening with you? You shrugged trying to put negative thoughts out of your head. He ambled over to his chair at the table and collapsed; he pulled his glasses off and rested his eyes in the heels of his palms. That was unusual. He would at least mutter a greeting to you. He sat completely vulnerable, now was your chance. You made the plates and placed them on the tables. Ludwig was so tired he didn't even notice the plate before him. You took your seat and spoke up.
"Ludwig?" He grunted in acknowledgement. "You have to stop overwork--"
"I don't overvork, _______, I just...vork hard." Now this was just plain weird, he never cut you off. What was the problem? You stood from your place at the table and walked over to the German's seat. You pulled his head from his hands and placed a hand on each side of his face, pulling his head from his hands. His eyes were half-lidded and he could barely keep himself from falling out of the chair. His blue eyes rolled lazily to meet your (e/c) ones.
"Ludwig, I need you to stop, for me, if nothing else. I'm worried about you, honey. And..." You trailed off, catching the German's attention with your kind words.
"And, vhat?" He asked with some newfound energy, surprising you. He gripped your wrists and pulled away from your touch to be less vulnerable. How did he manage to gain control of this situation? He forced you to meet his eyes. You boiled over with your emotions that you had been hiding for months now.
"You're neglecting me, Luddy!" He jumped at your confession, had he really been forgetting his wife, his love?
"The most you say to me is 'hallo, guten morgen, guten nacht, and Ich liebe dich*'. The last time we actually sat down and spoke to each other was like a month ago! You can't do that to me! I love you, and I will always stand by you, but you can't do that! If you don't want to be married to me, FINE! But, don't make me suffer through losing you." Tears pooled in your (ocean/mud/emerald etc/) (e/c) eyes. Ludwig was in complete shock, he was putting himself through Hell on Earth so that your marriage could be better, he wanted to be fully financially set so he could fulfill your dream: for him to take a year off work and travel the world with you. As hard as this would be, he was completely determined to do anything to make you happy. He didn't realize what it was doing to your relationship now, though. He regained himself before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder and taking you upstairs to your shared bedroom. He sat you on the edge and sat to your right. You were still softly crying, he quickly engulfed you in a big hug before kissing you everywhere. This took you by shock, it had been so long, so long since he bedded you. Perhaps even three or four months. You remembered that you two still needed to talk, and tried not to get too caught up. You pushed him off a bit.
"Ludwig, as good as that feels," he smirked. "We still need to talk." He nodded and grasped both your hands in his.
"________, schatzi*, I love you. Ich liebe dich, Ich liebe dich so sehr, mein schatzi*." His eyes were wide and his voice was laced with more passion than you've ever heard from him before. "I would never want to not be married to you, I'm so sorry." That was it, the three words that needed to be heard. I'm so sorry. "Do forgive me?" His blue eyes were filled with sorrow. You smiled softly and kissed hi nose.
"I love you, too, Ludwig. But, I won't forgive you," his facial expression saddened and all hope was obliterated. He pulled his hands away from yours.
"Until you tell me why you overworked and promise to never do it again." He smiled.
"I wanted to save up so ve could go on zhat world tour you've always talked about for your birthday next year," your mouth was agape. "I guess I got so caught up in zhat, I forgot about our marriage now. I vas really excited to show you Deautschland*, too. I promise, it von't happen again." He killed himself everyday for you.
"Ludwig...I forgive you completely. Just don't do it ever again, I was so worried. I appreciate the thought, but if it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, it doesn't. We call them 'dreams' for a reason." He smiled and kissed you, really kissed you for the first time a while. He pushed you back onto the bed.
"I zhink ve should catch up on ozher zhings, besides talking, _________." He smirked. Thank the Lord, finally!!!! You heard the Hallelujah chorus go off in your head.
~~Three Years Later~~
Ludwig stuck to his promise and never overworked like that again. Of course he had his moments, as always. After that overworking incident a few years back, you decided to use your degree and get a job teaching seventh grade Geography. After all, it was the least you could do to help fund the trip. It was a bright day and you and Ludwig had saved enough money to head from (native country) to your first stop on the world tour: Germany, Ludwig's native land. You were on the plane and you would be away in the world for a year. You were so excited. During takeoff, you squeezed Ludwig's hand. He looked up at you.
"Thanks, honey." He smiled and stroked your (h/c) hair.
"You're welcome, Liebe. You funded a good third, though. So thank yourself." You nodded in agreement.
"Thanks, _________. You're welcome, _______!" You leaned into the chuckling German's side, laughing with him on the beginning of your year-long journey.