Hey guys! So over on my tumblr (5give-5get) I asked for some LBD prompts in my ask and said I'd write fic for them! I'm working on every single one I receive, but this is the one that I could post the fastest. Request was from an Anon.

Request: I would love to read a post-LBD angst fic. It's pretty vague but I do love some angst.

I assumed post-LBD meant after the series is over. And I took a completely AU spin with this.

This is going to be a multi-chap fic. It is angsty but I promise a happy, fluffy, Lizzie/Darcy ending. Enjoy!

.xox.

But the angles and the corners

Even though my work is unparalleled

They never seemed to meet

This structure fell about our feet

And we were free to go

"Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect" – The Decemberists

December 2013

It was snowing already, something Will had not anticipated, given the pleasant weather the past few days. No matter how much news he watched, he never seemed to believe the weatherman when he predicted large amounts of snow in the forecast, at least not until January or February. Maybe it had something to do with growing up in L.A., where he was certainly not as likely to see snowfall as he was here in New York.

Since moving to New York, Darcy had dealt with snow on a few occasions. This was going to be his first full winter in the city, though. He'd moved in February of the previous year, trying desperately to get away from everything in California, all under the mask of work.

Will crossed the street, grateful that he was almost home to his penthouse apartment. He honestly wasn't the biggest fan of snow and wanted nothing more than to relax in front of his television with either a warm drink or simply a warming one. There was a six pack in his fridge, and admittedly not much else. He was in great need of a trip to the supermarket.

Eventually, Will made it back to his apartment. The elevator ride up was gruelingly dull. A couple who lived on the eighth floor stood beside him for part of the way, holding hands the entire time and even stealing a kiss. Will hated feeling bitter about love, but he still did.

Back in his apartment, he shrugged off his coat before hanging it up in the closet and heading towards the kitchen. There wasn't any food aside from some pretzels in the cabinet, which would have to suffice for a meal. He found his bottle opener and opened up a beer before pouring some pretzels into a bowl and heading to the couch, not even bothering to change into comfier clothes, though he did kick his shoes off. William Darcy wasn't necessarily one for "comfy" clothes. A suit and tie, and often a bow tie, suited him just fine. Though he did wear bow ties less often these days.

There wasn't much on T.V., which left Darcy alone with his thoughts as he continued to flip through the channels, his eyes glued to the gigantic flat-screen in his apartment, but his mind somewhere else entirely. He hated it, but his mind always drifted back to her, to Lizzie. He wondered how she was doing. She likely had Christmas plans, and even more likely with George Wickham. He cringed at the thought.

The truth was, Darcy thought for the millionth time since he had last seen Lizzie Bennet while cracking open his next beer, he had tried to tell Lizzie about Wickham, back when things seemed so perfect and hopeful between them. Back when she'd been staying at Collins & Collins, and he'd taken her out on a few dates after that fight they'd gotten into. He'd kissed her three times, and once she had taken her shirt off, she had pulled him to her in that office and sat on that desk and she had flicked her fingers down to his belt and started to work and he had kissed her again and again and her hair had been messy and his bow tie had come off, "this infuriating thing" as she had called it, and then there had been a knock at the door and Charlotte Lu had walked in without waiting for a response and Lizzie had screamed.

But those days ended quickly. She'd asked him where their relationship was headed since she'd felt it had come on so unexpectedly. And he'd spouted out some nonsense about how awful her family was and this and that… Well, it had all come out completely the wrong way.

And now, months later, he sat in his expensive rooftop apartment with nothing but his fourth beer (a brand Lizzie had found to be pretentious, he mused with a frown) and pretzels for solace.

Darcy's cell buzzed and he picked it up to see a text from Gigi. Hope you're not throwing yourself a pity party, big bro, she had written. It's Friday night. Get out there.

Will rolled his eyes and tried to formulate a reply, but before he could he was distracted by a rumble from his stomach. "I suppose pretzels won't cut it tonight," he conceded before typing up his reply. Don't worry about me. All is well.

Darcy stood and sighed before heading towards the closet to grab his coat. There was a Chinese place a block and a half away, and though he rarely consented to such inferior food, he had to admit that on occasion he, like most everyone else, craved General Tso's Chicken. He made sure to pull on some gloves and toss a scarf around his neck before stepping into the elevator. Any hats, newsie or not, were forgotten, perhaps out of some sort of unconscious insecurity, or maybe due to the fact that he'd had four drinks in only an hour, as was not his usual habit.

Perhaps due to the snow, no one was at the restaurant, so Darcy was in an out in a heartbeat. He couldn't wait to get back to his apartment to indulge in this guilty pleasure. He rounded the corner, a smile on his face, and then all hell broke loose.

Here before him was an entirely different sort of guilty – and painful – pleasure. Lizzie Bennet, who he had not seen in over a year, stood with her arms spread wide. A snowflake fell from the sky and she caught it on her tongue, oblivious to the few other people on the street. And oblivious to Will, who stood there, mesmerized, struggling to not drop his bag of Chinese food.

She was wearing a black pea coat that he had never seen before and a red scarf. Her hands had to have been freezing, because she seemed to have forgotten her gloves. Her hair was a mess, glued to her forehead due to the precipitation.

He had to pass her to get back to his apartment, and there was no use just standing there staring. Will took a deep breath and walked on.

For a moment he thought about stopping and saying hello to her. But then he remembered that she was the last person in the world who wanted to see him after all of the awful things he had said. Not to mention the fact that her boyfriend of over a year now absolutely despised him and had probably filled her head with all sorts of nasty propaganda, the pathological liar that he was.

But he couldn't escape. Because just as he was about to walk by her, Lizzie opened her eyes, a wide grin on her face after her fun in the snow. But that grin fell the moment she saw him. He smiled politely in an attempt to end it at that, and was just at her side, ready to pass her, when she reached out an arm and stopped him. He could feel how cold her hand was even through his coat.

"Darcy?"

And that was when Will Darcy's world came crashing down yet again, all due to the same woman.

.xox.

Well, that was a shorty, but please review! I'd love to know that people are reading this and I'm eager to write more.