Steampunk story?

(No one will get this cause it's based off my still developing Steampunk story).

When they met, she had been 17, her first year in a world she was still adjusting too. He remembered walking in, the bell ringing, taking off his John Bull hat, "Is the dear doctor in?" And he remembered seeing her for the first time. A boyish looking fellow, tinkering with a pocketwatch where Doc usually sat to attend to customers.

It wasn't til later he found out she was a girl. The disdain on her part was obvious - he found him too full of smiles for her liking. Awkwardly, they forged an odd sort of friendship. Mostly full of weird conversations of mechanical humdrum or sarcastic arguing.

He didn't really notice her as anything until he'd seen her playing in the snow like a 5 year old. And how damn happy she looked doing it, her seemingly retarded logic behind her love for snow. People like this don't exist, he thought. Not in this world.

Slowly, something began to build within him. Try as he might to deny it, he was starting to really like the girl. They became constant companions - strolling down London, working in the warehouse - where there was a Willie, there was a Keith Hargrave.

Perhaps he loved her because she was nothing like the girls of this time period - honest to a fault, intelligent and not afraid to be, not falsely kind, constantly fascinated, constantly so damn happy.
And when she remembered his birthday, and given him that pin, a pin she had made for him alone, he knew he was beyond saving. He was in love. He didn't regret it this time - or so far anyways.

She was 20 now, himself 27. He didn't know if she'd ever love him the same way, or what even tomorrow may bring, with the clockworks rising in prominence. But he knew as long as she'd have him, their story would continue.