Jimmy climbed up the stairs tiredly after a long day of polishing the stupid silver. Bloody silver, bloody Crawleys and their bloody guests and all that bollocks. I wonder what Thomas is doing right now... He stood frozen. He thought of Mr. Barrow as Thomas, not as Mr. Barrow. He's Mr. Barrow, not Thomas. Like he tells people 'that's Mr. Barrow to you.' He told that to one of the hall boys a few months ago... that was bloody funny, the look on that lad's face! Jimmy giggled on the dark stairway. He stopped, shook his head and kept on going. I'm losing me head!
Once inside his room, he took off his livery and hung it neatly on his wardrobe. He put on his pajamas and sat on the bed. He sighed deeply. Suddenly he felt an urge to get out of his room. He quietly walked out of his room with a candle. The hallway was dark but Jimmy turned toward a certain place in the hallway, Thomas' room. The under-butler's door became clearer the more he got closer.
Before he knew it, Jimmy was opening the door and closed it once he was inside. Mr. Barrow's room looked strangely calmed, the silence was overwhelming. It also smelled of cigarettes and after shave. That's his everyday scent. Every single piece of furniture looked in place, the little bed neatly made. Jimmy opened the wardrobe and all the suits and liveries were hanged. There was a hanger that had like ten ties of different colors. Jimmy closed the doors and turned around and walked to the dresser. On top of it, he saw a picture of a couple. His parents. The woman in the picture had a half smirk. He looks just like his mother, Jimmy thought with a smile. His father had dark hair and a beard.
Jimmy opened the first drawer and saw a few white shirts folded. No mess whatsoever. Why wouldn't there be? Mr. Barrows takes pride of his presentation and neatness, of course his things are going to be the same, you bloody twat, who is going through his things! What is wrong with you?! He stared at the shirts and took one out; he unfolded it and held it above his head to take a good look at it. Yes, it's bigger than mine. Well yes, Jimmy, that's because he's taller than you and broader and muscular and so... manly. What the fuck?! Jimmy growled in frustration and hit his head with a pile of Thomas' shirt. He took a deep breath. Hmm... that's a different scent. He closed his eyes and inhaled the shirt again. "Oh, fuck, that smells good," he breathed huskily. He went to the bed and laid face down on it, his face on the pillow. He stayed like that for a few seconds. This scent is so much better than the one he always carries. This one is... intoxicating. It's driving me wild. Before he knew it, Jimmy felt himself get hard by smelling Mr. Barrow's shirt and pillow. "Shite," he cursed. I need to get out of here.
Jimmy got up from the bed and left the room. He shut the door to his room and leaned back against the door and took several deep breaths to calm down. What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. Me?! I got hard because I smelled Mr. Barrow's shirt and pillow! But what a smell! I can't get enough of it! I love it! Come off of it, Jimmy! This is a MAN we're talking! Girls smell really good... But nothing compares to Mr. Barrow's scent! Oh bugger... Jimmy felt something in his hand. He had the shirt. Without thinking, he smelled it and exhaled happily. He got in his bed and laid down, brought the shirt to his nose, closed his eyes and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.
