Richard woke with a start "God damnit, George." His big brother had clearly fell out of bed, probably hungover, and the thud was right on top of Richard's bed. Living at their mother's London home offered many advantages such as saving on rent and time in traffic but living with his elder brother was wearing Richard's patience thin.
George was a jolly fellow, every week there was a new girl sauntering out of his room. Richard sure hoped his brother was being careful as he could not see him paying for a litter of illegitimate babies. The Yorks were a military family. Their father perished during the Falkland's conflict, luckily their mother came from money and inherited their grandfather's lands and properties. She was determined that her boys had the best education and would settle for nothing less than Winchester.
To her disappointment, George was not very interested in anything other than following in their father and was not very bright. Edward was average and trudged through to graduate from the London School of economics before starting to help run the estates and got married to Elizabeth, a widow 6 years older than him which prompted George to become her new golden boy, especially after his tours in Afghanistan. Richard was more scholarly than both his brothers and excelled in history, but he too wanted to follow George in the army.
Unfortunately, it was not to be. There was an accident during an exercise where Richard fell to protect a fellow soldier and bashed his left shoulder. Thankfully, it was not the right, but his back and shoulder were never the same and he had to drop out and go back to school. He obtained a first-class degree in history was currently reading for his masters. His dream was to be a history lecturer at the university of York.
Meanwhile, he was enjoying teaching at and hearing all about the shenanigans between classes.
Sipping his peppermint tea, he remembered about promising his mother dinner and groaned in misery. Christ, he was not looking forward to it. Sharing a meal with his mother was on par with being interviewed by the KGB. He could recite the questions before she even asked them. 'How's teaching? When are you joining the business? Are you dating? Why don't you ever bring a girl home? Are you gay? I would be more than fine with it and my hairdresser is singleā¦'
At this point he'd rather be King Richard III before Bosworth.
Believe it or not, I'm quite new to the fandom - would be nice to know whether someone's reading :)
