AN: The characters do not belong to me. Small drabble for a friend, ...or three. My first Corah attempt. Feedback is always appreciated! :)
And PLEASE do NOT read if you don't like the femflash idea. I am a huge Cobert shipper myself, but we improve outside our comfort zone, right?
Plus, no one needs homophobic comments. Thank you!
August 25, 1905
Get ahold of yourself already! O'Brien silently scolded herself. Heaven forfend someone saw her this agitated. No, no, we can't have that.
"Fancy a smoke?" She asked, already brushing past Thomas. It wasn't a question, really.
"Can't deny such a lovely invitation, can I?" He smirked.
She scoffed and quickly lit a cigarette, not even waiting for him.
He eyed her, obviously curious. "How are things with Lady G?"
"Same as usual." Her answer was dry and she took a long drag.
"Yes, Milady. No, Milady. Three bags full?"
"I'd like to give her three bags full. Preferably on a dark night."
"Did the bedbugs bite you or why are you so—"
But she cut him off before he could finish. "I'm nothing! Understood?"
Thomas raised his free hand in faux surrender. "Whatever you say."
"She'll be lucky if she gets another civil word out of me!" O'Brien muttered, flipping her cigarette away.
"We are all lucky if we get a civil word out of you."
She threw a warning glare his way but he continued. "And everyone knows she has you twisted around her little finger." He was way too amused by O'Brien's reaction whenever he had mentioned the Countess the past few weeks. Something must've happened.
"Don't push your luck." She warned and felt how her cheeks heated up. She had to get out of here. Away from him. "She pays me to do as I'm told, that's all."
And before Thomas could utter another word, she was gone.
Funny business that, he thought and watched her hurry inside. Time for a closer inspection.
Oh, what he wouldn't give for an ally on all levels…
Breathe in, she told herself, one hand at the doorknob. Breathe out.
Click.
"Ah, there you are, O'Brien."
"Yes, Milady. I was looking for your favorite towel." She lied and dared a quick glance. Their stares collided through the reflection of the mirror and O'Brien found herself glued to the spot.
Oh, how beautiful Her Ladyship was looking. Those oceanic hues were staring directly at Sarah and she could feel her knees weaken. It was a rare picture. Cora must have combed her hair… All curls were gone. Soft waves of dark, silky strands were framing porcelain skin, eliciting the urge inside of O'Brien to reach out and—
No!
"O'Brien…?" Lady Grantham asked for the second time already, now feeling the need to turn her torso. With a concerned frown, she looked up.
"Yes, Milady?" Frick!
"Are you quite sure everything is fine?"
"Yes, Milady. … I'll just go and run Your Ladyship's bath."
Cora sighed but did not push it. "Thank you, O'Brien." She turned back around, reached for the brush and ran it through her hair once more, humming.
Once in the bathroom, O'Brien finally respired.
I need to stop this. I really need to stop this, she thought and with 'this' she clearly meant herself- and her mind. Especially from wandering. Just… think of … ducklings! And it worked. … For a second. Because then O'Brien found her mind wandering off once more.
She actually liked the bathing hours.
She liked how the Countess put her hair up if it didn't need washing.
And she liked it how the wet hair cascaded down her Ladyship's back, if it needed washing.
She liked the tunes her mistress hummed, whenever O'Brien washed her back.
She liked the way those defined shoulder blades moved beneath soft skin. And oh, how
she liked those arms. Her Ladyship had very nice biceps muscles. Small and feminine, still, but… Probably because of liftin' up the three girls for decades, O'Brien thought. Too bad no one ever saw those arms. Or, maybe it was better that way.
And sometimes, when the Countess wasn't looking and O'Brien was pretending to fold some clothes in the bedroom, she'd glance over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of those glorious legs. Cora always did this thing where she lifted each leg up while washing them, so she could actually reach her calves. And all the while she'd point her feet. And whenever O'Brien had the chance, she dared a glance.
One time, Cora had caught her.
"I danced ballet for years when I was little." She had said out of the blue, causing for O'Brien to turn around and look at her.
"Milady..?"
"Isn't that why you are staring at my feet?"
Sarah's cheeks must've flushed at such a bold question. Caught. "I- I didn't mean to—"
"No, no. I am actually relieved that someone notices. Finally."
"I'm not sure I am following, Milady?" O'Brien had said while she had nervously clawed the shirt in her hands until her knuckles turned white.
"Oh, you see, dancers are very… particular about certain things. One of them being the feet. Have you ever noticed that, when I walk, my toes always point a little outward?"
"I actually have, Milady." O'Brien admitted, somewhat surprised.
"Ah, see. That's because of the ballet, too. I can't help it." Her melodic chuckle had made Sarah smile a little. "O'Brien…"
"O'Brien…!"
-x-
"O'Brien?!" Cora asked again and got up from her chair. "What is taking so long today? Is the bath—" Her eyes widened as she finally reached the door. "O'Brien! Mind out! You will flood the bathroom!"
Lady Grantham's sudden appearance pulled O'Brien out of her thoughts once again. But it was too late. The very second she reached for the tap, the water spilled.
Splish-Splash.
"I-I'm so very sorry, Milady! I will clean it up in a jiffy!" O'Brien said frantically and was almost on her way out when…
"No! Leave it be."
She stopped and eyed the Countess. "Are you sure, Milady?"
"Yes. You can do that later. Else you have twice the work."
"As you wish, Milady." O'Brien murmured and couldn't bear the eye-contact any longer. She averted her gaze to her shoes, noticing Her Ladyship's already naked feet.
Tap, tap, tap.
With a few steps Cora walked over to the tub, waiting for O'Brien to follow and take the robe from her naked shoulders. Once she felt those soft fingertips hardly grazing her skin, Cora sighed. "But I really wish you would tell me what is going on, my dear O'Brien."
Sarah knew that tone. Her fingers curled into the silken material and this time she actually fought the wish to lower her gaze, silently cursing Her Ladyship's soap. It all had started with that bloody soap! "Nothin', Milady. It's really nothin'."