"The secrets we keep"
Thommy.
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After Thirsk, despite their newfound friendship, Thomas is still madly infatuated. And Jimmy, because of their newfound friendship, learns things he shouldn't have. It's hard to keep things close to your heart when your heart is in your sleeve and you haven't even noticed.
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Tags:
Slow burn, gay panic, some angst, fluff, more angst.
Definitely internalized homophobia and period-typical attitudes.
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"Just. Writing down the Downton Abbey ideas because I need to get them out of my system.
I'd like my peace of mind back. Oopsies! It turned into a full-fledged fanfic!"
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That's the original direct quote from the word doc when I realized this fic had gotten way out of hand.
I wasn't originally planning to ever post this, but well, sinisterjelly was so encouraging with it and 73k words later it seems stupid not to. And then I learned of the Thommy Summer Smash 2023 on tumblr and said why the hell not. There are a couple fairs featured in this behemoth, that's on theme, right? Arc 3 takes place over spring/summer, that's on theme, right? And above all, this is at least twenty three shades of Thommy because these two have consumed my entire life since april when I first started writing this.
Fic title subject to change in the not-so-far future, though. The original doc file is still named "Downton Abbey fic idea". XD
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Couple notes before we start:
I format all my writing with spanish conventions, so dialogue uses dashes/hyphens, quotation marks are for thoughts (or dialogue, with the appropriate tag), and italics are mostly for emphasis. México doesn't know what the em dash (?) is for, we use parentheses and ellipses the way the gods intended.
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Also, I am 100% the target audience for this fic, hope y'all enjoy the ride along. XD
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April
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- That should do it for now, Mr Barrow – said Jimmy with a smile as he folded the newspaper and placed it on the chair he'd just stood up from -. I'll tell Daisy to fetch you some breakfast.
Thomas nodded gratefully and propped himself up and off the bed, he should better get dressed before Daisy came by. He paused a moment before the washbasin, the water still stinging his brow, but in a much more manageable way. To be quite honest, he still looked worse for wear, bad enough that Mr Carson wouldn't suffer him going upstairs, but he was growing restless, and needed to get back to some kind of work, any kind. "I'll polish all the silverware myself if I have to" he promised to himself, almost threatened. He did feel a lot better, however his main motivation was still Jimmy.
The lad had been just too nice for him to handle, all contrite gratefulness, reading him the papers and making sure he always had on hand whatever it was he needed during his recovery. He'd sighed in relief, alongside Daisy and Mrs Hughes, when Dr Clarkson had stopped by to confirm there were no broken ribs, and the sting on his side every time he breathed was but a mere bruise. "I would have felt terribly guilty, otherwise" Jimmy had later admitted, mortified. Thomas had made sure to reassure him.
- There's no need for that – he'd said -, what I did I did on my own free will.
- I've told you, Mr Barrow. Can't let you be nice to me, like this. I can't give you what you want.
- I have no expectations, Jimmy. Letting me be kind to you is the kindest thing you could for me. Friends look out for each other. We can be friends, right?
- 'F course – had mumbled Jimmy, with half a smile.
At the beginning it had proved somewhat difficult for the lad, learning to see Thomas' kindness without suspicion, but a couple weeks of reading and an unexpected realization that they had the same sense of humour had pulled the trick. Thomas was honest, and Jimmy was at peace. They could be friends, of course.
Thomas sighed, and rubbed the towel carefully on his face, not yet fully healed from cuts and bruises. He was still, of course, madly infatuated with Jimmy, but he was also resigned. Having him as a friend was heaps better than not having him at all.
Minutes later, Daisy found him all dressed up, struggling a bit to lace his shoes.
- What's this mean? – she asked, surprised. She laid down the breakfast tray on the table by the door - You're supposed t'be resting, Thomas.
- Oh, I'm done with resting. It's been two weeks.
- Mr Carson won't like that – she smiled -. You need help with that? – she added as she noted the struggle of Thomas with his shoelace.
For a moment, Thomas looked offended, but as the pain shot through his torso from the bruise on his side he had to relent.
- Bending is proving rather difficult still.
- 'S that a yes?
Mortified, Thomas nodded. With a smile, Daisy kneeled beside him and tied his laces.
- You're making me feel like I have my own valet – he teased. Daisy blushed.
- Don't go 'round saying that, or Mr Carson will sack us both! There – she got up -. D'you want me to bring down the tray?
- I'll eat in the servants' hall, yes.
- You'll be in for a treat, then. Everyone'll be happy to see you.
"That would be a first" thought Thomas.
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- My, my, Thomas, what a surprise! – exclaimed Mrs Hughes as he walked through the door.
- What's the meaning of this? – shot up Mr Carson.
- Oh, I thought Daisy had let you know I'd be coming down.
- Well, we imagined so when she brought down the tray, but nobody thought it would actually happen – said Mrs Hughes.
- Well, here I am. Morning, everyone.
To Thomas's surprise, there were several responses.
- I'm afraid I cannot tolerate this – insisted Mr Carson -. You may have cleaned up but you still cannot show upstairs in such a manner.
- I'll help down here. Might spare the footmen some work.
- Well, in that case, we're all joyous to have you here, Mr Barrow – joked Jimmy, nudging Alfred with his elbow. The redhead lad chuckled.
- Don't go 'round making promises, Mr Barrow. We might take you up on your word.
Across the table, Mr Bates kept a laughter to himself. Thomas shot him a glare, expecting a retort of some sort, but the man said nothing and kept to his newspaper. He even offered it to Thomas once he sat down. Anna looked at the interaction with a huge smile. They'd been civil for a year, truly, but sometimes Thomas still expected them both to go back to old habits.
Then O'Brien walked through the door, and the mood changed.
- Mr Carson, her Ladyship was wondering if you could hurry the gong. It seems everyone is quite anxious to get to the hospital.
- Of course, of course. To your places, everyone! – the butler commanded as he stood up.
Anna put down her embroidery (a gift for Lady Mary and the baby), and amicably pressed her hand to Thomas' shoulder as she left.
Once alone in the servants' hall, Thomas called for Daisy.
- What are they going to the hospital for?
- Oh, Mr Crawley's just anxious to see the young man. I think they got news from him – added Mrs Patmore when Daisy knew not what to say.
Of course, the driver that had crashed against Mr Crawley's car last week. Thomas had heard of the commotion but he had been unable to witness; it was Jimmy who kindly filled him in.
Mr Crawley had stormed through the front door pale as marble, crying for help. There was blood on his face and hands, and near everyone thought it was a matter with Lady Mary or the child. The Dowager Countess and her Ladyship had been on the verge of tears to the sight of him.
But it was none of the sort, Matthew had had an unfortunate accident on the road, barely twenty minutes from the Abbey, and if he was in a bad shape, the other poor man had it worse.
- Call Dr Clarkson at once! Tom, please, if you'd be so kind to drive me and the footmen back. We need to move the cars.
- Matthew, darling, you barely look fit to stand, you must lie down! – had added her Ladyship.
- I'll take the servants down myself – his Lordship had quickly interfered, springing into action, calling for Mr Carson.
- I'll come with – had said Mr Branson -. Edith?
- We can take both cars. I'll pick up the doctor.
Ultimately, they all had managed to clear the road for other vehicles to come through, and Dr Clarkson had immediately hurried the other driver to the hospital, a poor farmer carrying his trade. Lady Violet had been right when she'd exclaimed "This house cannot have a minute of peace!"
But in the end it all worked out fine. Mr Crawley was fine, the Lady Mary and the child were fine, and the other driver, well, that remained to be seen.
- It seems I've missed quite the busy week – said Thomas, taking a sip from his coffee.
- That you have – agreed Mrs Patmore.
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That day, at luncheon, Mr Crawley had quite the appetite. Jimmy had to serve him thrice, much to Mr Carson's chagrin. "Would you be so kind as to leave some room for dessert?" he'd mumbled to Jimmy through gritted teeth. The footman just glared at him, what was he supposed to do? Tell Mr Crawley what to eat?
- Matthew, you must be so relieved – said Lady Edith.
- I feel like I can enjoy life again!
- And you have so much to enjoy – conceded Lady Grantham with a smile.
- It is a relief to know that young man will be fine – agreed Lord Grantham.
Jimmy and Alfred exchanged looks, taking note for the gossip downstairs as it went from the accident, to Lady Mary and a discussion of names for the little heir.
Downton was finally going back to normal.
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Or at least it was desperately trying to.
The next week, at dinner, her Ladyship was distressed.
- O'Brien is handing in her notice! – she said.
Mr Carson's eyes shot wide.
- Beg your pardon, my Lady? She's said none of that to me!
- She wanted me to be the first to know – Lady Grantham clarified -. Ms O'Brien, leaving! I shall have trouble forgiving Susan for this.
- What's she got to do with this? – asked Lady Mary, who was finally joining the family at the table. She grabbed some venison from the tray Jimmy offered her.
- O'Brien is leaving to go with her.
- To India? – Lord Grantham was surprised.
- So it seems. How will I ever manage without her?
Jimmy was done with his serving, and he looked at Alfred struggling to complete his.
- Did y'know about this? – he whispered. Alfred shook his head in negation, distressed.
Jimmy took a quick glance at Mr Carson, hoping he would take kindly to Alfred's stupor seeing how he was in no better shape himself.
- She's promised to stay until we find a suitable replacement, of course, so long as Shrimpie and Susan remain in Scotland.
- You could just refuse her if it bothers you so – said Lady Mary.
- Refuse her what? A reference? – wondered Lady Edith.
- Oh, no – Lady Grantham softly shook her head -. It would be unkind to hold her hostage if she wants to see the world.
- She'll get to see the world, alright – said Lord Grantham, taking a sip of wine.
- I guess we should run some advertisements, then – said Lady Edith -. I'll talk to Mr Gregson about it.
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That evening Alfred skipped dinner, much to the surprise of those who were yet not in the know. O'Brien just sat in her spot, drinking her tea with the cool and calculated mannerisms of treachery.
Oh, what a wretched woman, Jimmy thought. He was probably not the only one, seeing how half the table was tense, uncomfortable silence, while the other half was normal, albeit low small talk.
- I'm afraid I'm out of appetite, too – Jimmy said as he stood up -. Goodnight, everyone.
He left the servants' hall without bothering a look back. Soon enough, he was knocking on Alfred's door and sitting across him.
- You alright?
- She hasn't even talked t'me – said Alfred -. Have I done something wrong? That she wouldn't tell me such a thing?
- Don't think it's got much to do with you. O'Brien can be a right b- - -
Alfred looked up at Jimmy, scandalized. Jimmy gulped.
- I mean. Y'know what it is. I don't think anyone likes her. They like you, though – he quickly interjected.
- Mate, you ain't making me feel any better.
- Maybe it's for the better if she leaves.
- Jimmy, really? You never done this before? Consoling a friend?
Jimmy stammered.
- Well. I don't think I've had friends before, I'm out of practice.
- So you do think me a friend? Pals? For real? – Alfred's face had lit up, goofy smile on his face.
- Well, not if you make such a big deal out of it! – Jimmy faked disgust, and shoved Alfred's arm -. We got along this past year, is all.
- That does make me feel better, somewhat.
- Anytime, mate – Jimmy took the credit anyway.
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When O'Brien finally left Downton, a couple weeks later, Alfred watched her go. "You're a man grown – she'd said to him -. It is time you look after yourself, and I after me. We'll still write, of course. I'm leaving you a proper footman. It's up to you to become a valet, now. Maybe even a butler". Her words had done nothing to soothe Alfred's confusion. So now there he stood, out the door, watching the horizon where his aunt had vanished into.
- I don't think even she knows what she's after – Thomas' voice surprised the chap. Alfred turned around and found him smoking.
- What was that?
- The woman had no trouble turning my life around in hopes of you taking my place, and now she's left you to fend for yourself. Maybe it's for the best, maybe we're all best left to our own devices.
Alfred was speechless. Uncomfortable, he shifted from one foot to the other. He tried to glare back, but felt mostly confused. After a pause, Thomas simply sighed, irritated, but somehow kind.
- Don't let me make your day worse – he said -. It's been a long year since.
Thomas walked inside, and Alfred was left wondering if maybe that was the nicest thing Mr Barrow had ever told him.
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O'Brien continued to be a topic of conversation for days following her departure, for the subject of her replacement was yet to be resolved, and the task of attending Lady Grantham had, as is only natural, temporarily fallen onto Anna.
It was soon to be solved, however, for the Lady Violet had, as she was so prone to, taken the matter in her own hands as soon as she heard of it.
- Oh, Cora, dear. You'll be happy to know I have found the perfect maid for you – said the Lady Violet once in the drawing room.
- Oh, well, we have yet to read all the letters for the advertisement.
- No need for that, dear. I've taken care of it.
- You have? – Cora smiled and side-eyed her daughters.
- Do tell us of your plot, then, Granny, I beg you – said Mary.
- Well, do you remember my friend, the Duchess?
- Oh, Granny, I hear she recently passed? – said Edith.
- Well, yes. Poor Delia, really sad news, it was. But I did receive a letter from her before the fact. She had a maid, you know, skillful woman, Delia was very fond of her. I was hoping you would take her.
- She's not staying with the Duke? – wondered Mary.
- Oh, no, I'm afraid the Duke doesn't like her. Delia was sure she would be sacked as soon as she was buried, and asked me to take care of her.
- Well, Granny, we are now intrigued.
- Is there… anything wrong with her? – inquired Cora.
- Well, nothing wrong, exactly. Delia promised she is perfectly capable. She's even a musician! Entertained her on the piano whenever she liked.
- What's the problem, then? Why would the Duke not like her? – said Edith.
- Well, she, and you know how strongly I feel about this, but I did promise dear Delia… She is not english.
- Well, we've had an irish chauffeur, I'm sure we can manage that – smiled Cora.
Lady Violet, still, looked mortified.
- She did serve in a large house. In the largest of houses, I might say.
- Granny, please, the suspense is killing us – urged Mary.
- She was a maid of the embassy, before the war. And of the imperial palace, before that. You know, when there was still an empire.
- Oh – understood Cora.
Lady Violet smiled apologetically.
- She's been here for many years, though.
- She came as a refugee? – asked Edith.
- Rose high for a refugee – muttered Mary as she drank from her cup.
In that moment Lord Grantham came towards them.
- What's all this commotion?
- Darling, mamma was just proposing a candidate to take O'Brien's place.
- Oh, that should be good news!
- Not exactly when the candidate in question is most likely austrian… or german – added Mary.
- Not german, no – specified Lady Violet, scandalized -. She came here before the war, worked for the austro-hungarian ambassador before he left the country, of course… I did scold Delia when she took her in. But it was the war, we all were making do. And now she's made it her last wish that I make sure this woman finds proper work.
- Well, why don't you take her in, mamma?
- Oh, but I have no need for a maid, Robert. Cora here does.
- Oh, mamma, but surely-
- Would you have me break my word, Robert? The most valuable thing I have?
Robert rolled his eyes.
- Take her in for a month, maybe two, is all I'm asking. If you give her a good reference I will have kept my word, and then she can be somebody else's problem.
Defeated, the Granthams smiled.
- She can be on trial for a month – agreed Cora.
- Carson will not like that – said Mary.
- But Carson will listen to your father.
- And your father will hopefully listen to me – added Lady Violet.
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The servants' hall went quiet as a tomb the second the door was knocked on.
- You think that's her? – asked Ivy, almost spilling the tea she was serving as she tried to get a look at the hallway.
- Mind yourself, please! – complained Thomas.
Jimmy couldn't help but chuckle a bit. Thomas glared at him, his face turning the slightest shade of pink.
- Shh! – insisted Mrs Patmore, of all people.
Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes were welcoming a lady into the house. She must have been O'Brien's age, maybe a tad younger. She was as plain as they come, though, and nothing about her seemed to match the horde of gossip and expectations that had preceded her arrival.
As soon as Mr Carson headed for the servants' hall, everyone quickly pretended to either talk, eat or have very interesting fingernails.
- Well, everyone, this is Ms Elise. She'll be joining us from now on as her Ladyship's maid – Carson was clearly not happy to say the words, but he said them anyways.
The woman had brown, almond-shaped eyes that would look more appropriate on the face of a terrified deer during the hunt.
- Welcome to Downton, Ms Elise – bid Anna, ever the conciliator.
- We were just about to eat – prompted Mrs Hughes, gesturing towards the table.
Ms Elise smiled shyly and replied in a voice so soft that most everyone struggled to hear.
- Thank you, but I had a meal on the train. I wish not to interrupt your routine.
The rejection astonished everyone in the room, but Mrs Hughes was quick to regain composure.
- Well, in that case I'll show you to your room. And on the evening Anna can show you how to tend to her Ladyship.
- That I will, Mrs Hughes – Anna confirmed with a smile.
Ms Elise bowed her head before leaving the room, walking backwards a couple steps then scurrying away nervously.
The servants' hall went quiet again.
- I thought she'd be older – said Daisy, walking in from the kitchen.
- Well, I thought she'd be so much younger. One would think someone working a palace would have some grace, or beauty, or something.
- And I suppose you're the best judge of that, Ivy? – said Thomas with a venomous, flat smile.
The girl blushed hard and all but ran back to the kitchen. Alfred glared at Thomas, who merely shrugged and bit on a piece of toast.
- She deserved that – conceded Jimmy in a whisper.
- Well, whatever you may think of her, his Lordship made a choice and it is not our place to question it – said Mr Carson as he sat down.
- Would that we could – mumbled Thomas, and for once, Mr Carson didn't reprimand his attitude, because deep down he wholly agreed.
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The first two weeks of Ms Elise's being in Downton yielded mixed results. She seemed to fit well enough upstairs, where her foreign origin must have seen less jarring, perhaps even interesting. Downstairs, not so much.
- She's kind of unnerving, innit? – said Alfred to Jimmy.
- Who?
- Ms Elise. I don't think I've heard her say a word since first she came.
- Who would she say words to, Alfred, when nobody talks to her in this house? – interrupted Thomas, bitter -. You better take those upstairs. Or would you have his Lordship eat a cold soup?
Alfred gulped and Jimmy groaned, and they both headed upstairs.
He was right, though. Ms Elise didn't talk much. She ate alone and in a hurry after most everyone was done, she sat to mend and clean before everyone arrived. She was so quiet, it was easy to forget she was there most of the time. Maybe that's the way she wanted it. Or maybe not.
Thomas stood by the doorway, looking at her, laborious in her mending of a jacket of her Ladyship's.
The one time he'd heard her, she had asked if anyone would be bothered should she play the piano, to practice. Everyone had been so stunned to hear her talk that nobody thought to reply, and the silence seemed to intimidate her to the point of leaving in a heartbeat.
- I think William would've liked her – whispered Daisy next to Thomas.
He followed her to the kitchen to avoid Ms Elise's ear.
- What makes you think so?
- William liked most everyone, he did, and, well, I think they'd've played the piano together.
- I haven't even heard her play. She wouldn't be the first maid to lie on her applications.
- No, no, she does play. That I can tell you.
- You've heard her?
- I've seen 'er, I have. The times I've stayed up late, sometimes she sits at the piano and moves her fingers on the lid. She hums.
- You make her sound rather pathetic.
- Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to – Daisy lowered her voice a little -. She just looks lonely. Bet she is. I haven't seen a sadder face since last year when you… – her voice trailed off -. Sorry, Thomas. I was daft, didn't mean to.
Thomas looked away and took a step back, trying not to appear as bothered as he really felt.
- So you've finally caught up to that? – he couldn't stop his voice from sounding bitter.
- No one's told me, if that's what you're thinking. I just… I've been listening, and looking, and I think I understand some now.
His face went grim.
- Maybe make more tea and less conclusions. We'll all be better for it.
- Thomas, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to- - -
He walked out of the room and into the servants' hall, to Ms Elise's surprise.
- May I… may I help you, Mr Barrow? – she said in that soft, near inaudible voice of hers.
- Actually, I was hoping to help you.
He went to the piano and pulled up the lid, filled with a strange sense of compassion. People were being so nice to him lately, that he couldn't help but wonder if it was because all the nastiness was being directed at the foreign woman. Everyone was civil, of course, but it was impossible to ignore that they treated her… different. Like he himself had been treated the year prior. "If anything, we outcasts should be cordial to each other" he thought.
- So, tell me, Ms Elise. What can you play?
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Mr Carson and the footmen weren't even halfway down the stairs when they heard the music. It was a wonderful, lively sonata. Jimmy paused, recognizing the melody.
- You've gotta be taking the piss on me – he said, half joking, half upset.
Mr Carson admonished him for his language, of course, but not for too long as he finally reached the end of the stairs.
They walked into the servants' hall to see Ms Elise sitting on the piano, with Thomas and Daisy standing to each side. Even Ivy and Mrs Patmore stood by the kitchen door, watching in awe and big smiles respectively. The melody ended with a flourish, and Daisy clapped.
- 'Twas beautiful, Ms Elise!
- It was – said Mr Carson. Ms Elise practically jumped off the seat.
- Dinner's over – she whispered -, I shall go to her Ladyship at once.
And with that she scurried away and upstairs, leaving the room in an awkward mood that the kitchen personnel quickly fled.
Thomas scoffed and was about to close the piano, when he noticed Jimmy.
- Want to take over? – he asked. Jimmy looked offended that he would even ask.
- After that? No, thanks. I'd rather spare myself the humiliation.
Jimmy himself stepped up to close the lid, and once he was standing right next to Thomas, he asked.
- Was that you, Mr Barrow? – it'd been a year of awkwardness and two months of friendship, but still Jimmy would not call Thomas by his name. Maybe he didn't want to give him any wrong ideas -. You took little Ms Mouse out of her shell?
- Don't call her that – Thomas snapped back.
Jimmy retreated, surprised. Of course that's what they were calling her behind her back, quiet and plain as she was, quick to leave rooms as soon as anyone stepped in them. She acted more a kitchen maid than a Lady's maid. Of course everyone called her that. Thomas bet the nickname had probably been Ivy's idea.
- S-sorry, Mr Barrow – nodded Jimmy -. Won't do it again.
Thomas half-smiled and went to sit on his usual place.
- Hope dinner won't take much longer – he added.
- After this commotion it shall be a lively one – said Mr Carson.
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A couple hours later, Ms Elise looked into the room, surprised to find so many people still there.
- I thought you'd be all gone, I'll come and dine later- - -
- Nonsense, Ms Elise, be welcome – said Mrs Hughes -. You've been the talk of the town all night long. Please, come sit with us.
Anna and Bates had already gone home, so that left Thomas, Mrs Hughes, Alfred, Jimmy and the kitchen staff. Mr Carson was already in his office, much to everyone's relief.
Shy as only she, Ms Elise sat down next to Thomas.
- Daisy! – called Thomas - Would you mind some more tea?
- Not at all! Evening, Ms Elise!
She nodded, ever quiet, but smiling.
- Been meaning to ask you, Ms Elise – said Daisy as she poured -. What's that one called? The first song you played today?
- It's not a "song", Daisy – butt in Jimmy, patronizing and clearly irritated -. Songs have lyrics. On the piano you call it a piece. Or a melody.
Daisy was taken aback by Jimmy's rudeness, earning him a glare from Thomas.
- It was some Chopin, is all – said Ms Elise -. It's called a nocturne.
- I think that might be me favourite music I've ever heard in me whole life – Daisy smiled. Ms Elise's eyes turned somewhat glassy, and she smiled too.
Thomas couldn't help feeling pleased, seeing the newcomer finally be accepted as a result of his actions. Of course, out of everyone in the staff, he should have expected Daisy to be the first one to break the ice. Or Anna. Certainly not himself, though. He was still surprised at that.
- Perhaps you could… play it again, Ms Elise? – invited Mrs Hughes.
Jimmy scoffed, indignant, but his bitter reaction was luckily hid by Daisy's excited squeal. Alfred rolled his eyes at him, and he too encouraged Ms Elise to sit on the piano. So she did.
- Mrs Patmore! Come! She's playing again! – called Daisy, excited.
And Mrs Patmore did show up, after reminding the kitchen maids that it wasn't them Daisy was calling for.
Ms Elise put her hands on the piano, turned to her audience with a smile. And then she turned to Thomas, mouthing a "thank you" before playing.
Jimmy noticed that, and he couldn't help feeling queasy about it.
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Going upstairs later that night, Jimmy was grumbling to no end, complaining about Ms Elise, and the hypocrisy of everyone around her.
- I'm telling you, everyone was treating her like she'd fallen with the flu and now they all want to rub shoulders.
- Why does it upset you so much? – wondered Alfred.
- 'Cause she plays better than me, that is! – Jimmy yelled, feeling like a petulant child. It was embarrassing, really - So much better. I couldn't even dream of playing half a piece like that.
Alfred stifled a laughter.
- That it? You're jealous we'll ask her to play over you?
He couldn't hold his laugh no longer.
- What's so funny? – Jimmy pouted, eyes narrowing in indignation.
- You're being ridiculous, mate, is what.
Now Jimmy was getting angry. The bratty, immature kind. He crossed his arms, his cheeks flushed. Then he noticed Mr Barrow coming in after them.
- Mr Barrow – he adjusted himself. Mr Barrow was eyeing him incredulously.
- I'll always prefer your playing, if that's what you're worried about.
Jimmy froze on the spot, uncrossing his arms, a semblance of outrage bubbling inside him. What kind of comment was that? Was Mr Barrow being weird again? But Alfred kept laughing in his face and he didn't react to Mr Barrow's words, which mollified him a bit. "Maybe he didn't mean it like that". Still, indignant, he turned around and locked himself in his room, leaving Mr Barrow and Alfred alone in the corridor.
Once Alfred's laughing fit died down, he addressed Mr Barrow.
- 'Twas nice of you, Mr Barrow. Encouraging Ms Elise like that. Daisy had the right of it, she did, of her looking terribly lonely.
- Well, I know what that's like. Good night.
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I'd forgotten how frustrating the super limited formatting options in ffnet were. *sighhhhh*
Kinda wild coming back to this after 103 pages. Can you tell I haven't watched seasons 4 and 5? (and I refuse!) I'm running with all the fun text and subtext from season 3.
So that's chapter 1. Expect chapter 2 by friday.
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And leave a review! If you've already been here for five minutes reading, take the extra five seconds for a comment, please. I LIVE for the feedback because I'm an insecure attention hoe (and proud).