I Have No Icons Sorry ! - Blog Posts

Jimmy stood in the doorway, his usual confident demeanour softened by concern as he looked at Thomas. He took a step inside, closing the door gently behind him.

"Ah, Mr. Barrow, you know me well enough. I don't need much of an excuse to avoid working," Jimmy replied with a lopsided grin. He moved closer, pulling up a chair beside the bed and sitting down, his eyes scanning Thomas's face and the still-healing bruises with genuine worry. "How are ya holding up?"

He leaned back in the chair, trying to appear casual but unable to hide the tension in his posture. "Can't imagine how boring it must be, stuck in 'ere all day. I brought you something to read, thought it might help pass the time," he said, pulling a small book from his pocket and placing it on the bedside table. He wasn't about to admit, he'd popped down to Thirsk to buy the book as he had nothing in his own room to lend to the male.

Jimmy's expression softened further as he met Thomas's eyes. "I know it's been rough, what with everything that happened… and, well, how I've been. I'm sorry, Mr. Barrow. I truly am. But I'm 'ere now, and I wanna help in any way I can. You need anything, you just let me know, alright?"

He reached out, a hesitant but warm gesture, patting Thomas's arm lightly. "And don't worry about the work. Mr. Carson won't miss me for a few minutes. Besides, Mrs Hughes said that I could come and see you."

after the events at the thirsk fair thomas was healing up well, although he had mostly been sleeping for the first few days. a week in, the smaller of his cuts had begun to heal, bruises turning from angry purple to a sickly shade of yellow. it would be another three weeks before he could fully return to work — his cracked ribs ensured that, the pain down his left side was still almost unbearable at times, the skin still tender, mottled purple bruising in the shape of a boot betraying where the thugs had kicked him.

still, for all the pain and trouble, at least thomas had gotten something out of the whole affair. jimmy kent was to be his friend again... after a year of snide remarks, cold shoulders and avoidance that hurt almost as much as the physical beating he'd recieved at the fair, each and everyone one like a punch to the heart... things were okay now, between them, things had been set right. and that had to account for something, at least.

but, right now, thomas was bored. a week of bedrest and he had seen enough of his small attic room to last a lifetime. he wanted to get up, he needed to shave, he wanted to have a proper bath, he wanted something to do. sitting up was a struggle, the metal cot groaned and creaked under the shifting of his weight, aching muscles screaming in protest as the underbutler slowly moved, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bracing himself for a moment. the pain in his ribs spiked and twisted, causing a sharp hiss to escape from between his teeth — his stomach churned and he felt sick, worried for a moment that he'd become reacquainted with his breakfast...

there was a short knock at his door before it opened, and thomas glanced up at his vistor, his friend, and couldn't help the slight smile that tugged at his lips, small and questioning.

❝ ... jimmy...? shouldn't you be workin'? ❞

plotted starter ~ jimmy kent ; @littledaydreamers