Chapter Three

A while longer and people were getting ready to vacate and load up the supplies out of Downton. I can't say I was too surprised to see them pushing us all out, and I don't blame them either. I was surprised they would allow a bunch of strange men in their home to start with. I wouldn't do so if I had a home as grand, especially when a lot of the men there weren't quite the noble soldiers as they were expected to be. But still, I was sad to hear the decision.

Though of course I would've been going soon anyway. My arms were perfectly fine now, and the only help they seemed to think I needed was mental, though I disagreed. I was feeling pretty good considering the circumstances, even though I knew I would never again walk. Or feel the grass beneath my feet. Sighing, I pulled myself into the wheelchair. Now that I had to rely on my arms for everything, I suppose they ought to be getting quite strong soon enough and I won't have to struggle to lift myself all the time.

One of the nurses saw my difficulty getting in and offered to push me, but I declined. I had already gotten there, and pushing wasn't the hardest part. Carefully maneuvering around the beds of men still unable to move freely, I wheeled out of the room and into a hallway. I'd been through here so many times I was sure I could manage getting out myself. I just needed a bit of fresh air. Besides, I needed to get used to getting myself places.

Of course I ended up somewhere I'd never seen before. Sometimes it was hard to remember just how big the abbey was when you were only in three of its rooms your entire stay. Awkwardly, I tried to find my way back out of the strange corridor, but was unable to turn around properly. I was afraid to go any farther for fear I might trespass on private rooms, but I could find no other solution.

Then there were footsteps coming up the hall and my heart leapt into my throat. What now? My head screamed in worry. What if I got caught in a place I wasn't supposed to be?

But thank the heavens for my luck, it was Thomas. I sighed, letting all the terror seep from me. "Thank the Lord it's you, friend. I was worried I would be caught."

Thomas lifted his brow. "And what exactly are you doing here anyway?" he tried to look as if I was in trouble, but I saw through him like glass.

I contemplated coming up with a cunning story to make me sound grand, but I decided against it. "I'm lost. And stuck."

At that, he laughed out loud, which was a rare thing and a beauty to behold. After calming himself, he took a few steps closer. "Do you need help?" he said through still lessening chuckles.

I huffed. "Well if you're going to act like that..."

"You'll what? Stay there?"

Frowning, I nodded. Atta boy, Charlie, stand your ground. Even though you're not standing. Great. Finally, I gave in and shifted angrily at being beaten. "Fine. Will you please help me, Tommy my boy?" I tried to use the name offensively, but it ended up sounding like an affectionate pet name. Come to think of it, everything I used to address him sounded like that. Damn.

He chuckled again, stepping forward. "Alright." Then he seemed to grasp WHY I was actually stuck. There was no room to maneuver whatsoever. How I'd ended up getting lodged in such a tight corridor, we'll never know.

He looked at me in disbelief, not able to understand. "I know, I don't understand either," I grumbled.

Assessing the situation, he tried to squeeze around the wheelchair, but was unable to. He pushed backwards, but the wheels were lodged into the walls on either side. He took a step back and looked me over, thinking. Then he noticed something about the wheels. "They're angled," he said. For convenience, I thought. Great. I just LOVE convenience.

Then he took a few steps back. Unable to believe my eyes, he was running towards me. I closed my eyes and prayed to God not to be hit. But then I heard a thump and a slide. I followed the sound, turning around to see him lying on his back behind me. "How the hell...?"

He shrugged. "I was always a good jumper." Then he pushed my wheelchair forward with all his strength. It inched, and then sped forward, flying us both at the wall opposite. I crashed into it, my body being flung forward at the impact, and his head hitting mine with a loud thud. Groaning, I rubbed the back of my head where he'd hit it and looked around to see him doing the same to his forehead. "Sorry," he grumbled.

"It's quite alright. I'm just glad I'm not stuck anymore," I laughed.

He chuckled too. He seemed quite out of breath and sat down next to me. Why he would just plop down on the ground to sit with me, I had no idea. That's when he grabbed my hand again, and I gasped at the contact. I hadn't expected the familiar jolt to be quite so strong. Looking down at him, I found his eyes were locked onto mine. I was at a loss for words. Then I realized it was not just him who had taken my hand, but I had grabbed his with equal strength. What was happening to me?

"Thomas - "

"Yes?" he cut me off eagerly. Did he feel it too? Was I the only one who thought it all wrong? Did he realize that we were being sinful just by holding hands with these thoughts? Did he understand?

I let go, but he held on, sitting up and looking me straight on. He grasped tighter until I was unable to just let my hand be limp, and I held back on. His mouth quirked at that in the most adorable way I had ever seen. I struggled to find my voice, but was able to ground out, "I'll be leaving soon."

His eyes shown sadness and I couldn't help but feel the same. I looked down, unable to keep the gaze. It was quiet for the longest time while I kept my eyes closed. Then I felt a soft breath on my face and I opened my eyes to see his lips cover mine.

I was shocked at first, wanting to push him away. But my heart ached at the thought, and I soon closed my eyes to enjoy the feeling. I had never thought a man's lips could feel quite as soft and giving as his did against mine. I pushed back slightly, and he reciprocated by wrapping his free hand around my neck, digging into the back of my hair. I couldn't help it; a soft, almost silent moan snuck its way up my throat. I wrapped my hands around him, not caring anymore and getting lost in the feeling of him.

Soon, though, I had to pull away from him. I gasped for breath and looked into his eyes, seeing him just as lost in it as I was. I pulled away even further, clearing my throat. I looked over to see him, confused. I smiled reassuringly at him. "We must get back to the beds," I said, then found the flaw in that statement. "I-I meant, where the soldiers are. The hospital rooms. You know," I mumbled, ashamed as he chuckled.

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