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Mizayo
The Embodiment of Geekiness
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#1
Old 05-05-2013, 09:09 PM

Chapter One

Through the fields of grass and the wind blowing softly against the trees, I remember the feel of the small green shards against my feet. The blades would softly tingle through my toes, allowing me to walk across them in comfort. They blocked me from the harsh roughness of the pebbles and clunky dirt. They were like a natural blanket, lain over the earth.

My hearts breaks as I am reminded that I will never again remember that lovely feeling of comfort. To be held softly by something so small, and so insignificant. A solitary tear runs down my face and I suddenly hate myself. Of course it wasn't my fault; there was no way I could've prevented that explosion. But maybe I could've been farther away - maybe I could've run faster, or ducked quicker.

But no. My legs would never work again. And it wasn't as if I was alone in my plight. I knew several soldiers lucky enough to get away with paralyzation like me. I've heard even the heir of Downton was paralyzed. It just reminded me that we were all together in this mess. No one got away without some sort of damage, physical or not. I wiped the tear off my face.

Then I heard footsteps come up behind me on the small trail. The sound of his feet crunched loudly, but not harshly as he approached. I knew who it was - he was a regular visitor. Such a nice man, he was. He took care of all the soldiers and didn't ask for much in return. Apparently he had been in the front lines himself, so he knew what terror was up there. For that, I'm sure every one of us were extremely grateful. It was hard to find people who understood.

"Hello, Mr. Barrow. Time for me to return, I take it?" I mumbled, sad to have to leave the serene meadow of never-ending fields of grass and memories. This was the only place I was allowed to think. The abbey was nice, of course, but it was just so crowded and... wealthy. Growing up on a farm, I never really did like places like that. So being able to escape from such chaos was nice sometimes.

"Not just yet, Mr. O'Neil. I came out here to see how you were doing is all," says the medic. He walks closer to stand next to me, looking out over the fields as I was just a moment ago. I took a deep breath and allowed the warm, fresh air to fill my lungs once more before turning to the man next to me.

He still looked as if enjoying the view, but I wasn't too keen in staying out here with company. I came out here for the solitude, not to chat. But he was a nice enough chap to talk to, so I let him stay for a moment before speaking up. "It's quite alright, Mr. Barrow. I'm ready to go in."

He nodded curtly, taking his eyes off the horizon and getting ahold of my wheelchair. Of course I would be able to wheel it myself in a couple weeks, but of course I had broken my arm as well as my legs in the blast, and had to wear a cast for a while longer. But it was no concern of mine, as I was absolutely assured I would at least get control of me arm back. Of course nothing could be done for my legs, but we are all given small mercies, and mine was my arm.

I looked around, not being able to do much else for the time being anyways. That's when I saw a glimpse of Mr. Barrow's hand again. I'd seen it before, but I had never thought of mentioning it, as it seemed almost disrespectful. But even still, the question gnawed at me the more I got to know the man. We were surely friends by now, so maybe asking wasn't such a rude things to do. Clearing my throat, I tried and failed to look up at him as I said, "Mr. Barrow, may I ask you a question?"

There was barely any pause at all when he said happily, "I don't see why not."

"Well, it's not that big of a deal anyway, but I was just wondering whatever had happened to your hand?" I asked as politely as I was able.

He seemed to freeze up a moment, but was quick to continue walking. If I hadn't been paying much attention, I probably wouldn't have even noticed. Apparently the subject was more touchy than I thought. He hesitated before saying, "Just a war wound is all. Shot right through it. Healed up an' all, but it's not such a pretty sight to see. Being a footman requires a lot of work with your hands, so I thought it'd be best to cover it up and not risk anyone getting put off."

I was shocked at first, but after a moment's thought, I understood. He didn't want people to treat him differently than before. But still, I found it strange that that would be the only reason he'd cover it up. "Surely it can't be that bad, sir. Everybody has scars."

He paused again. "It's a bit bigger than a scar. But thank you for the sentiment anyway," he said quietly, sounding almost ashamed. I felt as if maybe he wasn't telling me the full truth, but I thought it better not to push the subject.

It was a long walk back up to the abbey though, and the silence got quite awkward for a while. Finally Mr. Barrow spoke up again, trying to dispel the quiet. "So how are your own injuries healing up, Mr. O'Neil?"

I smiled, though I don't know exactly why. Maybe it was the medications the nurses had given me to dull the pain, but for some reason lately I had been feeling a lot more open with my feelings. I didn't really mind much though, since I was never a very stoic man to begin with. After thinking of what to say though, I just shrugged and shifted slightly. "Not much of an update, really. Arm's getting better - I might get the cast off in a week of so they say, though it'll still be a bit achy for a while." I paused, my heart heaving again. "They haven't changed anything with my legs. Still crippled for life," I tried to joke, but it didn't help much.

"I see," he said with a sigh. I knew he couldn't understand what it felt like, but I was grateful for him not trying to talk of it more. I wasn't quite ready to deal with the situation head-on.

Finally, we arrived back at the abbey and he was kind enough to push me all the way back into the room I was staying in. I'd forgotten which bed was mine, so I just pointed to the general direction and he helped me into an empty one. It was fairly late, but I wasn't tired at all so I asked him to let me stay up for a while longer. He agreed, but we both decided to be asleep in at least an hour.
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The Embodiment of Geekiness
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#2
Old 05-09-2013, 12:39 AM

WARNING - Here begins the M/M. I won't be posting anything too vigorous, but there is a romance developing that is solely between two males. If that doesn't suit your fancy, you're free to leave. If it does, by all means, continue! :)

Chapter Two

Weeks go by, and I am finally able to move my arm again. It still hurts to do so, but I stubborn as I am, I will myself to keep moving it to get the feeling back and quicken the healing. Still my legs are a lost cause, and I am forced with the prospect of leaving Downton Abbey. Although I had originally thought it too big and crowded, I had come accustomed to the attentive care and company of Nurse Crawly and Mr. Barrow. Although I their patient, we had become quite close friends and I would be sad to leave them.

Of course, I would be happy to return home, but I don't think I would be able to face my father with my legs in such a state. I would never be able to work the farm again. We might even have to sell it, for we had no money to hire workers and I'd do no good inheriting it. Though hope as I will, I seriously doubt the good doctor would allow me to stay for longer than I needed, and they could no longer do much for me anyhow. It was time to leave and allow room for more wounded.

But luck struck me as Nurse Cawley came running into our room, holding a small parchment and a wide grin spread across her face. "The war is over!" she shouted, and the men who had the ability shouted in excitement, some jumping up with injured arms or faces, and others with injuries like mine simply threw their arms in the air. It was chaos, but a happy one full of relief and granted wishes. It was quite an exciting morning to say the least.

Later in the day, Mr. Barrow came running in with a big smile; a genuine smile. He came straight to my bed and sat in the chair next to it, reserved just for him. "Did you hear? Of course you have," he said in a rushed tone, breathing quickly as if he'd just ran five miles.

I grinned back up at him, happier than I'd even been before. I pulled myself into a sitting position on the bed, my arms dragging the rest of me up. Then I grabbed ahold of Mr. Barrow's hand, not thinking anything of it. It was originally supposed to be a sharing of relief and happiness, but as soon as our hands touched, I felt a strange electricity between us. I tried to look casual and pull it back, dismissing the touch as more of a pat, but when I looked up into his eyes, I knew he'd felt it too.

My cheeks flushed. I didn't know what it was, or why I was reacting like that. He was another man, and my best friend. Any feelings other than that of friendship and brotherly love were not right. I shook off the feeling as best I could, returning to the subject of the new peace. "Can you believe it? No more fighting. No more death and crying. It's over," I said finally, letting a heavy breath escape my lips.

He still seemed slightly stunned by the touch, but he recovered and the grin returned to his face. "I know. God, I can't believe it." He paused, looking around the room at all the beds. "Downton's going to feel so quiet after this," he said softly, more to himself than to me.

That brought my thoughts back to my future again. "So do you know what they're going to do with all the patients that still need healing?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. I'd assume they'd keep the place up for a while longer, but I don't see the abbey becoming a permanent hospital. Why?"

"Well, I was told that I would be released soon anyhow. I don't know where to, though. I can't go back home with these legs. Best my father things me dead than go back to the farm and be useless and looked down upon," I mumbled the last part, but he seemed to catch it.

He looked quite concerned, which warmed my cheeks again. Damn, why do I keep doing that? "Surely your father wouldn't blame you for what happened. It's not as if you could have willed the blast not to hurt you, or willed your legs to heal."

I shrugged again. I felt as if I had been doing that a lot more lately now that I had no other mobile limbs. "You don't know him, Mr. Barrow. If I can't work, we don't have any income. We'd have to sell the land, and we'd be as poor as a pig without mud," the farm lingo slipped out accidently, and I flinched. That's not how proper men speak, I scolded myself. But Mr. Barrow just laughed.

"I'm sure he can't be that bad." He paused. He seemed to think for a moment, then cautiously put his hand down on mine. The electricity was still there, even more so, but he didn't pull away. He looked me in the eyes. "And that's Thomas to you," he smiled.

I exhaled slightly, meaning it to be a laugh but I seemed to be slightly short of breath. I looked back down at our hands. I couldn't seem to get my heart to calm down. I willed myself to think clearly, to block out the feelings, but I just couldn't. Finally, he stood up, realizing the awkward position we were in. He cleared his throat, about to walk off.

Feeling as if the air had cleared, I allowed one last remark. "Fine then, Thomas. Call me Charlie." I was granted a small smile before he left.
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The Embodiment of Geekiness
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#3
Old 05-17-2013, 12:33 AM

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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The Embodiment of Geekiness
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#4
Old 05-18-2013, 01:17 AM

WARNING - There was a bit of a heavy scene here, so I decided to bleep it out. It wasn't much, but I don't want to push the site's boundaries. If you want the full version, you can find it here: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9143137/...eling-of-Grass

Chapter Four

I don't know how or why, but somehow Thomas got the family to let me stay for a while. They didn't know me, or even want to know much more. Apparently he had asked quite diligently and they allowed at least a week or two before I had to finally leave. I think Thomas convinced them that I needed mental rehabilitation and that only he could provide it. And I couldn't very well disagree to that, now could I?

Coming to terms with what had happened only just a day or so ago was taking all my time and energy. I had nothing to compare the experience to, seeing as I had never even been with a girl so intimately. I was a young lad and worked on a farm constantly - there was no time for such dalliances. Of course, I had eyed a few during our trips to the market, but nothing ever came of that. So the whole prospect of my first kiss was daunting, and to have it be with a man...

But somehow it was different. When I thought of kissing, or doing... other things... with a man, I thought it almost revolting. But when I thought of doing them with Thomas, it was a pleasant thought which filled my stomach with butterflies and made my heart skip a beat then speed up. I didn't know what to make of such a reaction. Maybe it wasn't that I fancied men, just that I fancied Thomas.

At the moment, however, I was sat in my wheelchair in Thomas's room. He had let me borrow a book or two, and I had attempted to read them, to no avail. Nothing ever seemed too interesting. Then, against my better judgment, I had gone snooping in his things. Nothing too personal; I was sure to stay away from a suspicious leather-bound book I found in the top drawer of his dresser. I took a quick glance at some photos though, and had come to the conclusion that he had a younger sister, and was indicated on the back of the photo her name was Annabel. She looked fairly similar to our own Anna, with fair hair and big eyes. No wonder Thomas was so fond of her.

I had only occupied his room for two days; there had not been any real time to be alone. He was busy all through the day and was exhausted at the end of it all; basically just walking in and passing out on his bed. I felt bad for him. Here I was, sitting and reading all day while they worked the very life out of the man. I was tempted to give him something relaxing to come to bed to, but... I wasn't ready for something like that. Not yet, anyhow.

Tomorrow was his day off, he'd told me earlier. We hadn't had much chance to talk though, and it was a sort of passing comment. The situation was eating at me. When were we going to talk about what happened? Did I even want to talk about it yet?

I remembered that this morning was a little calmer for Thomas, as he was able to actually get ready for the day at a reasonable pace. Though, to be fair, I was half asleep and didn't really care much about anything that was happening at the time. But apparently the day had been calmer to the man, and when he finally came in for the night, he was much more awake than usual. Still tired, but not ready to pass out. Maybe we could talk tonight?

As he walked into the room, my eyes were automatically drawn to him. "Hey," I said softly, the word slipping out of my mouth with not much thought. It startled me how informal I was, but then I had to remind myself that I had kissed this man - I had a right to be at least a little informal.

He looked over at me with a smile. "Hello, Charlie," he said, much more formally. He started to take off his coat, and I realized that either I had been too tired to notice, or he really HAD just been passing out when he got in, because... I had never seen him undress. I gulped as he started to pull on his tie. He had started to wear his footmen's livery when he stopped working with the wounded, and I wasn't sure whether I was annoyed or relieved that the uniform had much more layers. "How was your day?"

His words brought me back out of my trance and I glanced away awkwardly. "Alright I suppose. Boring as ever though. I wish I had more to do than read," I said, happy for a reason to bring my mind off of the stripping.

He started to unbutton his undershirt. "Well, it won't be forever," he said, glancing at me sadly. That got me thinking: why was I here, anyhow? I mean, sure we had a sort of 'thing' started, but honestly what was his plan? I couldn't very well live there with him to carry on a secret relationship. He was right - it wouldn't last forever.

"Thomas..." I sighed, and the tone in my voice drew him to look at me. That's when he pulled off his undershirt to reveal his chest. I knew it was obvious that I was staring as my eyes shot downwards from his face. He wasn't the most built ever, with little to no tone (you could tell he'd worked in a house his whole life), but he was far from unfit. His stomach was a flat plane with a small dusting of very dark hair, from his chest to below his waist line. I gulped, forgetting what I was going to say. When I looked back up into his eyes, he was smirking with the most devious grin I'd ever seen. A burn flared in my cheeks and I took to staring at the wall opposite me.

He laughed. "What were you saying, Charlie?" he mocked, reminding me of my lost thoughts.

"Oh, uh..." I had to think a moment. "I was going to ask the point of me being here," I said, and the feeling in the room lowered to a seriousness I was uncomfortable with.

The silence was almost unbearable. Thankfully, after a long pause, Thomas began. "I... don't know, really. I just... didn't want you to go. Honestly, I didn't know what I was going to do after you were allowed to stay," he admitted with a sigh.

Another silence and he returned to his changing. I gulped as he unbuttoned his trousers. "God..." I whispered, and realized with fear I'd said it out loud.

"What? You okay?" Thomas questioned, apparently missing the effect he was having on me. Of course he'd caught me staring, but maybe it had slipped his mind...? "Am I really so breathtaking?" he laughed. Apparently not.

He returned to his work at my silence. Then, I laughed. I hadn't meant to, but I did. "Yes," I said bluntly as he pulled off his trousers, leaving him only in his underpants. Then he began to pull up pajamas and I sighed in defeat. That hadn't lasted as long as I'd liked it to.

He seemed momentarily stunned at my answer, but then just turned to me with a smirk. He pulled over a white shirt and sat down in his bed, across from me. He looked at me for a moment, waiting for me to say something, but I didn't know what. "Look," he started, eyeing the floor. "I know what happened between us a few days ago. I had thought the feeling was mutual, seeing as the action was reciprocated, but if you feel as if I've made you uncomfortable - "

"No!" I cut him off, wheeling closer to him. "No, that's not what I meant. The feeling is well and truly mutual; it's just that I don't know where this is going. Obviously I like you, a lot, but I've never even been with a woman before, so intimacy in general is new to me. And also... I don't know what the plan is with me staying here. Am I to just hole up in your room until the family forgets about me and lets me live here, or what?" I sighed, feeling my eyes burning. "I'm not even sure where I would be if I were to leave the abbey. I've nowhere else to go."

Thomas stayed quiet for a while, and then I felt a soft touch on my jaw. His fingers gently pushed my face upwards and our lips met softly. The kiss wasn't all that different to the first time's; gentle and caring - making sure not to go too far. He was being careful with me, I realized. He knew I was inexperienced and he was trying to be kind about it.

A warm feeling seeped into my chest at the realization. His fingers gently traveled from my jaw to the back of my neck, in my hair. I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him closer. The kiss was almost identical to the first time, and I found myself a little disappointed. I knew I had to be the one to change it, seeing as he was being so cautious.

~ SLIGHTLY TOO STEAMY FOR PG-13 ~ For full version, see top

He began to get up, moving away from me. "H-hey, where're you going?" I mumbled, my voice faltering slightly, as if it hadn't been used in years.

He grinned again at the sound of my battered voice. He crawled up in the sheets of his bed. "To sleep."
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The Embodiment of Geekiness
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#5
Old 05-19-2013, 12:22 AM

Chapter Five

I could feel my legs.

It had been a couple months since the war ended. The sinking realization that it was all over and my life had well and truly changed was getting to me. I finally had to come to terms with my immobilization, and now... this. I wouldn't tell anyone, not even Thomas. I had to know for sure that something was happening and it was not just my mind playing tricks on me.

Not much else had happened in the couple of weeks I had been there. The other servants started to get a little suspicious of Thomas and I, but it seemed that if they knew, they didn't really care as the subject was not pushed any further than a knowing quirk of the lips or a raised eyebrow. I had come to the conclusion that the rest of Thomas's coworkers knew of his... preferences. Can't say I'm surprised - he's quite obvious with who he's looking up and who he's turning down. Plus, the way he gets all flustered when I'm around is incredibly adorable.

I'd tried to become at least partially useful to the rest of the staff, but it seems that the wheelchair was quite a disadvantage in their line of work. I couldn't help cook or clean rooms, and I certainly couldn't do anything that would bring the family's attention to me, wheelchair or no. They seemed to have almost forgotten about me, and Thomas and I were perfectly fine with that. And although not being able to move around quite as much as the rest, and taking up more room in the busy hallways or kitchens, I was still able to help. Cleaning the dishes when most of the staff had already gone to bed - or at least done working for the day - and helping Alfred polish silver and clean clothes was definitely enough work for me. And Mr. Carson didn't seem to mind having another helping hand - he was short a footman anyway.

There hadn't been many more occurrences between Thomas and I. Maybe pecks on the cheek in the morning or a lingering goodnight kiss, but nothing much else happened. For that, I was almost grateful. I knew I had feelings for the man, but coming to terms with it had taken quite a lot out of me, and I wasn't sure I was ready to wholeheartedly commit to such a lifestyle change. What we were doing was already a risk - an illegal act. Plus, I wasn't looking forward to seeing how it would work when my legs were basically cooked noodles.

But being in his presence was enough for me - and it seemed enough for him as well. Though once in a while I would notice a special glint in his eye after we kissed, or the way his hand would trail up my shoulder. He knew not to ask for much more - that I wasn't able to give it, one way or another - but I could tell that he wanted it. Of course I felt bad, as if I was leading him on, but I knew in my heart that I was too selfish a man to let him go his own way.

Besides, as I said before, I was becoming useful. I was working off my housing privileges. And although I didn't want to commit to anything and kid myself, but there was that tingling. That soft little fleeting feeling in my thigh and under my knee, as if I was getting up after laying on them for a long period of time. Like the blood was rushing through them at last and the dormant limbs were finally waking.

I might even become a footman.

But those were too hopeful of thoughts, I knew. Of course this had to happen after I had finally come to terms with my disability; after I finally lost hope for my lower half. That small branch of my old life that I was clinging to finally broke, and I fell, only to grab onto another one only a few feet below me. A migraine started in.

"Are you doing alright, Mr. O'Neil?" asked the sweet little Daisy after dinner. She was usually one of the first to go to bed, but it seemed as if she was wide awake and ready to go. I decided not to question it much.

Rubbing my temple, I flashed a smile her way. "Quite alright, Flower." She smiled at my nickname for her. "And what did I say about calling me Mr.?"

She grinned again and waved her hand at me, as if to dismiss what I said. "It'd be improper to call you anything else, Mr. O'Neil. You don't work here, and you are certainly not below me," she explained, going on a small rant. The others say no one ever gets her into more of a rant than I, but I find that hard to believe. She is such a talkative little girl, and I love it.

I shook my head but gave her a chuckle anyway. "Silly little Flower. Go on up to bed; you must be exhausted." At that, she finally yawned and got up from her chair, nodding. Thomas then came into the room with some silver, sitting down next to me. Daisy gave me a look out of the corner of her eye, but I disregarded it and shooed her up to bed. Turning my attention towards Thomas, I found he was not paying any attention to the silverware, but more towards the table. "Is something the matter?" I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder as kindly as I could.

He seemed to snap out of it and looked up at me with big, almost innocent eyes. Innocent, I laughed to myself. Is that what you call a striptease every other night? But his tone, when he spoke, brought me down from my lighthearted manner. "I've just been in a meeting with Mr. Carson and Lord Grantham," he said, his eyes lowering, not looking me in the face. "They say you can't stay much longer. You'll have to leave in less than two months," he says, his eyes glossing over.

The thought that he might start crying at this almost brought me down as well. But I remained stiff, not willing to let this bit of new reach me deeply. We'd get this resolved somehow. I squeezed the hand that was resting on his shoulder, making him look up into my eyes. "Thomas. Even if I have to leave - which I'm sure we'll get resolved somehow - we will stay in contact. I'll live in town and you could visit on your days off or something." He smiled and I squeezed harder. "A simple move will not tear us apart," I whispered, leaning in to touch my forehead with his.
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