[FANFICTION / ONGOING]
When the once peaceful city of London is overtaken by the dangers of the Second World War, a naïve, young Rose must find ways to distract herself from the constant worries of her father's welfare in the war. Whether it...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
✧✧✧
Rose Lovell let out a sigh of relief, as she crossed the yards of her home and reached the serene lake. There, lounged her older brother, a cloud of smoke wafting in the air around him, as he raised the lighted cigarette to his lips. On his other hand, rested that morning's newspaper neatly folded, still unread.
Out of breath, she began to slow down as she neared the suntanning beds, grateful to have reached the lakes, so she could wash her shoes before entering the house. One more thing, Rose Lovell was not an athletic person. Though she was energetic, she despised doing any sort of sports that involved using her strength and stamina.
She came to a stop in front of his lounge bed; the blazing sun reflecting upon the calm waves of the lake, and birds singing all around them reached her ears. Rose crossed her arms upon her chest, as Albert took a rest under the tree-shade, glasses covering his eyes. Plopping down upon the lounge-chair beside him. "I thought Mum said you were not allowed to smoke, yet," she said, and Albert barely lifted his glasses to look at her.
"Mum's not here," he told her, parting his lips to release the captured smoke. "Besides, you are not allowed to go to those woods; yet, there you were," he adjusted himself on the soft sun-bed, "And now, you are here to wash your shoes, because Mum would have your head if you ever entered the house in that state."
Rose peeled off her socks, staring into the beckoning waters of the lake. "I won't tell Mum you are smoking, if you do not tell her where I was," she said, standing from the white sun-bed to stand by the pier.
"Too late."
She halted in her steps. "What?" she inquired, "Albert, did you tell her?"
Albert sighed, looking at her. "No, I did not have to. At this point, everyone in the house knows," he laid back down on the lounge-chair. "Just—don't tell her about this, and next time, I won't."
"Oh, you so did," Rose sat down by the pier, and after a beat passed, she asked: "And what did she say?" She pondered whether or not she should tell him about the cat and what happened in the woods. Perhaps not yet.
Albert shrugged, "I do not know; I think she's mostly disappointed, because you don't listen to her."
"She always is," Rose let her feet dangle by the edge of the wood-planked pier, "It does not matter what I do, and I think she will be more so now, because I have lost Serafina—in the woods."
Her brother, however, did not seem fazed by this: frankly, it happened all the time. "Of course you did," he raised the cigarette to his lips once-again.