Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Chapter Eleven.
•••
𝓢he stared at the building before her with indecision eating away at her. She was sat on a bench across the street from Bentley Hall Asylum for Girls, as she had been for the past half hour, undecided if she wanted to go inside or not.
After the incident at the Basilwether estate, Amelia had been rushed off the property for medical attention. Tewkesbury had shoved a wad of money at the doctors, asserting that he wanted the best medical care for her. Amelia had passed out in the carriage on the way, and Tewkesbury and Enola had to stay behind to attend to the arrest of his grandmother.
When she woke up, she had bandages all over her head, and a sling around her arm. The room was dark, but the sunrise was peaking through the curtains. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting before she noticed a figure sat next to her bed, bent over awkwardly in the chair he slept in. His messy hair gave it away, and she felt her heart swell with emotion.
"Tewkesbury." She went to call, but her throat ached, and her voice sounded dry. She tried again, a little louder, "Tewkesbury."
The brunet slowly shifted, yawning, which turned into a groan as he sat up properly. She sat with a stupid grin on her face as he slowly got up, blinking rapidly. It was then he noticed that it was her who stirred up, and he jumped up immediately.
"Amelia!" He exclaimed, leaning forward to tackle her in a hug much like she had for him when he woke up in Basilwether. A laugh spilt out of her mouth, raising her good arm to hug him back, fingers tangling in his hair. They were silent for a moment, soaking up each others company, before she leaned away, hand moving to his cheek. Really, she just wanted to search his eyes for conformation this was real. Her head hurt less, but a dull ache remained. His eyes were wide, scanning her face in a similar manner, as if to make sure she was okay.
When she felt satisfied, she pulled him close again, hugging him so tight he groaned at lack of oxygen, "you're killing me here, Hastings."
She laughed, letting go. Tewkesbury sat down again, pulling his chair up to her bed this time. His hand found hers, as it always seemed to, and he gave it a gentle squeeze.
"How long has it been?" Amelia looked around for any sort of inclination to the date or time, but other than the faint red glow coming from the window, she had no idea.
"You were out for three days," Tewkesbury sighed, "My grandmother has been arrested. My Mother and Uncle are back from London. I'm home." The words seemed to sink in the more she sat with it. Her eyes diverted to the wall, an awkward silence falling between them. The boy beside her squeezed her hand once more, gaining her attention.
