Small Heath's Angel

Chapter 18 - Understanding

Guess who's back. Back again. ;)
Word Count:
8743

Tommy's eyes slowly opened. The last thing he remembered and the first thing that came to mind was an angelic voice. His head was filled with it for the seconds his mind adjusted to his surroundings. The bustle of the outside street came to him first... then it was the familiar warmth that surrounded him.

He felt someone snug against him. Their arms around him, legs draped over his and their head against his. Tommy's eyes slowly came into focus. He noticed the ends of a nursing dress that were left uncovered by the blanket and instantly knew where he was. Everything came flooding back to him. Of course Florence had helped him when he came to her door past midnight drenched in water.

Tommy carefully held her head up as he straightened his neck and laid it down on his shoulder. He stretched his neck, letting it crack as he moved it around, careful not to wake Florence up and fixed up the blanket so it was covering her properly.

Her voice filled his head again—the angelic and just perfect sound. He had first gone to the Garrison for whiskey and company but the moment Grace finished her song he felt pulled toward Florence. He needed to see her and just hear her voice. A soft song similar to the one she had sung weeks before. The voice of an angel as he had heard many men who returned from war utter.

Angel. It suited her unbelievably well.

He wondered if she ever discovered the origin of the name. If she had, she hadn't mentioned anything.

Realisation flooded him. There were no shovels. For the second time, he awoke to blackbirds and the bustle of the street rather than enemy soldiers breaking through his walls.

Why? How?

Tommy felt Florence stir. His eyes drifted to her as she softly groaned and her eyes fluttered open. Her eyes darted around the room as she realised where she was. He watched as she sat straight, stretching her body. "Good morning," she muttered. She cracked her neck causing her to let out a light groan.

"Morning," he whispered, eyes tracing up and down her body.

She ran a hand over face, rubbing her eyes before patting down her hair. "What time is it?"

He looked over to the clock. "Seven o'clock."

She sighed. "Two hours," she muttered. "C'mon," she pushed herself up and held her hand out for him, "I'll make breakfast before my shift." Tommy took her hand and used the chair to push himself up, taking the majority of his weight off her.

He muttered a thanks and watched her walk toward her kitchen. He grabbed the blankets that had fallen on the ground and folded them before placing them on the chair. Tommy picked up the tray that held the tea from the night before and brought it to the kitchen.

Florence glanced at it and sighed. "I'll clean that up after work," she muttered.

Tommy shook his head. "It's okay, I'll do it now."

"Are you sure?" She asked, turning her head. He nodded once and Florence smiled. "Thank you."

They were mostly silent as Tommy cleaned and Florence cooked. He watched as she moved through the kitchen, her movements fluid despite the fact that there was someone else in a space she usually has to herself.

Tommy set the table as Florence made them both a small cup of coffee, spooning the beans into the filter from an almost empty bag. Florence placed the coffee on the table and quickly served the eggs and toast up after it. She sat opposite Tommy and sent him a small smile when they glanced up at the same time.