𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬 (𝐓𝐞𝐰𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞

Tewkesbury was walking outside to meet with [Y/N] when his uncle stopped him abruptly just by the back entrance of his family's estate.

"Where are you going? It's past nine now." He demanded, looking at his nephew with confusion in his eyes.

"I'm going outside." He explained, not entirely lying, when he wasn't with [Y/N], he was either outside in the treehouse in the forest by his family's land, thinking of a future with [Y/N] or he was with Charles, talking about [Y/N].

"Another time. Your mother wants
to talk with you." He said walking closer to
him. Tewkesbury sighed and ran his hand down his face. The only thing he wanted to do is meet with [Y/N]. He felt empty when he was without her. 

"Tell her I'm busy." He urged and his uncle shook his head sternly and he knew he wasn't going to be able to leave without talking to her.

  He lead him to the dining room where his mother and grandmother were sat. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he sat down.

  His mother cleared her throat and spoke with a firm voice, "I have come to a decision."

  He looked around at his grandmother and uncle to see them staring at his mother. "I want you to join the military, like your uncle. You can go overseas."

     He felt his life slipping away with those last words, like sands through his fingers. He saw his life flashing before him. [Y/N], being heartbroken and furious by his choice of leaving her, and with all the reason.

     He could see the vision clear in his head. The Italian her mother wanted her to marry eventually coming back, and [Y/N] out of grief and anger of him leaving— accepting his proposal. He saw her having children with him, her family's situation with money getting fixed. He saw her in a wedding dress and his heart ached at the thought of her being in one without it being him that she was marrying.

His mind ran wild, thoughts of [Y/N] with Phillip making him clench his fists at the thought of another man touching her. Him being away from her. No.

He was not necessarily the angry, jealous type—the contrary, he wanted his woman to feel free in a relationship, loved in a pure way, he didn't want to treat a woman like an object or a pet, something to simply have children with and boss around, despite many other men's beliefs of woman, Tewkesbury saw them as beautiful, wonderful, with ambition and love, and beauty all in one. At the end of day, it was them who brought life into the world wasn't it? By the grace of God.

But, at the thought of [Y/N] with another man, especially Phillip Golding himself, he felt the jealously bubble up in him, the hurt at the idea of  [Y/N] holding another man's hand, and for the first time he considered ever putting a hand against another man for  [Y/N]. But never the jealousy where he would hurt  [Y/N] or insult her. That never crossed his mind, no. He wanted to love her gently, softly, kindly, the way that woman deserved to be treated. Not whatever show the other men displayed by treating woman like objects, treating them with aggression. He believed [Y/N] deserved to be treated like the delicate flower she was.