✔️ shadows of desire | downton abbey

chapter 18

A/N: hello everyone! First of all, thank you so much for reading this story. Secondly, I am sorry for not sharing this part earlier, however I had writers block. But now without further ado: here's chapter 18

FLASHBACK (1900)

The room was stifling, the air thick with the scent of sickness and neglect. Dust motes floated lazily in the narrow beam of light that seeped through the singular, grimy window. The once pale walls were yellowed with age, and the floorboards creaked under the weight of even the smallest movement. The bed I lay on was old and lumpy, the thin blanket doing little to ward off the chill that seeped into my bones.

I was feverish, every breath labored as I fought against the illness that had taken hold of me. My body was drenched in sweat, the heat from my fever making the room feel even more suffocating. I could barely move, my limbs heavy and uncooperative. The room, so small and ill-suited for a child, seemed to close in around me.

In the distance, I could hear the faint, muffled sounds of children playing outside—their laughter and shouts a cruel reminder of the world beyond these four walls. I knew Thomas was out there, running with the other boys, as Ma and Pa had encouraged him to do. They said it was important for him to be out in the fresh air, to be strong and healthy.

But then I heard the soft creak of the door, a sound so quiet it almost blended into the background. I turned my head weakly, my eyes barely able to focus, and saw Thomas peeking through the half-open door, his eyes wide with concern.

"Denny, are you awake?" he whispered, his voice barely audible as he pushed the door open a little further, letting in more light.

I managed a faint nod, too weak to speak. The sight of him standing there brought a small, flickering warmth to my heart, a welcome contrast to the cold that had settled over me.

Thomas hesitated for a moment, then stepped into the room, his presence filling the small space. He moved quietly, as if afraid to disturb the stillness that had settled over everything. His clothes were dusty from playing outside, and his hair was tousled, but his eyes were bright and full of purpose.

"I got something for you, Denny, look," he said, his voice soft but filled with a kind of eager excitement. He pulled out a small paper bag from behind his back, the crinkling sound it made as he opened it a rare, comforting noise in the silence.

My eyes widened slightly as he carefully extracted a single chocolate cookie from the bag, holding it out to me with a proud smile. It was my favorite—a rare treat that we almost never had.

"I got you your favorite cookie," he said, his voice full of hope and love.

A weak smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, my heart swelling with gratitude for my brother. The effort it had taken for him to get this one small thing for me, despite everything, meant more than I could express.

With trembling fingers, I reached out to take the cookie, the chocolate scent wafting up to me and mingling with the stale air of the room. It was a tiny, sweet respite from the sickness that held me in its grip, and in that moment, it was everything.

As I nibbled at the cookie, the taste of rich chocolate melting on my tongue, Thomas sat down beside me, his small hand gently brushing a strand of damp hair from my forehead. He didn't say anything more, but he didn't need to. His presence, his kindness, spoke volumes.

We sat there in the stillness, the sounds of the outside world fading away as the small, warm connection between us took over. The room was still unfitting, still dirty, but for those few precious moments, it felt like a sanctuary.