𝐿𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑆𝑢𝑟𝑔𝑒𝑜𝑛-𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒜𝓇𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁 𝒟ℴ𝒹𝑔ℯ𝓇//ʲᵃᶜᵏ ᵈᵃʷᵏⁱⁿˢ

𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗

"I would rather die of passion than boredom"

- Van Gogh

A NORTHERNLY CHILL settles within the evening air, sending a breeze through the walls, the doors, and the open windows of the Dawkins Cottage. Although, the windows were not commonly open during the winter, Mary had arrived home to not only a kitchen sink on fire, but Charlie and Theodore standing in the middle of what was nearly on the front page of the newspaper, under the title, 'Dawkins residence, up in flames' alongside the mention of their ever impending debt.

However, despite the stress, thankfully before the news articles could be written, she stumbled across her younger brothers holding two, smoke clad towels like two kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

The leftover scorch marks were typical bastards to remove, no amount of elbow grease or water could remove the dark tarnishes from the kitchen cupboards.

Therefore, it was obvious they weren't allowed to surprise her with there rare attempt at dinner in the near future, if at all. She loved the thought the boys had put together, of course, since the thought the only thing that matters. However, the risk of burning down the only home Jack and Mary could afford with their pay rates, at risk via the hands of Mary's younger brothers was something be well and truly aware of.

Therefore, if the small majority wooden bungalow the couple had scavenged, saved, and worked their absolute hardest for, had been irreversibly damaged, or worse, one of the kids had gotten hurt, neither adult would be able to afford to rent another home, or forgive themeselves if the worse had occurred.

Each occupant of the home was dressed in some form of layered attire, in attempt to keep the northern chill at bay. Each person busied themselves with their own entertainment, the younger ones accompanied with blocks and toys, the older ones catching up on sleep and study.

Will, as soon as he arrived home after a double shift, decided he'd take a lay down for a couple hours. He'd been working flat stick as of late, attempting to save up enough to hopefully buy his long time girlfriend a ring. Mary always admired the boy for his selflessness, him often reminding her of her younger years with Jack during the pick pocketing and even during the Navy days.

Tommy, dressed in his late fathers coat, sat at the hand calved desk, scattered with papers, ink, and crumpled sketches he'd long ago given up on, because they 'weren't right'. He'd been trying terribly hard to study for whatever future he could clasp his hands on, however, something always seemed to get in the way. It was like, once he finally got ahead of the benefitted people, with flashy coast and brand new ink pens, they'd move the finish line.

Only last week he went to the local school, top tier finished sketches bundled by a paper clip, clasped neatly in his hands. He'd proudly walked six blocks across town to get to school half hour early in hopes the engineering class would take him in. However, it never happened.

He didn't even get through the front door before they turned him away, his designs tossed to the muddy ground, words left the mouths of the rich and once again, the poor were sent away because they weren't dressed accordingly. Now, he continues to work his absolute hardest, long days of work, late nights of study, all because of the clothes he wears and the notes in his wallet. 

Since the very unlucky surprise on behalf of her two youngest brothers, Mary-Rose had been trying to settle Daisy down, however, this proved to be rather difficult since the baby had somehow recognised the sudden anxious shift in the air between the two adults standing in the living room.

The cold breeze allowed Mary-Rose to dress the baby back into her new winter clothes, kindly gifted by the Church of their town.

However, the emotions settling within the home were far from breezy.