The Nephew (Thomas Sangster)

XII. Home

AN: Quick and important announcement before I begin this chapter - I will be starting college classes in January and there is no telling how healthy my updating schedule will be. I'll have college level speech, composition, and biology classes in addition to all my regular senior year high school stuff. My updates will probably be even less frequent than usual (miraculously), but I do have a tumblr blog called imagines-prefs-mf that I will most likely be posting one shots to. Feel free to request on that blog; it's multi fandom so 5SOS, TMR, Harry Potter, whatever! To be completely honest I'm enjoying what I write on there very much and it's altogether easier than keeping with a plot line, like my work on this story and Challenges. I appreciate how patient you have all been with me and ask that you continue in a pattern of support and patience as I deal with finishing school and working. On to the story. :)

I walked into my en suite bathroom, brushing my hair out of my face and rubbing my eyes. The marble was cold under my feet and the temperature of the room followed suit. I had decided to shower the night before and had slept with wet hair, which always either turned out amazingly or horribly. A look in the mirror confirmed the latter. There was a giant cowlick on the right side that refused to be smoothed out and the whole thing was thick and...Hermione-like. I huffed in frustration and decided to braid it before washing my face and applying light makeup. I put on a green sweater, a good pair of jeans, and some wool socks and headed out the door, nearly slipping on the marble on the way. On my way out I managed to collide with a figure on my right, which did succeed in knocking me to floor, with Thomas laying on top of me. An intense moment of staring at each other in shock occurred before I burst into giggles and he started profusely apologizing. 

"Well good morning!" I laughed, becoming acutely aware of the distance between his face and mine.

"God I'm so - ah, good morning - so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going and I-"

"It's alright, really. I'm only a little bruised, I'm sure." It was at this time, of course, that my least favorite head of housekeeping walked into the hall, finding Thomas and I in a very poised and elegant position. 

"Why, Mister Sangster, are you alright? Olivia can be so clumsy, I'm so sorry." The old woman said, bustling towards us and helping him off the floor.

"Good to see you too, Helen." I grumbled. "Did you even stop to notice that I was on the bottom in this situation?"

"Really, it was completely my fault, I ran into her while she was coming out of her room." Thomas apologized, helping me to my feet as Helen fussed over him.

"Oh nonsense, I know it was her." She glared at me. "She's always causing trouble."

"I caused trouble once Helen. In eighth grade."

"And some trouble it was, I can still -"

"What did you come up here for, Helen?" I groaned, lifting a hand to signify that she should hush.

"Well, breakfast is served of course." She huffed angrily. "We do things in a dignified manner here, we call our guests to breakfast."

"I know, I lived here for 17 years of my life."

"I know you did."

"We'll be down in a minute, thank you." Thomas interrupted, clearing his throat uncomfortably. She put on a smile and nodded at him before shooting me once last glare and walking out of the room. "Well she was friendly."

"Hardly. The old hag hates me."

"I guess the feeling is mutual, hm?"

"She only treats me like that when she isn't in front of my parents. I've tried to tell them what a devil that woman is but they don't believe me." I frowned. "Otherwise it's all 'thank you ma'am' and 'pleasure to be of service to such a beautiful, successful young lady, ma'am.'" He laughed. "I'm not kidding, that's a real thing she's said."