Kings College (Philidosia/Phildosia Fan Fiction)

Chapter 17

My eyes slowly open, as I groan at the pain on my back. Rolling my shoulders back, I get up from my sleepy position. Pain is sent into my back and shoulders from slumping uncomfortably on Philip's bed. I look up, and see him snoring softly on his bed. Chuckling slightly, I sit up fully. Massaging my temples, moaning at the horrible pain easing it's way into my head. The sight of Philip's ankle propped against a pillow wrapped in fabric reminds me of last night's incident in the ice. Slipping from my chair, trying to avoid any creaking from his floorboards, I make my way outside of the room. I close the door, and walk down the stairs. I'm instantly greeted with children running around the halls, Angelica angrily walking behind and yelling at them. Taking my coat and shoes from the rack, I slip them on.

Mrs Hamilton walks into the room, shocked at my presence. "Theodosia, you're leaving?"

"Yes, thank you so much, Mrs Hamilton. You've been so kind." I smile, saying my goodbyes as I head into the harsh weather. Luckily, it's not snowing and a thin layer of the white powder covers the ice like a protective blanket. Thankfully, not many people are out in the winter wonderland, so I don't need to worry of any rumors of why I left Philip's house in the morning. I take my time watching the snow fall as I stride back to my home.

It's soft, delicate flakes ever so slightly drifting from above. I also noted that no matter where you went, the snow was always coming directly at you. Whether you face north, south, east, west, or anything in between, it seemed like it had it out for my eyes. This causes me to hurry home.

As I close the door, warm air is sent into my body and instantly warms my body. Sliding my coat and shoes off at the entrance, I head up the stairs to take off my now slightly stiff dress. Before I completely strip, I fill the bath tub with warm water. I take a cloth and wipe my face of any makeup. Then I remove my clothes completely and slip my body into the warm water.

Sighing at the relaxing feeling, I let myself sink into it. I haven't had such a good bath in a while, I forgot the luxury of it. My hair starts collecting around my shoulders, the tips wet and bunching together. I sit up properly, only to dunk my head under water to soak it. Gathering soap in my hands, I rub it throughout my hair, making sure my eyes are glued shut go avoid soap seeking in between the lashes. Dunking my head again, I slowly open my eyes as I adjust the hair from my face. Taking the body soap, I scrub my body clean of any dirt. Then I shrug into the water again, taking a deep breath.

Now that I think about, I wonder how Papa's Christmas went. It's the first one we've spent away, and I'm curious of what he did. Clearly I had people to enjoy it with, but did he? Washington D. C., I really want to go there some day. I mean, if I plan on being a secretary than I would need to live there. Nothing I'm against, of course. Hm, hopefully Philip doesn't mind moving.

How is Philip's ankle? That trip seemed pretty painful, and his position in his bed seemed rather uncomfortable if I do say so myself. I had tried to make it nice, but having your ankle propped up does limit any real chance of comfort. At least for myself who always needs to sleep on my side. I wonder how long it will last, I don't want him to be on bedrest for eternity. Maybe I can give him Papa's crutches from his last hospital endeavour.

Smiling, I emerge from the bath and drain the water out. Wrapping myself in a towel, I re-enter my room and put on a simple purple dress to do some more chores. Since my hair is still wet, I take a few hairbands and tie it in a bun. Collecting dirty clothes, I put them inside a basket. Then, I go into Papa's room and clean out his dirty clothes. As I take everything downstairs, I notice something gold from a vest of Papa's. Slipping the watch from his pocket, I notice it's a locket. I begin to pry it open, then stop. This is wrong, I need to respect his items! He wanted me to look, then he would have showed me already! But something special could be hidden..

"Curiosity killed the cat." I shrug, and pop the top off. Inside, a picture of a beautiful young woman with light brown skin and hazel straight hair past her hips sat with an anxious little girl. The girl was about four or five, similar color to her mother's but darker and a more coffee colored skin tone. The woman was laughing as the little girl tried to climb off. In the corner, I could see a dark brown thumb ever so slightly on the camera.

"Oh Papa..." I smile, holding the picture of me and mother tightly between my fingers. I miss her so much.

A gentle sob reminds me to get back to work, and I rub my eyes. Placing the picture back and closing the locket, I put it on the table with care. I investigate every piece of clothing to ensure I don't ruin any belongings, then begin dividing. Whites go to my left, darks go to my right, colors go in front and delicacies go in the corner next to the colors and whites.

Taking the largest pile, darks, I head into the laundry room. Grabbing the bucket, I fill it with water and begin scrubbing and cleaning the clothes. It takes a while, and I find myself swiping the sweat droplets from my forehead. As I finish each piece, I clip it to the string rack inside the room. Normally, I would do it outside. But having wet clothes outside calls for ruining everything. Once everything is done, I drag the fan from the closet and have it blow against the clothes. Letting myself have a small ten minute break, I sit up and feel my limbs protest. Whatever, they'll get over it.

Muttering 'Lavender Blue' under my breath, I travel to the kitchen. Finding an apple in a deep dark corner, I decide it should be healthy enough to eat. The second my teeth make contact with the skin, it's too soft texture practically crumbles in my mouth.

"Ew." I spit it out into my hand, throwing the entire thing in the garbage as I parade the cupboards in search for food. When all I can find is a roll about a week old, I mentally note the need to go grocery shopping. Well, after some hard chewing and fear of losing teeth, I continue with the second largest pile; whites. The whites aren't hard, and just consists of scrubbing at stains. I take down the semi dry clothes and set them down under some lights to hope they dry. Then I hang the whites up and let myself chill for fifteen minutes, giving them a little more time to dry. I go upstairs and remove my bun, brushing through the impossible tangles of curly hair.

"Fine! Be that way!" I shout at my unsuspecting brush, tossing it back at the sink counter as I groan in complete frustration. Why do I have to have curly hair?! Couldn't Papa just have had straight hair? But no, I got his once curly locks. Ugh.

Being a complete pushover to my brush, I pick it up, giving it one more chance. But by the seventh time of it refusing to go past my roots, I decide enough is enough. Instead, the hair just poofs around my shoulders like some afro. Yet I'm too annoyed to even try to calm it's temper.

With a grumble, I go downstairs and finish my laundry in sections. Folding when putting the new ones down to dry, then washing the new as the old dry and continung the process until everything is folded in piles around the room and my hands have sores from scrubbing so hard. Ignoring the slight pain, I take everything to it's rightful place and make myself some chicken noodle soup for dinner. Simple enough.

Until I find myself dropping the boiling broth all over my lap and screeching in pain. Smooth.

Taking the now wet, hot, and sticky dress up the stairs, I immediately take it off. Not to my surprise, the skin on my thighs is a light pink. All the hairs there are singed off completely, and will probably remain so for at least a good week. Ouch. Applying some light lotion, which helps cool the sting, I put on a new dress.

Ah, much better. If only real burns to the heart worked that way.