Underneath the Lovely London Sky | Arthur Kirkland x Reader | Disneytalia

Chapter 5

"Nothing in the wardrobe!" Jane calls out from below, her voice gradually drawing closer. Micheal immediately perks up at the sound, wiping his crystal tears away as he hurriedly removes the pearl necklace from his hand, placing it back in the small music box before moving it out of sight back in the crate it had been found in.
"Oh my goodness," Jane mutters aloud, eyes wide in awe at the dusty boxes and tatty furniture huddled up in the attic as he climbs up the last few steps before fully entering the room.

"Yes, it's-" Micheal starts from his place in the corner, his back facing the crate containing a few of his wife's most cherished items, "-quite a mess."

"Yes, it is," Jane answers, forlornly before noticing boxes filled to the brim with paper and pencils, paintbrushes and erasers followed by an art easel, "what are all your art things doing up here?" She questions, knowing her brother's love and passion for imagery. She walks up to the desk and draws, grasping onto a few stray papers litters on the surface, the papers holding sketches and drawings of all sorts.

"Oh, I wasn't using them anymore," the brunette notices his sister panning through the sketches he had drawn long ago, mild annoyance and embarrassment flushing over his features as he steps towards the woman and grabs ahold of the items, "I should- probably just get rid of it all." He snatches them out of her grasp and throws them into a cardboard box filled with other things he was planning to get rid of. Jane watches, albeit sadly, at her brother's actions but keeps quiet about it for the time being.

"Have you looked in father's old desk?"

"I honestly can't remember why we decided to keep most of this stuff to begin with." Micheal ignores his sister's question, gazing at a dusty old snow globe in his hand, the water that had once resides within the glass had evaporated long ago, "I mean, why on earth would we save this old broken thing?" He states, leaning over and grabbing a tatty green kite with patches of what seems to be random newspapers and on it, in a previous attempt to patch up the holes on it to help it fly again. He places it in the box with all of the other items to be thrown out, only for Jane t swiftly snatch it back out again with a look of reminiscence in her eyes.

"Don't you remember that kite?" She clutches it protectively before holding it out in front of her, her brown orbs taking in all of the old crumbles and colours within it, "we used to love flying that with mother and father... and remember when (Y/N) was young? Oh how she adored seeing it fly up in the clouds."

"Well, it won't fly anymore." Micheal states firmly, grabbing the kite and— once again— stuffing it quite harshly in the box, pushing all of those fond memories to the back of his head. He grabs ahold of the box and swiftly begins to stomp back down the stairs, "out it goes. No looking back."
Jane simply stares at her brother, eyes glossy at his actions and how he so easily and willingly got rid of the treasurable items holding sentimental memories of their family.

Micheal steps out from the side gate, his face blank as he holds back his emotions before placing down the box, barely even sparing it a glance as he turns on his heel and leaves, ignoring the voices at the back of his head telling him to keep the precious items.

Unbeknownst to him, the wind suddenly begins to peek up, trees and other flora beginning to sway due to the pressure. The box shuffles slightly before the kite swiftly flies out, the light blue, pink and murky white 'votes for women' banner attached to it, used as a tail, flowing gracefully behind it. It almost floats over the house before turning around, diving towards the ground and pulling up last second, making its way towards the local park.

Jack comes to a sudden stop on his bike as he notices the kite flying on its own with only the wind guiding it. He eyes it as a smile makes its way onto his face, a knowing look appearing in his chocolate brown irises.