I know this is rather early to ask, but if I did about after the war, should I do it as a part two to this story or a second book? Thanks for the input x
Tommy
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After Lucille had disappeared down the stairway with her father tagging closely behind, Tommy had retreated back to their base in the corner of the room. There was something off between the two of them, and that, Tommy could tell. He was silent for a while as he sat among the blankets and pillows, head leaned back, staring forward. Dawson waited a moment timidly. As he watched him, he dipped his brows in worry.
"What's up with the whole glarey eyes and frown?" The blond boy asked, nodding toward the entrance, which had been covered up.
"I wasn't glaring." Tommy muttered, his voice sounding huffy, like a ten year old who tried to plead innocence.
"You were." Dawson urged, smiling at the man's childish insistence. He added, "Her father definitely noticed it too."
"I don't know what you mean." Tommy said proudly, while shaking his head and lifting his chin.
"It wasn't hard to miss, mate." Dawson said, as he clapped a hand in his shoulder, giving it a light shake, earning a hiss of pain.
"Sorry." Dawson said, pulling his hand back sharply, receding back into silence.
"So what do you think of her?" He asked after a while of biting his lip, stick in the cycle of boredom.
"Lucille?" Tommy asked, unsure.
"Yes." Dawson nodded as he spoke.
Tommy turned back to stare at the wall, leaving a moment to pause, until he shrugged and said simply, "She's nice."
"Nice?" Dawson exclaimed, with a chuckle. Holding his head back in confusion.
"Kind." Tommy added, after noticing that he wanted more.
"That's all you have to say about her? She's nice." He exclaimed in exasperation, his eyes widening but lids slanting.
"Well what do you want me to say?" Tommy asked, his hands flipping out in another animated shrug, his voice increasing.
"Something better than that." He blurted out, his head shaking.
"Oh fuck off, what do you think of her then?" Tommy shouted back, lifting his head in motioning to the man.
Dawson lifted his chin with his brows, folding his arms across his chest. "I think she's very pretty. Don't you?"
