𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

Have You No Shame

'I crave your breath against my cheek

Soft lips moving as you speak

Against my own I dream they'll be

While you lay underneath me'

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Stepping into the musty establishment, Florence was overcome with a sense of nostalgia. It's presence however was unprovoked for she had visited the shop at least once a week since her becoming engaged. Perhaps it was due to the fact that this time, Tewkesbury was by her side, and they were on good terms. It hadn't been that way since she first met Jonathan, and at the time, he was nobody to her; just her lady's seamstress's son.

Florence visited Mrs Carney quite often, usually just for a quick cup of tea or sometimes to help around the shop, to help her future mother in law. It was an odd thought, that she would be married, and soon. She struggled to picture herself as a wife, not to mention a mother.

When Basilwether had visitors, and they brought along their children, Florence would always do her best to avoid and stay away from the little ones. Tewkesbury however was a natural, so at ease around kids, an enviable trait in her eyes. To say that they terrified her would be an understatement. Something about how they were like bombs in the sense that they could potentially burst into tears at any given moment, or the way their hands were always either wet or sticky despite not having touched anything of the like, the origins of the disgusting substance unknown and forever shrouded in mystery.

In short, she didn't care much for children, but seeing someone who did, more specifically a boy around her age, gave her butterflies. She would never wish for her hypothetical children to grow up in a hypothetical home void of any hypothetical love. The only thing calming her worries being the knowledge that it was all hypothetical, and she still had time to avoid that path of life.

But maybe having kids of her own would be different. Maybe some biological shift would take place and her motherly instincts would suddenly kick in. Maybe she would love them more than she had ever loved anyone before. Maybe she would feel for them, care for them, live for them. And nothing would ever matter to her again; nothing other than the delicate beats of their fragile and unscathed hearts, and the life, better than her own, that she would promise to give them.

This is what ran through her bustling mind as she stepped foot into the familiar store. An entire future of what ifs splaying out and occupying her thoughts, pulling her away from the exchange taking place in front of her. Tewkesbury was deep in conversation with Mrs Carney, the pair discussing potential fabrics and silhouettes, the lot of which was of no interest to her. He was in need of a suit, a very special one at that. Something extravagant and astounding but at the same time smart and almost regal to wear to this years Christmas ball. It was only October, but the creation process could take awhile and Lady Tewkesbury had recommended leaving some extra time for any adjustments which may need to be made.

"Right over here my lord." The woman gushed, honored to have someone of such a high title inside of her store. Sure, her works were worn by highborns all across the country, but it was rare that they themselves would pop in to place an order. "Florence, darling, come around here and help me won't you." She handed Florence a tape measure all the while relocating the activities to the corner of the room. Beside a short round platform stood a wall of mirrors which could be tilted and twisted in whichever way necessary to show any and all angles of the person standing in its midst.

"Please stand over there and remove your overcoat and vest." She directed him to the area and organized her materials as he took a step up and began unbuttoning his coat. Florence followed behind, her hands fiddling with the long measuring tape in her hands, looping it around her nervous fingers.