#|| this boy wouldn't survive thirty minutes in a horror movie

[cromwellharvests]

In a predictable turn of events, Emily had long since stolen his dog away, announcing that she was taking Biscuit on a tour of the neighborhood, with the promise to be back before lunch, but otherwise content to leave him to his own devices. A merciful gesture, as far as most were concerned, given how late his train had gotten in the night before and, further, how they’d stayed up far later after— as the siblings were wont to do. (How she had so much energy already was a mystery, but hadn’t that always been the case?).

After sleeping in just as late as his body would allow, he started making himself at home. Music on the phonograph gently stirring, a quick breakfast thrown together, and a brief walk through her hard-won backyard garden slowly bringing him to full keel... as well as a cup of coffee to help it all along.

Luckily, he was feeling pretty bright and bushy-tailed by the time a short series of knocks fell on the front door, drawing him up and out of his seat with no hesitation. Half owed to his good-host instinct, and the other to his figuring it was just Easy returning from her walk with something she picked up along the way (which kept her from unlocking and opening the door herself), he tossed the door ajar without another thought.

“ Ah— ” there’s the second thought: dawning on him as he quickly realizes his dog is nowhere in sight, nor the sister who’d heisted her in the first place. The lady at the door looks perfectly nice, and neatly put together at that, but it is not, in fact, Emily Cromwell.

" ...Uhm. Hello there! I... guess you were probably looking for Miss— uh, Major Cromwell? ”

@windbornee​  ♥’ed