"I thought I said not to cause any trouble, my dear." George chimes, playing with something in his vest pocket for a moment and I bite the inside of my cheek.
"Your majesty, just because we made it to England doesn't mean I'm giving up." My gaze fal...
*Author's note- Hello friends! I hope you all are having a wonderful start to the holidays! Before this chapter begins, I just wanted to apologize for not being as active with posting lately, it's been crazy for me irl so I haven't had much free time to write, and when I did writers blockrearedit's ugly head - but I'm not going to ramble on here.
I also wanted to thank you all for your support on this story; eighty-eight thousand reads (and the many hilarious and heartwarming comments) is still mind blowing to me, and I couldn't have done it without you all! From the bottom of my heart, thank you all for everything - I'm trying to get chapters out faster but I do appreciate your patience. You all mean so much to me, and if any of you need anything feel free to pm me.
/]_/] (○v○) /\]<3\
Enjoy!*
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(This is what you're wearing.)
~~~ November 25, 1777 ~~~
° ° °
A small gasp breaks through the serene quiet of the room - my right hand shaking off the sharp pain while the fabric and threaded needle fell to my lap.
A held back chortle catches my attention as I lift my head, my eyes being met with the woman who sat across from me and held a hand to her lips. The older female then clears her throat, seeming to gather herself before she sets her hands in her lap - her fingers ceasing their needle work.
"And that's why you wear this." Marion comments, leaning over towards the coffee table before her gentle hand picks up a small, silver hued object. She straightens, holding it between her pointer finger and thumb and I laugh lightly as I shake my head.
"I told you, I'm fine." I say back, turning my gaze away from the thimble between her fingers and I lift the small pieces of fabric in my hands. "I'll get the hang of it eventually...just need a little more practice is all."
"Well, eventually needs to come sooner rather than later; you've poked your poor finger too many times for my liking." Marion straightens, placing the thimble in her palm before her hands place themselves in her lap. "Are you sure you don't want to learn something else? I can teach you how to knit or crochet- something that's easier to pick up."
I shake my head in response, my fingers fiddling with the needle between them as I place it on the fabric - sticking it through before pulling it out the other side and I smile. "Thank you, for the offer, but I'd only make a tangled mess." I chuckle. "More-so than the thread."
