『𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃~𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑙𝑏𝑦』

𝐃𝐄𝐔𝐗|𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

[FORMALITIES]

February 3rd,1912~

EVELYN YORKE COULDN'T remember a time where she hadn't dreamed of a life filled with riches as the eyes could see and the heart,could ache.

She hadn't grown up a little girl,secure with the life her parents lead. Sure they weren't the most deprived back in France,they had a nice little cottage home sat at the cusp of a small area of industrial houses. She'd never really had to watch the money she spent at the corner shops,and neither was she ever informed by her parents that they were breaking financially,but despite leading a..what others would call 'satisfactory life',she'd never felt that way.

Now,she wasn't selfish,she loved giving back to her community. She could never pass a homeless beggar without handing a few euros in the hopes of aiding in their path towards a life similar to hers...satisfactory.

But still;watching women such as Marie gallaud;the owner of the small string of corner boutiques run around,swimming in seas of rubies and sapphires-never failed to spark a pit of jealousy in her stomach.

Men handed the woman these expensive pieces wherever she went as compensation for simply breathing with such beauty.

It made girls like Evelyn question their own. She hadn't had problems finding boys in her home town that were interested,yet she'd never had a boyfriend thanks to her brother who couldn't think of anything worse than his sister dating such,what he liked to call 'Connards'.

(Twat,Jerk's)

Yet when he'd brought a girl home known only for what rested between her legs,she hadn't batted an eye.

She wished for jewels the size of her glassy eyes,a mansion big enough to hoard many.. A fruitful husband who would protect her gallantly from the dangers of the world. She wanted to be feared by many,bowed to by some and loved by all.

But in that moment,surveying the clear struggle in the faces of small heath's residents,Evelyn Yorke felt guiltier than ever.

These people were much less fortunate than she'd ever been,and yet she still had the audacity to dream of something bigger.

Something better..

She watched as an elder man pushed at the emaciated body of his wife from the doorway of their tattered home,cursing and spitting at the woman who cried in pain,clutching a small,wailing baby to the swell of her chest.

A dozen,bare-footed children ran down a cobbled path,a panicked mother following closely behind with heaps of child-sized brougues dumped in her tired arms.