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══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*══

( Dean Evans is no other than Brenton Thwaites )


The sheets were warm, his hands on her face were too. Esther wasn't able to move, the pain in her chest too heavy, pushing her deeper and deeper into the matress and into his arms.

Dean had brought her up to her room that night, washed her, fed her and held her. They knew each other merely a day but it felt like years, like centuries.

"Who are you, Dean?" her voice was scratchy. She had cried and wailed while he had washed the blood off her body. With gentle hands he brushed some hair out of her face.

"My legal name's Dean Brixton. My father was Alfred Brixton." He paused, her eyebrows furrowed. "You're a Brixie?" his head moved in a nod. "My mother didn't want me in it but father made me his legacy."

"What're you doin' so far from London?" he gave her a smile. "Thomas invited me. Couldn't say no to finally meeting the infamous sister." she chuckled and closed her eyes before her face contorted in a frown again. A sob left her lips and Dean held her close again.

She couldn't understand why this situation hurt her as much as it did. Marianne hadn't been her wife or a close family member- but she was. She was her brother's wife, someone she started to like, let in. Was letting her in a mistake?

To think that Dean was just like her, a gangster, a criminal. The Brixies were a quite well known organization in London, illegal business, bloodshed and a lot of money. Her hands found his back and her face nuzzled in his chest.

Was it to early to say she was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him?


⌞ •°•❀•°• ⌟


A few days passed, Dean had left to tend to his business but assured her to be back before nightfall. She had put on some dresspants and a shirt Dean had left behind. Her hair was undone and the eyebags under her eyes couldn't have been darker.

She made her way down the stairs towards Tommys office just to find it empty. "He's outside." Polly's voice rang in her ears, she somehow hoped to look at Mariannes face when she turned around. "He's been outside since." she said as she stroked her nieces hair. "I'll search for him." Her aunt only nodded and gave her a tight smile.

She didn't bother for a jacket, desperate to feel the cold, to feel something at all. She walked and walked, foggy air embraced her as she walked further down the fields. After some time she thought he might've left and ran away, she wouldn't have blamed him.

"You'll freeze to death." she heard, her brother sat on the grass behind her. She whipped around, wind whirring through her hair. With slow steps she walked over to him, her knees hit the grass beneath and her arms slung around his shoulders. They just sat there like this.

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