The Blue Danube [OLD]

- 𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔢𝔫. ﾐ

╲⠀╲⠀╲ ╲

⠀⠀╲⠀╲⠀☆⠀ ╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀☆⠀╲⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀★

(i dont know what theyre doing in this pic but i support them)

january 1859

It was a mid-temperature day. Not too hot, nor too cold. It was perfect weather to work, for Paul at least. You weren't so hot that you couldn't even hold onto the axe properly and you felt like you were literally in a waterfall of sweat, like you would sweat so much you'd end up melting into a pile of just... grimy sweat. But you weren't so cold either that you couldn't feel your face or hands, with only a flimsy, tattered coat to protect you from the snow and harsh winds. The doe-eyed boy felt pain shoot up his back once again as he swung the axe onto the piece of wood, sweat running down his bare arms as he worked in just a tank top and overalls, but it wasn't as bad as it was during the summer. The clouds were a stark white and blanketed the entire sky, but there was no rain or wind. The family were working, once again, and Paul was about to take a break, as Jane had called from the house that she had some bread and butter, and fresh lemonade she made to give. 

"Comin', Jane!" Paul called, wiping the sweat from his brow and letting out a loud sigh, the axe cluttering to the ground beside him as it slipped from his clammy palms. He then walked over to check on Mike and his dad. "Ye two alrigh'?" He asked concernedly. 

"Yeah, 'm fine. Will join ye in a mo', jus' finishin' the las' few bits." Mike smiled, the fifteen-year-old gesturing to the house. "Go on. Save some fer me, though!" 

"I'll try." Paul grinned warmly at his younger brother and roughly ruffled his hair, who protested and jumped away.

"'ll clobber ye! Stay back, foul beast!" He held up the axe with a grin, pretending to loom over him, though he was much shorter. Paul started to back away with his hands held up in surrender, face contorted into mock fear, not bothering to suppress his grin though.

"Please, sire, don't hurt me! I am but an innocent damsel!" He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, pretending to faint, fanning himself with the other. They both burst into laughter, leaning against each other as Paul wiped a tear from his eye before the doe-eyed boy called his goodbyes and turned to go back inside, but slowed when he felt eyes burning into his side, the gaze was weirdly intense and caused him to rub at his arm, glancing off to the side of the house.
There were a cluster of large trees and bushes that snaked and climbed over the broken fence, covering the right side of the house. It was an area of forest that was going to be cut down to make way for more cheaply built houses, since there wasn't enough to house the poor. It was one of his favourite places from his childhood, he still went there to this day. He remembered countless days where, whenever he was upset, angry, or just needed to be by himself, he would run into the forest and to his secret place, where there was a dip in the earth and soft, lush grass created a bed-like area. Wildflowers were littered all around it, and there was a perfect gap in the trees so he could gaze up at the stars on a clear night. He still went there from time to time, he never told anyone about it, though. He wanted it to just be his place and his alone. Maybe other people knew about it, but he doubted it. It would be a sad day when they cut it all down.