Imagine being the youngest of the Crawley sisters, and Tom slowly figuring out that he’s in love with you.
——— Request for anon ———
He watched you playing gayly with little Sybbie, making the small girl’s high-pitched squeals of laughter carry over the gardens in a way that Mary would scold you for encouraging in a lady if she were there, but she wasn’t. And Tom found himself smiling more than he had in a long time, watching you and his daughter get on so well.
The giggles die down as the nurse comes to take Sybbie back into the main house, in time for her to get a bath as you head back to where Tom sits, “I must be getting dull in my old age for Sybbie to so eagerly go to her bath.”
Tom chuckles, “Don’t be silly, if you’re getting old then I’m positively ancient.”
You grin teasingly as you take the tea cup you’d previously abandoned on the table between you, “Should I fetch you a cane, then?”