Graham felt dizzy with concern. He hated nothing more than to see any sort of animal come to harm. It was a trait that had been instilled into him from a young age ā oh, how heād cried when Missy the cry had passed away. Heād been 7 years old at the time, but the feeling never went away. Animals were innocent, and if their suffering could be avoided then heād do anything in his power to make it so. When Hunt had taken him in, Graham had been so afraid, so lost and alone, his heart overcome with grief, that heād just blindly followed them. Heād allowed them to mould him into something of their own creation, something that he hated. When guns and hunting knives were thrust into his grips, and heād been ordered to find his prey, theyād behaved as though Graham was indispensable to the game. Each time, without fail, heād winced and cringed away from their orders, instead finding himself on the receiving end of their taunting, cruel words ā and, on an especially bad day, the sting of a hand across his cheek.
He watched, with a curious gaze, as the brunette cuddled the kitten close to her chest. It was so nurturing, so protective. It was evident that she belonged here, that her heart was in the right place and that she wanted the same thing that Graham did; to help the poor creature. He couldnāt find it in him to be hurt by her earlier outburst; he understood how strange it looked, wandering in with an injured animal that had clearly been left for dead. Heād never do such a thing, but he figured that fear had kicked in long before logic, and that the woman was reacting purely on concern alone.
He wasnāt used to being within such close proximity to anyone, not in the manner that they were, but the way that she had eagerly pushed forward to take care of the injured animal, intent on keeping it warm with whatever means possible, only further proved that she was worried. With her face so close to his own, it allowed him a moment to truly take her in, to scan every detail on her face. She looked undeniably familiar and, had he not forgotten why he was making his way to the clinic in the first place, he might have clued the pieces together in an instant. Instead, however, he merely bundled closer to her, using the warmth from his own sweater to protect the kitten from any further harm.
āYer friend, heās takinā an awful long timeā¦ā Graham muttered, his brow furrowed in distress. It wasnāt an accusation, he knew they were doing their best, but he could hear her whispered pleads for him to hurry.
Just then, like clockwork, two figures entered the room with a ferocity akin only to that of which Graham had seen down at the station. Ms Wilde, followed by the young boy named Todd, surged forward to take the kitten from him, tenderly placing her hands on the tiny oneās fur as she cradled it close. She never stopped to acknowledge him or the brunette, instead setting to work to get it comfortable. She knew her priorities and a wave of relief washed over Graham, but he couldnāt breath just yet ā not until he knew the kitten was okay.
āIā¦ I donāt know,ā he responded stupidly, glancing at the girl. He felt helpless. In his line of work, he usually had something to do. There was always orders being thrown around, even when he felt the most hopeless. Whether or not the right decision was always made was one thing, but that was something heād hold on his conscience for the rest of his life. Right now, however, he felt like a lost cause, unable to offer any even remotely useful notion. āYe work here, donāt ye? I meanā¦ canāt yeā¦ I jusāā¦ I donāt know.ā
He sighed, lifting a hand to run it over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he searched for some sort of solution to their predicament. This had been his goal for so many years; heād wanted so desperately to be a veterinarian. Heād wanted to protect animals; to take care of them and nurse them back to health. And now that he was being faced with a very real need to, it dawned on him that he lacked the capabilities entirely. He watched wildly as the girl posed her question, holding his breath in wait for the response.
The look on Ms Wildeās face was nothing but sorrow. She was hard at work, her son at her side assisting in whatever way that he could, and it was clear to see that she felt for the two of them. She seemed to know that it would help them both to have something to do. Nodding towards the brunette, and gesturing over her shoulder to the doorway sheād just bustled through, she started. āNiamh, take Mr Humbert here through to the store room. Get as many blankets and towels as you can. Weāve gotta keep her warm. Grab some gloves, too. We donāt want her to get any kind of infection while weāre working. Iām gonna need tools; Niamh, you know where I keep my stock. And, Graham, is it? Welcome to the team.ā
Graham blinked, frozen, rooted to the spot as he tried to absorb all that sheād said. It made sense, in reality, for her to know who he was. Heād been expected today, and his accent was no doubt a giveaway, but it still caught him off guard, and he merely turned to face the girl ā Niamh? ā in hopes that she might offer him some kind of help in leading him in the right direction.
Fingers reached out absent-mindedly, tracing the kittenās rickety spine as she held the animal close, barely comforted by the feel of itās faint heartbeat pounding away beneath her sweater. Niamh was so preoccupied with the fate of the tiny, helpless animal that she barely noticed all the ways her body shamelessly, unabashedly grazed this strangerās own. Her arm was trapped between their two bodies, the pair of them holding up the kitten between them, as though the poor thing weighed much more than it did. Niamh failed to notice until the man spoke up, pulling her from her reverie and sending her gaze upwards. Only then did she notice how his breath tickled her face, the full weight of his gaze upon her. Her stomach gave a jolt of discomfort as a crimson blush overtook her, staining her otherwise pale cheeks red. Niamh bit her lip, immediately tearing her gaze away.
āHeās coming.ā she snapped. She seemed to be spending a lot of time doing that, actually. She flushed a second time, wondering how her poor Father would feel about her lack of manners, knowing heād always taught her to be polite. Still, if he was going to be ashamed of his daughter, Niamh doubted it would be for forgetting to mind her pās and qās.
It wasnāt as though Niamh actually had a reason to be cross at the man. Tensions were high, the predicament was less than ideal, and Niamh wholeheartedly believed in Todd. If she squeezed her eyes tight shut she could picture him racing toward the clinic, Ms Wilde in tow, the twin sounds of feet beating against the pavement as they rushed toward their newest patient. Niamh let out a steady breath at this visual, it helping her calm down somewhat.
She was thankful when the kitten was taken from her shaky, inexperienced hands into much more capable ones. The brunette sank back, happy to blend into the shadows, content to watch with a somewhat anxious disposition until Todd pulled back, pushing that familiar mop of blonde hair from his eyes to shoot her a smile, let her know all was going to be alright.
Instead, she found herself being metaphorically dragged back into the chemical yellow light of the surgery, and into the forefront of the action. She blinked dizzily against the glare of the lamplight as all around her people set to work, the kittenās tiny body being - seemingly, to her - poked and prodded at, and Niamh somehow expected to be involved in the thrum of it all. She felt her heart blocking up her throat, surprised sheād found the words at all to speak, seeing as she was barely able to breathe.
She snapped to at the mention of her name, feeling her back straighten, imagining herself as one of the clinicās dogs with itās ears perked up. She brushed stray tendrils of hair from her face as she attempted to listen to instructions, having new names thrown at her and all sorts of directions.
Her dark eyes found the stranger - Grahamās - as she encouraged him to follow, taking off at a quick pace towards the cupboard where the blankets and towels were kept. Had it been Nick or Judy, she wouldāve found herself childishly hanging off their jacket sleeve and dragging them towards their destination. As it was with this newā¦ person, Niamh barely felt able to stand in front of him with her head high.
She immediately tore into the cupboard, badly stacked towels and blankets tumbling down of their own accord as she ripped them from their home, immediately turning and bundling them into Grahamās arms. The sense of urgency kept her heart pounding and her steps clumsy, although she reminded herself to hang back just enough so as not to accidentally touch or brush this new arrival.
āGraham, huh?ā she found herself chattering, the pile of towels growing higher and higher, so that they nearly obscured his face. Sheād heard talk of the new arrival the morning before. Anna, an almost constant presence at the clinic due to her rather adorable attachment to Todd Wilde, had been musing over whether or not heād be cute. Because according to her, Graham was a cute name. Niamh smiled to herself despite everything, knowing that the redhead could confirm her suspicions tomorrow.
āSorry about all the yelling, Graham.ā She apologised, barely looking at him. āI can be kind ofā¦ well, you heard me before.ā
She waved her hands in the air, hoping that maybe would be enough to brush off the earlier tensions.
āHeart of gold, though. I promise.ā
jacobvanloon
gummygunk
kianamaiart
2087
dailybridgerton
snowghoul
jbbartram-illu
discoholicmusic
romaincrisis
annaxmalina
turnnoffyourmind
