Hi hi! Would you please be willing to write a Brona Croft x reader fic? I feel like she’s criminally underwritten for, haha.
But I was thinking maaaaybe like she’s living down the hall from R in the apartment she lived in S1 but the moment they really bond could be like R overhearing a coughing fit and asking if she wants tea or something like that and then from there they ✨fall in love✨
a/n— Sorry it took so long idek how it did I worked on it nonstop for three days straight…tbf tho it is really long……hopefully it doesnt disappoint
The mariners inn was a stingy place. Much like most of London. Creaky wooden floors, cheap alcohol that burned more then it should and poor old motel rooms with walls thinner than paper that couldnt hold in heat no matter the conditions.
You’d been living there for a month now, working there for much longer. The pay was good, and the owners of the business respected you. So much so that when they heard you had no home, they offered up one of their motel rooms.
Finally free from the stress of finding a place to stay, you began focusing on your work. Tending to thirsty sailors in need of a drink, normal working men who needed to get away from their families, and the other people who took residency in the motel.
None of them stuck, none were there long enough for you to even learn their names.
But there was one person, she came not long after you moved in, she stayed in the room right next to yours. For the first two weeks she was here you learned almost nothing about her except that she had a cough and a very infrequent schedule.
She left her room at odd times. Sometimes late at night, sometimes the middle of the day. There wasnt much a chance to see her, let alone get to know her.
Though one thing you learned quickly— Since the first night she arrived she was coughing, nothing bad at first; a minute or two at night and never in the day, but slowly over time it had been getting worse.
This past week has been different however. She came and sat at the bar almost every day, having three shots and small talking with whoever was serving her which was almost always you.
Over three days you learned her name, and she told you why she was in London. Brona croft. She recently travelled here in hopes of escaping poverty, famine and disease in ireland.
Quickly, you both became acquainted. Speaking briefly late at night when she would return from her nights out, making fun of some of the men who came in and discussing small surface level topics like the weather and how prices varied across london.
You grew fond of her quickly, despite your routine with her being nothing more then serving her a drink, talking, taking her money and then saying goodbye. You found yourself waiting for the moments she would come down the stairs, admiring parts about her like her hair and accent. found yourself smiling at the thought of her while you cleaned, imagining far fetched scenarios about her while you walked through the snowy streets of London.
The rest of the week passed by in a blur, and the next one after that, the only special thing happening over fourteen days being yours and Bronas growing relationship. Nights had started getting significantly colder, some nights not even fire could keep the small room warm.
You spent your time behind the bar, serving, cleaning and counting money. At night, you were awakened by Brona coughing, which had become a sort of alarm, reminding you to keep the fireplace full and lit.
The cough had gotten worse over the week, what was once three minutes of coughing for the whole night had turned into well over five.
It was disturbing to say the least, you already worked harsh hours and hardly got any sleep and ontop of that any sleep you did get was restless because of the cold, but you couldnt help feeling bad for her. Knowing that she was sick and not getting any better. It made the time she would visit with you feel almost…intimate, in a way.
You and her werent particularily close, in between the strange line of acquaintences and friends. So to be awake with her at night, listening to something nobody wants anyone to hear come out of them. To be awake with her while the rest of London was sound asleep? It made you feel closer to her then she probably felt to you.
On one particularly cold night, You were woken up atleast seven times to the sound of Bronas coughing and sleepily walking around her room, her feet weighing down on the wood shaking the wall between you, clattering the porcelain accessories on the shelves attached.
By morning, getting up felt like trying to free yourself from quick sand. You went to work as normal, fighting all day to keep the exhaustion masked and your brain functional.
You found yourself constantly looking up to Bronas door, waiting for the moment it would squeal open like it did every day. Waiting for her to come and sit at the bar. Waiting for the toothy smile she greeted you with.
But it never came. Shadows danced across the floor, the sun melted the ice and frost off the windows and eventually it became dark. It got busier in the pub, Men cycled through it, getting way more drunk then they should and being unbelievably rowdy.
By the end of your shift, you still hadnt seen Brona and had served so many drinks it felt like your joints had been glued together. Tired, and a bit dissappointed you slack on cleaning the bar, smiling innocently as you walked by the woman taking over for you.
You flopped onto the thin mattress as soon as you got into your room, not bothering to change your dress or make yourself something to eat.
kicking off your shoes you slip under the covers, relishing in the feeling of comforting fabric weighing you down. You sigh as relief washes over you, the tension of the day leaving your body and pulling you deep into sleep.
Some time later, you’re woken up by Brona hacking. It sounded different tonight, louder, more strained and prolonged, occassionally going quiet but never fully stopping.
Eyes heavy, you close them again, waiting patiently for it to pause or stop like usual, counting up the seconds in your head. By the time you reach 120, Brona is yet to stop coughing at all.
You open your eyes wide, pushing through the fuzzy dryness it causes and sit up, listening longer trying to decide if you should see if she needs anything.
Only when she starts desperately gasping for air between coughs do you make your decision and get out of bed.
Sliding into slippers, you cross the room and open the door, cringing at how loud it was. As you walk the short distance to Bronas room, you look down at the pub, seeing and hearing men taking shots and slamming the glass back down onto the bar-top, playing games, and sliding tips to the poor woman serving them.
When you reach Brona’s door, you lift your hand to knock, ignoring the way cool, biting air drafted across your ankles. The coughing muffles almost immedietly, the sound of bare feet on wood following a moment later. You press your lips together briefly, feeling your heart squeeze itself in anticipation.
The hinges squeak slightly as the door is pulled open. Your eyebrows knitting together when you see Brona, who’s clearly fighting back the urge to cough. A hankerchief is clutched in her hand, and her lips lack their usual color.
“Are you alright..?” You ask, hands clasping eachother tightly while you watch Brona jerk and tense with the effort to hold back her cough.
She opens her mouth to speak, nodding her head along, but before she can a cough forces itself out of her, the strength of it causing her to double over as it pushes all the air out of her lungs. Hastily she covers her mouth with the hankerchief and straightens herself. wiping the fabric across her lips before bracing her hand on the doorframe.
“Fine,” She gasps, pressing her lips together tightly as she swallows.
You look at her skeptically, nodding your head as she uses her shoulder to wipe the side of her face. “D-do you need anything?” You ask after a moment of awkward silence, shifting your weight nervously.
Brona shakes her head quickly, squeezing her eyes shut as she fights off another cough, hand squeezing the frame of the door in anticipation.
Worry and sympathy weave their way through your body, seeing the woman who was usually so put together and lively look so colorless and lethargic.
“I’ll get you something” You say, taking a hesitant step back before turning away the second you saw Bronas eyes lock on you. Not wanting her to answer.
Your cheeks burn red as you walk down the stairs in your slippers, even though nobody was going to notice nor remember.
Hastily, you walk past the bar and down a short hallway, turning into a dark and cluttered room filled with boxes and boxes of alcohol and fancy glasses.
You search around, looking for the kettles and mugs you knew were kept in there. When you find them, you rush quickly back upstairs, stopping briefly in your room to grab herbs and a teabag. When you step back out, you find Bronas door half open, the sound of strained coughs pouring out faintly.
Slowly, you open it, watching as light pours into the darkened room. When you step inside, Brona is at the table, doubled over on a chair. One hand holds her stomach, clutching at the threadbare fabric covering it. The other gripping the edge of the table.
Her coughs are short and strained, her body not pausing long enough to let her breathe.
You close the door behind you, turning the lights on and walking over to the kitchenette, trying to get done filling the kettle with water and getting it boiling quick so you can go over to Brona.
Once you have the kettle set to boil, you make your way across the room silently, watching as the red haired woman rubs her forehead and catches her breath.
As you got closer, standing behind her now, you could hear the high pitched hollowness that emitted with every exhale.
you lift your hand up to her back, hesitating before bracing your other on her shoulder and slowly pressing your palm flat and rubbing firm circles.
Brona turns her head to the side, looking at you over her shoulder, “What are you doing?” She asks defensively, her voice gravelly.
You dont respond, instead reaching infront of her and tapping lightly under her collarbone. “Pat your chest,”
The chair Brona sits on protests as her weight shifts, her hand coming up to her chest, hovering above it for a moment before she starts patting.
“Good,” You murmur giving her shoulder a squeeze before stepping back. “Keep doing that.” You add, walking away from her to the kettle. As you pour warm water into the mug, Brona clears her throat, the sound bubbly and rattling.
When You glance behind you, you catch a glimpse of the older woman holding her hankerchief to her mouth again as she spit up phlegm.
Dropping the teabag into the water, you dunked it repeatedly before sprinkling in a series of herbs and slowly making your way back to Brona, walking up beside her and holding the mug out for her.
She looks up at you skeptically, eyebrows creased together as she takes the cup in both hands. “What is it?” She asks, resting it in her lap.
“Green tea,” you say as you pull out a second chair and sit down across from her “…and herbs that should…help”
She looks down at the cup, dipping her index finger into the liquid before bringing it to her lips and taking a sip, her nose crinkling at the taste of it.
“You dont like it” You point out, a small smile spreading across your face.
“I hate it” She replies, setting the mug down on the table beside her before looking down at her lap.
You hum in response, turning to look towards the closed door as someone walked by, a sailor probably spending the night.
“Do I wake you?” Brona asks suddenly, tilting her head slightly.
You stare back at her, taking in the dark circles under her eyes. Would it hurt her feelings if you said yes? Were you even close enough to be honest?
Instead of speaking you nod your head, pressing your lips together nervously.
Brona nods back, bringing her lip between her teeth and looking around the room nervously.
Noticing her behavior, you change the topic, crossing your legs before speaking. “I didnt see you today…”
Brona inhales sharply, the wheezing having went away almost entirely. She waves her hand, kissing her teeth before speaking.
“Aye,“ A pause as she turns, resting her elbows on the table. “Its this cough, got real bad this morning,” She says, pointing to her bed which had a noticeable red stain on the pillow.
“ ‘S been like that all day…” resigned she drops her head, letting it rest on her hands. “Makin’ me fight myself for air, stupid thing”
You nod in response, reaching out and pushing the mug towards her, watching her fingers wrap around it and lift it to her lips.
While she drinks, you let your eyes wander around the room. Her bed consists of a faded pink blanket and a pillow that looks so dirty its more brown then anything. Across the small room is a fireplace, containing a small flickering flame that wouldnt even warm a hand.
“Your fire is going out,” you say, watching the flame dance across its last piece of fuel.
Your eyes flicker over to Brona whos staring at the small fire with her finger between her teeth. Her eyebrows knit together tightly in an expression you couldnt read.
Bronas eyebrows raise quickly, her hand dropping into her lap, looking down for a moment before snapping her head up to look back at the fire with glinting eyes.
“Its just that was my last piece of coal,” She says lowly, her accent sounding thicker then it had just a moment ago. “Guess ill be quite cold tonight…”
“I-“ You open your mouth to speak, already in the motion of standing up before Brona interrupts you.
“Stop,” She says firmly, her eyes glaring up at you. “I dont need you doin’ anything more, you’ve already given me more than I can return”
You got coal and firewood for free from your boss, he keeps it all stored behind the hearth in the pub, always telling you to take what you need. You never do though in fear of being the reason it would run out. But it wouldnt be a problem if she…took some and gave it to one of the guests right?
Standing awkwardly now, you look down at the woman, hand fidgeting with the uneven surface of the table.
“I was going to say I have more than enough coal for me…and theres actual wood downstairs im allowed to have—“ You say meekly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment.
“You should go now,” Brona replies after a moment, motioning to the door “You came because of the cough, im not coughing now so…please.”
You stick your tongue out to wet your bottom lip, looking to the side. Angry at yourself for making her feel the way she did, angry for doing to much. Embarrassed and sad from the rejection.
Finally, you respond. Nodding your head and stepping away from the table. “Okay,” You murmur “I’m sorry”
You turn around swiftly, making your way towards the door. As you turn the doorknob you cast your gaze towards Brona. Smiling weakly at her before stepping out.
The rest of the night you’re tossing and turning in your bed, trying to make yourself fall asleep, trying to make your brain shut down.
Eventually you did end up falling asleep, waking up to the sun shining on your face. Opening your eyes you squint at the brightness, using your hand to block the bright light as you sat up.
The blanket pooled around your hips, letting cold air surround your upper body. Goosebumps bloomed all across your body as you slipped out of the bed, walking across the small room to get ready for your shift.
Walking down the stairs, your hands bunched in the skirt of your dress, you see your boss standing behind the bar a shiny glass in his hand.
He greets you, setting the cup down onto the bar top. It echoed out into the room, causing some of the passed out men to stir. You walk onto the platform that housed the series of tables and men, smirking at your boss as you come up behind one of them, grabbing the glass out of his hand and flicking the back of his head.
His snoring stops abruptly as he shoots upright. Looking around confused for a moment before he stood up and went over to the bar, his heavy boots hitting the floor percussively.
You continue walking, flicking mens heads and taking their glasses. When theyre all awake, and most preparing to leave, you make your way across the pub, setting the glasses down in the sink that was filled with warm water.
As you clean the glasses, you cant help but replay the night. infact it wouldnt leave your head no matter what. Rubbing her back, feeling the warmth of her body beneath your skin, making tea for her and encouraging her to drink it, how she wasnt keen on letting you care, but still allowing it anyways.
A smile spreads across your face, uncontrollable and big while something fluttered in your stomach. You pushed aside the negative aspects of the night, only focusing on the parts that made butterflies bite the inside of your stomach.
Then, the sound of your bosses voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “What are you smiling at?” He says, a big smirk plastered on his face.
Caught of guard, a glass slips out of your hand, splashing into the water and clanging against the bottom of the sink. You pick it up quickly, holding it tightly in your hand as you looked over to him.
“Oh nothing just… Just thinking”
“Uhuh” He says, looking at her warily.
After that, the open room falls into a familiar silence. Both you and your boss working silently side by side, knowing exactly how to get things done without needing to speak.
Twenty minutes later, when you’re in the middle of wiping down the bar top and stools, an intrusive squeal rings out across the room, shattering the peaceful silence of the room.
You find your head snapping towards the sound before you even register what direction it came from, smiling when you see red curls bouncing down the stairs.
Brona smiles when she sees you her eyes following you as you walk behind the bar, grabbing a bowl and cloth off the top and setting them beside the sink.
Bracing your hands on the counter, you lift yourself up, leaning over until you were on your tippy toes, waiting almost eagerly for her to sit down.
“Your usual?” You ask when shes sat, already grabbing the open bottle and a shot glass.
She hums in response, occupied with slipping mesh gloves onto her hands.
As you pour the dark yellow liquid into the glass, you catch a glimpse of your boss watching you, an almost knowing half smile on his face as he serves a sad looking man.
You cast him a stern look before turning back to Brona, smiling softly as you place the glass down infront of her.
She mouths a thank you, pinching it between three fingers and drinking it. You watch as she throws her head back, watch her hair shift behind her shoulders and catch the morning light…
Faintly, you hear your boss call your name. You look over at him. “Collect her rent” He mouths, pointing towards Brona.
You nod and roll your eyes at him as you look back to Brona. Who was already looking at you.
Both of you stare intently at eachother, waiting for the other to speak. Usually conversation came so easily. One of you always had something to talk about, always knew what to say and how to say it.
You feel your ears begin to heat up, your eyes feeling as if they were being pulled back in your head. Snapping your eyes away, you clear your throat, arranging the bottles lined up infront of you despite them being perfectly fine.
“What are you doing today?” You ask, briefly looking up at her. Cringing at how silly the question was.
Brona sighs, resting her head on her hand and tapping the empty shot glass on the bar top. She didnt respond for a moment, instead watching you pretend to be doing something.
The silence, short as it was felt like it stretched on for much longer, and just as you were starting to think she wasnt going to answer, just as thoughts about how she must think you’re being nosy and bothersome began to creep in…she spoke.
“ ‘Ve got to work but…” She says, rubbing her hands together, pursing her lips briefly before her gaze locked back onto you. “Maybe when I come back We can have a drink together?”
Your mouth falls open briefly, your brain short circuiting. “I- uh..” you stutter, staring wide eyed at her. You felt your cheeks heating up and you just knew how red your face was.
“Y-yeah…that’d be nice…” You finally say, smiling nervously and looking down.
Theres no response from Brona right away, but you can feel her eyes on you. She clears her throat before hopping off the barstool. “Its the least I can do,” She says, smoothing her hands over the skirt of her dress “For…last night”
“Oh,” you respond, tilting your head up and smiling. “You dont have to repay me, Brona” You add, watching her as she takes a step back, her eyes trained on yours.
“I want to.” She mutters, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.
You nod again, silently agreeing with her as she takes another step back, her eyes not leaving yours. “I’ve got to go” She says, picking at her nails “Goodbye”
Leaning back on the counter, you watch her leave, chewing on your lip intently.
“Have you got her rent?” Your boss asks from across the bar.
You look over to him, pursing your lips and shaking your head. You watch him as he pours whiskey into a glass, handing it to the same sad man before he walked towards you.
“Get it,” He says before walking out of the bar and down the long hallway across from it.
You sigh, staring out the window. There wasnt much you could do all day, all the cleaning was already done, there was one lonely man sitting at the bar and ships dont usually start arriving until the early afternoon.
The next few hours, you spend pacing around the empty pub, keeping the fire going and pretending to be doing something important.
When you see ships coming in, and the sound of mens heavy boots outside the door, you body buzzes with the anticipation of finally having something to do.
The rest of the afternoon theres people coming and going steadily, some coming in to get drunk, most coming in for a quick drink after a long travel, people who work on the docks coming in to get out of the cold.
By evening, most of the tables are surrounded with people, their tops covered in shot glasses, cups and cards. You move from one side of the bar to the other, filling up glasses, taking dirty ones, all while keeping it clean.
Your shift ends just as Brona comes through the pub doors, you’re in the middle of washing dishes and listening to a drunk man tell you about the places hes travelled to, looking up at him to smile nod, maybe laugh. You glance up at Brona as she walks by, staring as she walks up the stairs before turning your attention back to the man, now focused not on what he was saying but instead when it was going to end.
He leaves not long after, someone had yelled at him to go and play a game, he stumbled across the room, leaving you to your last task of the night.
Five minutes later, Brona comes back down, sitting on the barstool across from you. You look up at her, smiling and mouthing a ‘Hi’
She smiles back, looking around the busy room almost nervously.
You notice. The way her eyebrows raise slightly, how her lips are pursed just barely.
“Ill be done in a moment, then we can…go?” You say, pulling a glass out of the soapy water and placing it down on a cloth next to you.
Brona doesnt respond, just nods and slides off the barstool, walking to up the stairs to her room without a word.
You furrow your eyebrows, confused by the way she was acting. Perhaps she was nervous. Afterall up until last night you both had never spoken to eachother unless you were behind the bar and she was buying drinks.
As you pull the drain to the sink, and grab a cloth to dry your hands, you hear a door screech from upstairs, recognizing it as Bronas immedietly. You look towards it, seeing her closing it softly, back turned to the pub while she held a handkerchief to her mouth. Faintly you could hear the sound of her coughing, though didnt pay much attention to it, finding yourself suddenly anxious about going out.
You walk around the bar, watching Brona ascend the stairs and walk towards the door, looking behind her and motioning to you to follow. You rush to catch up, not wanting to keep her waiting.
As you stepped outside you were hit with cold wind biting your cheeks. Neither of you spoke while you walked away from the pub, not until you were out of sight of the docks did one of you speak.
“I’m sorry about last night,” Brona says, fidgeting with the cuff of her sleeve. “and any other night i’ve kept you up”
“Its alright” You respond softly, looking to her with a half smile while holding your hand up to a carriage approaching.
Both of you get into the carriage, sitting side by side, the sides of your legs touching, making you feel warm despite the cold.
The ride is spent in silence, neither of you making an effort to say anything. When you reach your destination — a pub across london — Brona gets out first, waiting for you to get out and walk beside her.
As you approach the building, you can hear music playing and people laughing and chatting loudly. Opening the door made it all more clear. Warmth surrounded you, burning your face and thawing your limbs as you walked close behind Brona towards the bar.
She leans herself over the counter, waving one of the bartenders over. “shot of whiskey,” She says to him, looking to you expectantly. “Ill have the same as you” you say quietly.
She turns back to the bartender quickly, holding up two fingers and smiling. “Make that two”
The sound of the man setting the small glasses down on the bar top is barely audible through all the noise in the room. Brona puts the glass to her lips, raising her eyebrows at you before throwing her head back.
You do the same though less gracefully, and with alot less confidence. Scrunching your face as you set the glass back down you speak, “How do you drink that every day”
“Makes me feel warmer when im outside” She says, circling her finger around the rim of the empty shot.
“You work outside?” You ask, eyes flickering to her hand briefly.
Brona looks at you with an expression that tells you you crossed a line. You clear your throat nervously, muttering an apology and averting your eyes.
Silence washes over both of you. Bronas eyes stay locked on you as you try to look anywhere but her, though allowing yourself to cast short glances.
Brona calls the bartender back over, getting him to fill hers and your glass again, repeating the same motion of bringing it to her lips and throwing her head back.
You dont touch the glass again, leaving it where it was, instead watching Brona, only looking away when her head comes down.
“Its noisy in here,” You say, smoothing the skirt of your dress over your knees, looking to the open room at all the people.
“Isnt that better?” Brona asks, leaning back just slightly.
You look back at her, raising your eyebrows. “Do you think its better?”
She looks down, taking a deep breath before looking back up. “Yes”
Brona looks around the room, to the men banging on a table and cheering, the numerous conversations spread out across the room, then, she turned back to you. “means ya dont have to think,” She says, smirking softly
“and you like that?” You reply, furrowing your eyebrows briefly and bringing your elbow to rest on the bar top.
Brona takes another shot before responding. “I do”
You nod, looking down to her lap, taking in the black and white of her skirt.
“I take it you dont like the noise?” She says, tilting her head down to try and meet your eyes with hers, “Or the alcohol” She smiles, stretching her arm out to grab your still full shot glass, throwing her head back for the fourth time before slipping off the barstool.
“Come, We’ll go somewhere else” She says, motioning with her head towards the door.
You follow her out, taking a deep breath and holding it before leaving the warmth of the room and stepping outside.
Brona leads you across the street, pointing to a display with a fancy dress in it. “Look at that thing” She says walking right up to the window, her eyes gleaming in the overhead light as she looks up at the dress. Then, her eyes wander down. “forty five pounds, look” She adds, tapping her finger on the glass.
“Thats…expensive” You reply, stepping closer, accidentally brushing your arm against hers.
She looks at you for a moment, a lingering smile on her face before she starts walking again. “Its ridiculous how much they charge for those things, nobody’s makin that much money”
You walk beside her, matching her pace as you listen, feeling your heart jump at the way her elbow touches yours briefly.
“And its only fabric” You add in, watching her face for a reaction, a small smile on your face as you wait.
“L—“ Brona starts, her hand shooting up to her chest as a short cough escapes her. “I—“ She tries again after a moment, though is interrupted again by another cough, and another.
She brings her handkerchief to her mouth, stopping in her tracks and turning away from you as she coughs harshly into the white fabric.
You watch her for a moment, trying to weigh the situation and figure out if she would be fine in a moment or if she was having another fit.
Her cough sounds worse than it did last night, perhaps its because this time theyre outside. But it sounds more wet, more wheezy.
After twenty seconds Brona stops coughing, spitting into the white cloth before turning around. “We should catch a carriage, find somewhere to go…This—“ Another interruption as a cough forcefully pushes itself out of her.
“Maybe we should go back to ‘Mariners inn…This cold isnt doing you any good and theres not much places we can go after dark”
“No-“ Brona tries to protest, though you swiftly cut her off, holding your hand up for a passing carriage.
“Yes, Brona…Its making you worse” You say, climbing into the carriage and holding your hand out for the woman.
Brona glares up at you, though it doesnt look angry. Not in the dark atleast. Still, she takes your hand, stepping into the carriage herself and sitting down.
This carriage is different then the last, there was enough room for you to sit face to face across from eachother.
You watch Brona, how the rims of her eyes are gleaming more then the rest. How she chews on the inside of her cheek and stares at the door.
“Are you alright?” You ask quietly, tapping her ankle with your shoe, watching as her eyes snap towards yours before darting away.
“Im alright” Brona echoes, eyebrows twitching slightly.
Not wanting to push her, you dont say anything else, instead fidgeting with your dress while you waited for Brona to talk, or to arrive back at the Mariners inn.
The rest of the carriage ride is silent, aside from Brona occassionally coughing. When you arrive at the docks, Brona gets out first, waiting for you to get out as well before walking.
You walk beside her, hands clasped together as you tried to ignore the wind nipping at exposed skin. As you approach the Inn, you turn your head to Brona, quickly becoming mesmerized by how her hair looked blowing in the wind.
“I had fun tonight” You say, opening the door to the raggedy building.
“Did you?” Brona replies distantly, stepping in after you.
You walked ahead of her, walking up the stairs quickly and going to her room, hand on the doorknob while you watched her come up the stairs, her dress bunched up in her hands so she wouldnt fall.
When shes close enough, you open the door slowly, not acknowledging how cold it was. “Miss Brona,” You say, bowing your head and crossing one arm over your stomach.
“Oh, get in the room” She says teasingly, grabbing your hand off the doorknob and pulling you inside.
She doesnt close the door behind her, instead she just walks across the room, her footsteps loud on the hollow floorboards. She comes back with the kettle you’d left there last night, setting it down on an accent table next to the door.
“You left this, Thought you’d want it back” She says, taking a step back.
You close the door, leaving it open an inch. “Its one from downstairs, I doubt anyone noticed it was even there”
Brona nods in response, her eyes trained onto your face.
You look back at her, waiting to see if she would actually say anything, though it never came, leaving you both staring at eachother. You wondered what she was thinking about, if she was also waiting for you to speak, or if she was thinking something entirely different.
You break the eye contact, looking towards the empty fireplace and then back to her.
“You still have no fire” You murmur, watching her eyebrows furrow at your words.
She sighs, seemingly annoyed, though her body said different. Her fingers picked at her thumbs, gripped onto her skirt.
“I could get you stuff for it, Brona.”
It was different then last night, she didnt cut you off and kick you out, instead she looked down, almost ashamed, though a gentle smile counteracted everything about what you thought she was feeling.
“I wont owe you for something so small” She says, shaking her head, her arms crossing over her chest.
“You wouldnt owe me anything.”
You watch her as she walks away, going to the window despite it being nothing more then a mirror.
Your eyes travel to her bed, looking at the thin quilt and threadbare sheet. You wanted to help her. Wanted her to be comfortable.
Taking a step forward, keeping your eyes locked on the back of Bronas head, opening your mouth to speak. Though you were cut off before you could even start, Bronas voice cutting through the silence of the room.
“If you’re going to insist you give me something, or let me borrow another, I dont want to hear it.”
You stay still for a moment, pursing your lips. One thing you learned about Brona in the short time you’ve known her is that she can be stubborn. Very stubborn. So maybe…
“Ill be right back” You say, taking a step back before turning fully, rushing down the stairs into the pub, going by the bar into the hallway and turning into a room. Wood and coal and matches.
You grabbed as much as you could hold, kicking the door open and walking back down the hall, smiling at your boss as you walked by the bar.
When you reached Bronas door, you could see her. Sitting on the edge of the bed wiping her handkerchief over her mouth. Using your leg to open the door, you watch Bronas head snap ip to you.
You walk inside, towards the fireplace, setting the wood and coal down infront of it.
“What are you doing, I told you not to!” Brona says, closing the front door and storming over.
Strategically you place the wood and coal in the fire box before picking up the box of matches, fumbling with it trying to get it to open.
Brona kneels down beside you, her knees knocking onto the wooden floor. “Unbelievable” she mumbles, grabbing the box out of your hand, opening it and handing it back to you.
You dont respond, striking the match against the box until it lights and then throwing it into the pile of wood and coal.
Just as you look over to Brona, she starts coughing. Her handerkief doesnt cover her mouth in time and blood splatters onto the wood infront of her.
“Jesus christ” you say, turning yourself towards her, watching as she doubles over coughing, choking on whatever she was coughing up when she tries to breathe.
You can see her start to panic when it happens, her eyes widening as each inhale wheezes and does almost nothing to bring new air into her lungs. Her free hand starts to flail, searching for something.
You reach up quickly, grabbing her hand, shocked by how tightly she hangs on. What were you even supposed to do in this situation? She was scared, unable to breathe while also having any air she did get pushed out of her.
Hesitently, you shift closer so your knee was touching her thigh and placed your hand on her back, rubbing side to side.
You kept her hand steady, keeping it from flailing around in your grip. “Its okay” You say quietly, unsure of what else to do or say.
A minute later Bronas done coughing, and is breathing normally again, though her hand stays clutched in yours as she catches her breath.
“Do-“ You start, though Brona cuts you off.
“Please dont” She says, squeezing your hand lightly. She looks at the fire infront of her, watching the flame swallow its fuel.
Both of you sit in silence after that, both of you sit and watch the fire, feel it burning your face. Brona starts shivering slightly as the room gets warmer, as her the hand clutched in yours goes from cold to warm.
The only sound in the room is Bronas heavy breathing, the fire crackling and the distant sound of a busy pub. The only thing in your mind is the light, warm and peaceful feeling in your chest, the feeling of wood beneath your knees, and how perfect this moment was.
Then, faintly, you hear and feel Brona shifting, you start to turn your head towards her, but are met with her hair covering the bottom half of your face, and the feeling of her head resting on your shoulder.
A tightness wraps around your heart, and it feels like ants and butterflies are having a war in your stomach. You go still, processing what was happening.
Turning your head back to the fire, you cast your eyes down, seeing bronas eyelashes disappearing and reapearring as she blinks. Then, you heard something. Gentle and so so quiet. It almost wasnt there, so quiet that if you werent looking at Brona, you wouldnt have heard it.
