sandandsalt
Fandoms
- The Hour (3)
- Downton Abbey (2)
Recent works
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Summary
"There is the thought, though it is a small one, that Downton Abbey was carved from the boughs of winter. " The Crawley women and grief. Post S3 Christmas Special.
- Words:
- 1,938
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 8
- Hits:
- 173
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Summary
When she sees him, there is a spell she says, thrice, like schoolgirls used to when looking into dark mirrors, You’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead.
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Summary
She’s running out of hiding spots, burial grounds. Post 2x06.
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And their clothes are on his floor, scattered like shells, the fallout from simply existing together in a space like this, between frames and flashes and trying to find stories in empty bottles. It’s her doing, the mess. A leviathan of unfastenings, undoings, unpromisings that she leaves in her wake; he will pick up every inch of it, smooth every crease, hang every suit.
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Summary
She knows Her Ladyship’s body the way she knows a dress.