Scrubbing the tile of Thomas' wash room, you pause briefly to wipe the sweat that had accumulated on your brow and upper lip. Off in the distance you could hear Lucille playing away at the piano. That lullaby you now knew by heart.
"Let the wind blow kindly
In the sail of your dreams
And the moon light your journey
And bring you to me"
"We can't live on mountains" a deep voice continues the second verse. Your cheeks burn when you realize Thomas had caught you singing; rather poorly you may add. "We can't live out at sea
Where oh, where oh, my lover
Shall I come to thee?"
"You have a much lovelier voice than me." You chuckle and continue your cleaning. The soft sound of the piano still playing in the background. Thomas, careful to avoid the wet parts of the floor, eases himself on to the rim of the tub. To your shame your face was still incredibly warm at the presence of him.
"You flatter me." His laugh is airy, pleasant and carefree. As of late you had noticed this laugh only happened in private between the two of you. Never in front of his sister. Only with you. "But you don't give yourself much credit. I think you're voice is beautiful. Like a bird."
You dared to look up at him, rag clenched in your hand. Oh, how he managed to make you feel so unbearably warm in such a cold place.
Thomas continued to hum, keeping you company as you cleaned.