𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚 ❀ ᴛᴇᴡᴋᴇꜱʙᴜʀʏ₁

❀𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫❀

"He's not being very quiet, now, is he?" my sister mutters.  Oh. My. God.

"Yes, Enola, the boy being hung out the door of a moving fucking train by a fucking murderer is being considerably fucking noisy!" I have to exclaim this.  Ignore the large amount of fucks and such, its something I say when I'm nervous.  And right now, since I'm trying to save a boy who is being dangled right out of said moving train, I am quite tense.  Well, no time like the present.

The boy - Tewkesbury - continues screaming as I whack the attacker straight in the face with a cane that was very conveniently placed on one of the seats.  The viscount hangs onto the door as it swings out.  I can hear him scream once more as I pull the door in, my sister hanging onto me so I don't fall out.  I reach for the evidently terrified boy as a tunnel approaches and miraculously pull him inside seconds before the train enters the underpass.

I keep a hold on Viscount Alexander Tewkesbury, Marquess of Basilwether as we dash out of the carriage and, following Enola, head for the front of the train.  "Who was that?! He was trying to kill me!" Tewkesbury exclaims, still being obnoxiously loud.  "I'm not ready to die on a train!"

"Wouldn't say that I'm ready to die at all, to be fair," I reply, definitely quieter than he was.  The boy looks at me until my sister adds onto my statement, "And we weren't going to die, until we met you!"

I can't help but feel bad for the boy.  My sister is being endlessly aggressive to him and, well, he was just nearly thrown out of a train in fairness.  Like seriously Enola, give the boy a break.  I still have a grip on his hand, so I squeeze it once, softly, to say something I cannot speak.  Not right now.

Tewkesbury glances at me quickly, and I know he understands what I am trying to say to him.  While this happens, Enola opens the door at the front of the train.  We are right behind the coal car, and there is no other way, which is exactly what my sister mentions to our newfound companion moments later.  I push my back against the opposite car as I move across.

My sister is one step ahead of me, and peers around the corner.  I see a hill before a bridge, and it occurs to me we have to get off before we reach the overpass.  Enola looks at me as she reaches this same conclusion, and our eyes say everything we don't have to.  Since that's settled, I turn my eyes to the boy pressed against the car next to me, white as a sheet.

"Do you trust me?" I whisper to him, not loud enough for my twin to hear.  Tewkesbury looks at me for a moment, hesitating, before whispering a soft "no" back.  Can't blame him, truly.

"Well, come on then," I mutter, as I grab his hand again.  I nod to Enola, and she counts

Three.  I keep a hold on Tewkesbury's hand.  I think he knows what we're about to do, so I'm trying to grasp it tightly. You know, so he doesn't run before we do this.

Two. The man from earlier opens the door and sees our little trio holding on for dear life.  His eyes widen, and Tewkesbury screams again.

One.  He lunges.  We jump.  Somewhere in the commotion I lose my grip on Tewkesbury.  I'm rolling down a hill, and stop narrowly before falling off a rock ledge.

Thats quite convenient.

This boy keeps grunting and wheezing behind my sister and I.  She was right about him being loud earlier, but this is unnecessary.  Enola shoots me a look, before, exasperatedly, turning to the boy.  "You make an awful lot of noise, don't you?" She states, still panting from rolling down the hill.

"Well, it turns out, being thrown off a train hurts considerably more than you might think," the boy mutters with a flick of his hair.  He exhales sharply, and continues, "And I've lost a button.."