Ch 20: Restless

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killian POV:

I had opted to stay at Gizmos for the night. unwilling to allow her the chance to pack up and disappear once more.

...Naturally I became curious as the girl slept in the other room. I explored the place, the shop the home, all the strange things it held.

Every time I walked by the door I knew hid gizmo my eyes would linger.

I was more curious about her than ever, Ginnie Gladstone has just become very real to me and she was not the boring little waif I had expected to be delivering.

This was a woman I have a faint knowledge of she truly is a fascinating one.

My employer had told me not to touch her. stressed it really.

But it was a little late for that.

at the thought of my employer I paused.

...should probably write him to tell him I finally found the girl and ask what was next.

I searched the place for some writing utensils.


I pressed the wax seal onto the letter and set it aside for morning post.

My eyes once again traveled to the closed door of Gizmos room.

Ginnie Gladstone as I was told, should be immobile by now..her body destroyed..but I was never told how or why she was supposed to be this way. 

Gizmo was far from immobile.

I found myself in front of the door.

It would be wrong to intrude upon a sleeping woman...

it was completely improper. 

but..she really hated propriety.

Slowly I turned the handle, the door creaking open.

Gizmos corset was directly by the door, that teasing velvet dress on the floor by the massive bronze bed in the center of the room.

she stirred as I walked into the room slowly but did not awaken.

there were bluebells scattered everywhere. 

wires and bolts were strewn across a vanity, mixed with the little makeup she had. one of many pairs of goggles she owned hug from the chair, i traced the swirling metal patterns before leaving it be.

My attention always shifted to the bed and the woman its silken sheets hid.

Cautiously I approached her, her copper hair was loose and strewn across the pillows in thick waves. She was lying on her stomach, her shoulders bare.

wonderful, not only have I intruded on a sleeping woman but a naked one at that. 

I was a dead man if she woke.

Again she stirred, bringing my attention to her exposed legs.

....I should leave. 

but i didn't.

I drank in the sight of her despite the guilt of knowing it was really very wrong. 

Her skin was pale as ivory. I knew I liked what I saw encased in those damn trousers she insists upon wearing.

Again she stirred causing my to frown. restless night maybe?

I wondered how often she slept without ease and decided to turn away and leave as she tucked her legs back into the sheets.

But as I made my way to leave I noticed something..the sheets had slipped further down her bare back, and beneath her shoulder blades rested the corner of a scar..white and slightly iridescent from age.

once more my curiosity got the best of me as I slowly moved back the sheet, balling the fabric in my fist as I took in the sight.

several large scars covered her back, they were not scars any simple injury could give one..they were like the ones I had seen on the backs of men on slave ships as a child.

Someone whipped this girl, severely enough to scar.

a mere 17 years old and scarred from years of abuse. It made me sick. 

Has anyone shown her kindness?

Orphaned as a child, tossed away into a home for 'wayward' children, beaten, when she finally gets away rejected by the society around her, and now hunted for a past that was not her fault and a gift that was not her choice.

I wanted to trace the scars over her back, to learn the stories of why they existed.

But I didn't. I gently moved the sheet back up her bare back, and decided to pretend I never saw them as I left the room.

Gizmo was more of a mystery to me than ever before.

I wondered how it was she left that place, how she ended up in London, how her sister died, how Gizmo even really existed in this world. How she hasn't broken apart yet.

I wondered deeper into the old house to find a place to have my own restless sleep.

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