nobody ever tells u how hard it is being a uni student with crippling bpd :(
sorry for the wait kiddos, im trying my best!
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Being enclosed in a small space with Michael Gray proved to be a difficult task.
Both Florence and Bonnie had agreed to give Michael the bed first, only he had flat-out refused, choosing to take the plastic chair at the table with a defiant look. Florence had rolled her eyes, then shrugged, leading Bonnie to the bed and pushing him on despite his reluctance.
"He's been shot," Bonnie whispered as Florence curled up with her head in his lap, opening her book to the page she'd previously been reading. "Are you sure we shouldn't give him the bed?"
Florence didn't look up from the page as Bonnie's hand made its way to her hair, her body practically thrumming with contentment. "Since he wants to be a brat," she said loudly, causing Michael to narrow his eyes at her. "He gets his bed privileges revoked."
"I'm perfectly comfortable here." Florence pretended that she couldn't hear him. "God, you're insufferable."
She let out a small laugh, crossing her ankles. "Okay, Michael."
Eventually, Michael transferred himself to the cushions on the ground, settling down with a deep groan. Florence reached her hand into Bonnie's pocket and pulled out his painkillers.
"Take your medicine," she ordered, trying to channel as much of Polly as she could. Assuming she did good, or he was in extreme pain, as Michael drank from the vial without a complaint, handing it back without comment. "Good, now get over here. If you're going to pass out, it better be on the bed."
Finally, without complaint, Michael transferred him self to the bed as Bonnie and Florence eased off, his face twisted with pain as he eased back against the pillows. Florence sighed, seating herself on the edge of the bed, her hand on Michael's face.
"The medicine will kick in soon," she promised, Michael's hand finding hers and gripping tight. "Go to sleep, Michael. I'll wake you up when it's morning."
Michael could only nod and he drifted off, his grip on her hand going slack. Florence stayed, listening to her favourite cousin breathe five steady breaths before easing off the bed and joining Bonnie on the cushions on the ground.
"He's nice," Bonnie decided as Florence crawled over and settled in his lap, head on his shoulder. "Well, moderately nice, I'd say."
"He's just protective," Florence said, settling comfortably as Bonnie leaned back, reaching behind him for a folded quilt. He draped it over them, arms winding around Florence and holding her snugly against him. "I don't have any older siblings, so I think Michael takes the role upon himself."
"Good on him," Bonnie said quietly, his breath disturbing the strands of hair at the top of her head. "Someone like you probably needs the extra protection."
"Shut up," she mumbled, her cheek pressed to his chest, fingers rubbing into his side. "I'm surprised you agreed to come along with your father, considering the fight is so soon."
Bonnie was quiet for a moment, his hands caressing Florence as he lulled her closer to sleep, despite the sun just beginning to set. "I've been spending a lot of time training," he said finally, lips at her ear. "I almost forgot how nice it is to have you in my arms like this, dove."
"Mmm," Florence practically purred, eyes fluttering shut. "I could never forget. You're in my dreams, Bon."
It was then they settled into a communal quiet, Florence's breathing evening out as she fell asleep in Bonnie's arms. He couldn't quite reach her peace yet, his mind travelling to the future. His name on championship posters, a shiny golden ring on her finger. A caravan of their own. It was all he wanted, and it was all so close.
With dreams of his future family, Bonnie drifted off into a sweet sleep.
"Dove."
Florence awoke with a start, her ears so accustomed to the sweet name Bonnie dubbed her with. She couldn't remember the last time she'd heard him say Florence, but she wasn't complaining.
Blinking her bleary eyes open, Florence's hands immediately reached for Bonnie in the dim lighting, his warm hands capturing her own. She let him pull her up into a sitting position, hands releasing hers so that he could pat down her hair, which was undoubtedly wild. Once her eyes focused on Bonnie's breathtaking face, she gave him a sleepy smile, leaning into him.
"What time is it?" She asked, chin on his shoulder as she shut her eyes again. "The sky is pitch black, Bon."
"About midnight," he replied, hands closing around her upper arms and gently pulling her upright again, hands coming up to cup her face. "We've just reached the Boswell's camp."
"Oh." Florence's lips pouted, and Bonnie brought her in close for a small, sweet kiss. "Do I smell a fire burning, or am I just delirious with sleep?"
Bonnie laughed at that a bit, pushing himself up onto his knees and helping Florence up. "Oh, it's a fire burning, alright," he mused, grabbing Florence's boots for her and helping her into them, grabbing the blanket that was previously thrown over them. "The Boswell's put on one hell of a welcoming party, dove. We won't want to miss it."
Florence took his hand, intertwining their fingers. "Are we going to wake up Michael?"
Bonnie pursed his lips to hide a little smile, hand squeezing hers. "I already tried," he said, reaching for the handle of the caravan door. "He told me to fuck off, then he fell back asleep."
Rolling her eyes, Florence made her way down the steps, hand still clutched in Bonnie's. She could see the light from the fire, and hear the music being played on homemade instruments, and a deep sense of happiness struck her. These were the things she missed out on, growing up. The culture, the tradition. She supposed it wasn't too late for her to experience it now.
"By the way," Bonnie said, stopping them in their tracks. "I do think it's only fair that I warn you."
Florence looked up at him with confusion clear in her eyes, her hand squeezing a bit anxiously around his own. "Warn me about what, Bonnie?"
"Bonnie!"
Quicker than a fox, a child that matched Florence in height came sprinting over, launching herself at Bonnie in a way that reminded Florence of the beautiful Rosalind. As Bonnie dropped Florence's hand to wrap his arms around the girl, she came to the conclusion that this had to be Leta, Bonnie's second sister.
Over Leta's shoulder, Bonnie met Florence's eye and mouthed a little apology before releasing his sister and ruffling her long, black hair. She looked so much like her younger sister in the firelight, the only difference being the height and build. Were all the Gold children blessed with devilishly good looks?
Little Leta Gold lifted her head and met Florence's eye, making a face as she clung to Bonnie's side. She had to admit, the way the child was looking at her crumbled her resolve a small bit, but Florence spared her a small smile nonetheless.
"Leta, this is Florence," Bonnie said calmly, his hand rubbing his sister's shoulder soothingly as she judged Florence silently. "She's really special to me, and I wanted you to meet her."
Leta looked up at her brother, giving him a bored look. "She won't last a year in this family."
And with that, the girl broke free from her brother and stalked back to the campfire. Florence, dumbfounded, looked back at Bonnie.
He pursed his lips. "She's pretty...apprehensive, I'd say." Florence frowned as he took her hand, bringing it up to his lips and kissing her knuckles. "Don't worry about her, please. She'll get over it."
Florence couldn't take his words to heart, sighing as he pulled her in close and ducked down to press a sweet kiss to her neck, the two of them shielded by the night's dark cover. He pulled back with a little smile.
"Two Gold sisters down, one to go," Bonnie hummed, lacing his fingers with Florence's. "Let's hope Esmeralda is sober enough to say hello."
