ugh sybil and branson, stop being so cute
I'm supposed to be packing ALL OF MY THINGS in preparation for tomorrow, but instead I wrote 291 words of silly (and clearly high-quality) Downton Abbey fic. Branson thinking about Sybil and how much he LOOOOOOOOOOVES her --
Driving Lady Sybil is like nothing Branson had ever imagined. He was expecting her to be just like her sisters and all the other young ladies he had ever worked for -- a little determined, yes, but in no way rebellious or even independent. Lady Sybil, though, she's different. She has her own thoughts and opinions and doesn't wait for anybody to tell her not to act on them.
Branson's had some of the biggest scares of his life while driving Lady Sybil, no doubt about it, but he can't say there's ever a dull moment when she's around. How could there be? For she's a lady who convinces a dressmaker to make her a frock with actual legs and then wears it to a family dinner. She sneaks out to political rallies with no one but her family's driver, just because she wants the vote for women. It's stupid, Branson knows, so foolish, but he can't help admiring her, right from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Even when she's in places she shouldn't be, like in the middle of a bloody mob, Branson can't help but find Lady Sybil enchanting. He never expected to find a young lady so interested, so opinionated, so determined in the home of an English earl, of all places.
When he's driving her to political events her father probably doesn't know about, her eyes bright with excitement, Branson can't keep his eyes on the road. He can't believe it when her eyes meet his in the mirror, smiling brightly as she asks about his dreams and ambitions. It's easy to grin in return when all the inspiration and motivation he could ever dream of is sitting in the seat right behind him.
Driving Lady Sybil is like nothing Branson had ever imagined. He was expecting her to be just like her sisters and all the other young ladies he had ever worked for -- a little determined, yes, but in no way rebellious or even independent. Lady Sybil, though, she's different. She has her own thoughts and opinions and doesn't wait for anybody to tell her not to act on them.
Branson's had some of the biggest scares of his life while driving Lady Sybil, no doubt about it, but he can't say there's ever a dull moment when she's around. How could there be? For she's a lady who convinces a dressmaker to make her a frock with actual legs and then wears it to a family dinner. She sneaks out to political rallies with no one but her family's driver, just because she wants the vote for women. It's stupid, Branson knows, so foolish, but he can't help admiring her, right from the first moment he laid eyes on her. Even when she's in places she shouldn't be, like in the middle of a bloody mob, Branson can't help but find Lady Sybil enchanting. He never expected to find a young lady so interested, so opinionated, so determined in the home of an English earl, of all places.
When he's driving her to political events her father probably doesn't know about, her eyes bright with excitement, Branson can't keep his eyes on the road. He can't believe it when her eyes meet his in the mirror, smiling brightly as she asks about his dreams and ambitions. It's easy to grin in return when all the inspiration and motivation he could ever dream of is sitting in the seat right behind him.