@vaptrgrn.wp: (JOHNNY POV) I wasn’t supposed to be paying attention. I came over to see Gibsie. We’d planned on spending the afternoon outside, arguing over Rugby and climbing the old oak tree in his back garden until one of our mums shouted us in for dinner. Then the front door opened. I looked up. And forgot what I was doing. A little girl skipped into the hallway wearing a pale pink ballet dress with a fluffy tutu that bounced around her knees. Her white-blonde hair was twisted into a neat bun, though little wisps had escaped around her face from dancing. She looked like she’d stepped straight out of one of Mam’s storybooks. She giggled as she spun across the hallway, ballet slippers swinging from her fingertips. “Easy there,” Mrs. Gibson or should I say Mrs. Allen laughed. “No pirouettes in the house.” “But I finally got it!” the little girl beamed, unable to stop smiling. “Miss Fiona said I did the best one!” Her eyes… I’d never seen eyes that colour before. They were the brightest green I’d ever seen. Not like grass. Brighter. Like emeralds. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” I whispered. Gibsie didn’t even look at her. “She’s not my sister.” His voice was sharp enough to make me blink. “She’s my stepsister.” He said the word like it tasted bad. “Oh.” I looked back at her. She still hadn’t noticed either of us. She was too busy talking excitedly to Mrs. Allen about ballet and ribbons and something called first position. She smiled at everyone. Even Gibsie. He didn’t smile back. Instead, he grabbed the Rugby ball from beside the door. “Come on,” he muttered. “Let’s go outside.” I frowned. “Weren’t you gonna say hello?” “No.” “Why?” He shrugged one shoulder. “Don’t want to.” I looked between them again. She was all soft smiles and pink ribbons. He acted like she wasn’t even there. It didn’t make sense. As she laughed, a loose strand of her white-blonde hair slipped free from her bun. For some reason, she reminded me of the little white doves that always landed outside my nan’s kitchen window. Gentle. Quiet. Like if you reached out too quickly, she’d fly away. Without thinking, I smiled. “Dove.” “What?” I pointed towards her “She looks like a dove.” “She’s just Clara,” he said with a shrug. “Mam thinks the sun shines out of her arse.” I looked back at Clara. She was still talking away, her little hands moving animatedly as she told Mrs. Allen about ballet class. Then she laughed. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that demanded everyone’s attention. It was soft. Light. The sort of laugh that made everyone around her smile without even realizing it. Mrs. Allen reached over to smooth a loose strand of hair behind Clara’s ear, and Clara leaned into the touch with the easiest grin I’d ever seen. I couldn’t stop staring. She looked… Happy. The kind of happy that made the whole room feel brighter. Gibsie nudged my shoulder. “Are ye coming or what?” “Yeah,” I mumbled, dragging my eyes away. As we walked out the back door, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. Almost as if she could feel me looking, Clara turned. Our eyes met. Those bright green eyes blinked at me for a second before a shy smile spread across her face. Then she gave me a tiny wave. Without thinking, I waved back. “Dove,” I whispered to myself. The name just fit. #claraallen #fanficedit #foryoupage #boysoftommen #boysoftommenfanfic

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Tuesday 07 July 2026 14:50:04 GMT