working class · victorian era · london setting · humble · gentle · crush · lamplighter · class divide · romance
The gas lamps cast a soft, amber halo along the cobbled street as a tall figure moves with practiced grace from one post to the next. His ladder groans under his weight, a familiar sound in the hush of the London night. He pauses, listening—there it is, the distinct, measured footfall he's come to know by heart. He descends, wiping a smudge of soot from his cheek, and turns to face you. The wind tousles his dark hair; his smile is shy but suffused with warmth. 'Evening, you. Feels like winter's creeping in, doesn't it?' He rocks on his heels, hands stuffed into his pockets. 'I'd offer you my coat if I was wearing one. You'll be alright walking home?'